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The Edge 193:The Edge 172.qxd
23/10/2012
08:47
Page 1
EDGE
the
ISSUE NO: 193
www.theedgemag.co.uk
CHELMSFORD’S EXCLUSIVE
SALON
01245 251111
3 Can Bridge Way, Chelmsford www.westwoodhair.co.uk
‘THE CHELMSFORD FANZINE’
The Edge Chelmsford CM2 6XD
Telephone 01245 348256
NOVEMBER 2012
Mobile: 077 646 797 44
20/10/2012
09:38
Page 2
Precious
P
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gifts
if ts for
for your
your loved
loved ones
ones this
this Christmas
Christmas
Diamonds
Michael K
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R o s e G o l d Watc
Watc h
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the back of WH Smiths
8 -10 N
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23/10/2012
10:36
Page 3
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your
Book
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Email: [email protected]
TEL: 01245 451651
Is this a
grizzly
bear?
AirShow Disaster
Look at this amazing photograph, readers.
The pilot has clearly lost control of his craft and whilst it narrowly missed the gathered crowd, he
couldn’t stop it from slamming into four buildings.
One can only imagine the abject horror of the surprised occupants.
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The Edge 077 646 797 44
NOODLE BAR
86-87 DUKE STREET
Page 3
22/10/2012
12:40
Page 4
nearest branch to Chelmsford is Basildon.
They do everything from laminates to solid
wood floors, only ‘Edge Towers’ has now been
well and truly covered throughout, so I’ve genuinely no need for it any more. Trouble is, they
wouldn’t refund me my £1,300, so I’ve had to
take it in the form of said credit note.
So, can any of you readers help me out?
If any of you are looking to refloor your
houses/pads, then I will gladly sell this credit
note on to you for £999, which means I’ll be
chucking away £301 of my hard-earned, but
hey, I’ve got to offer an incentive, haven’t I?
Give me a call if you’re interested. please.
TAKE-AWAY MENUS
Does ever a day go by without some f
*** er
shoving a take-away menu through your letterbox?
The Edge Editor’s Column
JUST DO IT!
Spotted some fat, gormless looking bloke, waiting to cross Parkway, wearing one of those Nike
t-shirts that says ‘Just do it!’ on the front.
I couldn’t see the back, but doubtless it said,
‘Just eat another pie.’
6:15am SHADES
There was a lad sat outside Costa Coffee at the
train station at 6:15am the other morning wearing a pair of sunglasses.
Have you seen how dark it is at 6:15am these
days?
Twat.
WOODEN FLOORING
I shouldn’t really be using The Edge for stuff like
this, but f
*** it, it’s my mag, so what the hell.
I have got stuck with a £1,300 credit note from a
flooring company called Floors-2-Go (yeah, I
hate the number in their name as well) whose
INSOMNIACS R US
Quite recently, I had a bout of insomnia and did
I not like that, as former England football manager Graham ‘Turnip Head’ (how cruel) Taylor
might have said.
I think most people, myself included (up until the
other week), just naturally assume that you go
to bed and you go to sleep, because that’s the
deal. But my God, it certainly opened my eyes
to the problem (bum-bum).
It’s like you can’t go to sleep, but you don’t want
to get up....and then all you want to do when it’s
time to get up is go to sleep. Is that a fair
enough analogy, all you folk out there who suffer
from insomnia?
So what do you do?
I honestly wouldn’t want to take any drugs for
the problem, and nor would I want to drink
excessively (during the working week) so that I
knocked myself out, only to wake up with the
ugly mother of all hangovers.
Someone’s suggested eating a couple of kiwi
fruit immediately before you go to bed, whilst
someone else has suggested celery.
But what The Edge wants to know is whether
these are simply old wives tales?
CONVERSATION
Had a bit of a one-way conversation with a
squirrel walking into town from Tesco Parkway’s
car-park. Basically, it was on the wall to my right
with the river beyond and I told it to ‘f *** off’.
HOPE SPRINGS
Not sure how many of The Edge’s middle-aged
readers have been to the cinema recently to see
Hope Springs? Basically though, the therapy
sessions could have been cut a lot shorter if
Tommy Lee Jones had simply had the balls to
say, “Look, I wanted to jump your bones every
goddamn night when you looked like you did in
The Deer Hunter....but not these days, Meryl.”
I AM DEAD...GET ME OUT OF HERE
A bloke in Florida died recently after competing
in a cockroach-eating contest, not to mention
consuming other live bugs and worms.
DRINK & BE HAPPY
A recent survey suggests that couples who
share a bottle of wine at least once a week
enjoy marital life far more than those that don’t.
Over 1,500 couples were quizzed and they
found that concordance - where partners have
roughly the same amount of alcohol at the same
time - breeds happiness. Hmmmmm. I always
tend to drink three-quarters of the bottle tho’....
THE EDGE Chelmsford CM2 6XD
077 646 797 44
[email protected]
*
Christmas Menu Now Available
The Wine Cellar
B A R
&
B I S T R O
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“A place to start
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No 4. Dukes Street
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1st - 24th Dec (Booking Essential)
*Beaujolais Day 15th November
breakfast and set menu
available. (booking essential)
* New winter menu now
available vegi night first
wednesday of every month
Steak night thursday
(2 steaks and a bottle
of wine £26.)
www.thewinecellarchelmsford.co.uk
Page 4
[email protected]
The Edge 01245 348256
20/10/2012
09:50
Page 5
Beer Pump Clip
sports injury massage
& rehabilitation clinic
Jackie O’Neill
NO PLACE IN A LOCAL MONTHLY FANZINE FOR
STUFF LIKE THIS...
....although every now and then you’ve just got to make an exception.
Basically though, what you see here is indefensible. Your editor saw it and that was pretty much
it....he just turned into a jibbering wreck. But that’s the power of photography...funny what sort of
effect it can have on you, isn’t it?
I guess to most women looking at this shot, it’s simply 10 scantily clad babes wearing bearskins.
But to your average bloke, oh, just look at their delicious shape/form. Just look at the way some
of them arch. And if all that wasn’t enough, The Edge reckons their bras have been painted on.
I never saw these ladies at the recent ESSEXstreetdiversions though and I blame CCC’s Anna
Yates for that (come on Anna, get your finger out, love).
In my dreams, I would be sat outside Pret a Manger, having a right refreshing brew and a duck &
hoi sin sauce wrap in the winter sunshine, and these ladies would start walking suggestively
down the High Street towards me, before whisking me off to a back room in Shire Hall.
OMG, that would be so divine.
Shit...you live your life, you pay your taxes, you’re a decent, upstanding’ish’ kind of a citizen, yet
stuff like this never, ever happens to you.
Why not?
I bloody well want it, I do.
D&A
main road
great waltham CM3 1DE
T. 0758 362 9493
Ali’s Taxis
46-46-46
inc. 8 seater mini-buses
Airport Trips
Corporate Accounts Welcome
Page 5
20/10/2012
09:55
Page 6
WHAT THIS PICTURE SAYS TO THE EDGE...
“THE SYDNEY MARDI GRAS IS THE WAY FORWARD!”
Freshly made sandwiches, jacket potatoes, salad boxes,
homemade soups, cakes & much much more!
Duke Street. Tel: 01245 499114
It’s an annual lesbian and gay pride parade
only somehow you just can’t see it happening
in Chelmsford, can you?
It doesn’t half pack the crowds in though seemingly hundreds of thousands of folk from
all over the world. Boasting that it is one of
the biggest parties of its kind, it offers Bondi
Beach Drag Races, a Harbour Party & Fair
Day and even an academic discussion panel
called, of all things, Queer Thinking.
This event has grown since 1978 when
numerous participants were initially arrested
by the fuzz for ‘revealing themselves’.
Naturally The Edge thinks it’s great, but not
everyone is happy. The Mardi Gras has consistently attracted opposition from a variety of
religious and political groups and every single
year without fail, a fella by the name of Fred
Nile leads a prayer for rain on the day it is
held (usually in early March if any of you are
thinking of popping over to catch it).
It is certainly colourful though, The Edge will
give it that, as well as being a really good
excuse (if ever one were needed) to flash
your knob in public*.
*That is not to say that this publication condones flashers, because it doesn’t. It thinks
they’re sad/funny, but no....best don’t do it!
DOORS - DOORS - DOORS
‘Cheerful Bob’ & Bros. inc. ‘Serious Chris’
& ‘Forgetful Dave’ - ‘all Alive & Fitting!”
Family Business Est. 1979
Internal/External, Hardwood/Softwood,
Stairs & Spindles a speciality.
Visit our door stall on Saturday’s at Chelmsford Market
01245 361201 0777 893 8920
Page 6
Look what this ickle girl has just clocked?
[email protected]
20/10/2012
09:56
Page 7
RESULT!
The Edge wouldn’t usually comment about a celebrity ‘D’ list wedding as it
is far too high brow and all of that malarkey, and certainly not into any form
of sensationalistic journalism, bollocks and claptrap etc.
However, on this particular occasion it will make an exception because
your editor has actually met Nick Knowles in the Polzeath Spar, of all
places (least I think it’s a Spar in Polzeath), back in late July of 2011.
Now when I say ‘met’.....Knowlesy was buying a carton of milk at the time
as I accidently put my camera in his face and gave it plenty of flash!
Thing is, he was with this little girl who The Edge Crew all assumed had to
be his daughter....only now we realise that it must have been his then
fiance - and now wife - Jessica Rose Moor (25), whilst our Nick is literally
twice that age, the dirty old bugger.
What a result, eh?
The couple got married in Rome as you may well have seen in one of
those celebrity gossip mags (such as KO or ’Ey Up) that they tend to have
loads of last years copies of in hair salons and dentist’s waiting-rooms.
Knowlesy says that Jessica “makes everything sweeter”.
Aaaaaah. Isn’t that lovely, readers?
Wonder if he’ll still be saying that in 10 years time? The Edge only mentions this because Mrs Edge used to, you know, simply get on with ‘cooking the tea’ - like women should do. Only these days she’s forever making
barbed comments the likes of, “When are you going to learn how to cook?”
and “You make me sick, you do.”
“I came to the conclusion that you can’t spend the rest of your life worrying
about what other people think,” says NK.
Meanwhile, the all new Mrs Knowles says, “I find it extremely bizarre that
some people think I must have had another reason for marrying Nick,
other than the fact that I have fallen completely in love with him.”
So anyway, enough of that and what about the time Knowlesy revealed on
Twatter that he’d burnt his knob on the oven door? What a ‘boy’ he is.
Apparently, he did it whilst indulging in a spot of naked baking (baking =
kitchens, kitchens = Spazio...plug, plug, readers, see advertisement right) an apple crumble to be precise - when the unfortunate scorching occurred.
“I singed the end of my Hampton whilst putting the crumble in the oven,”
admitted the DIY SOS front man. In order to ease the pain, he says he,
“rubbed some butter on it before plunging it into a pint of iced Pimms.”
Why couldn’t he have just said ‘glass’, eh? As in: “A glass of iced Pimms.”
But no. Old Knowlesy just has to infer that his ‘Hampton’ wouldn’t fit into a
common-or-garden glass and only a pint glass would admit his unfeasibly
large girthed one-eyed trouser snake.
Christ, this is turning into ‘50 Shades of Crap Revisited’.
Good job I’ve run out of room.....
The Edge 01245 348256
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Page 7
23/10/2012
08:51
Page 8
CITIZEN
Page 8
This month Citizen
looks at everyday
things that it simply
doesn’t understand?
Forgive me for having a
rant this month, but are
there everyday occurrences that affect your
life, albeit in somewhat
trivial ways, that you
simply do not understand?
Maybe there are things that aren’t how they used to be,
but it isn’t clear when or why they changed, or if things
have improved because of them?
They may be assumptions that seem to have been
made by individuals, or organisations, that appear to
make no sense to you whatsoever?
So let me explain what I mean and touch upon three or
four specific issues....
Is it only Citizen among the millions of road users in this
country who doesn’t possess an encyclopaedic knowledge of exactly where every junction number on every
motorway and every ‘A’ road goes to? Yet listen to any
radio motorway report and you’ll hear things such as:
“Severe delays after junction 13 on the M6” or “There’s
a wide load taking up two lanes on the M4 between
junctions 16 and 17 so expect delays”.
Where the hell are these junctions?
Does anyone - other than mandarins at the Department
of Transport, long-distance lorry drivers, the Motorway
Police and Bart Simpson’s Dad in your SatNav - actually know, or give a damn?
Isn’t it safe to assume that the drivers most interested
in, and affected by, such reports are probably strangers
to the areas in question and therefore in need of such
basic information as place names, likely destinations
and alternative routes via named towns and villages, as
opposed to junction numbers?
But everyday drivers using the motorway network, for
example on the M6, would be far better served knowing
that the delay at junction 13 was at the Stafford exit and
that the delays on the M4 between 16 and 17 were at
the turnoffs serving Swindon and Chippenham, so why
the hell don’t they just tell us that?
Then there are the puzzling policies based on either
politically correct or environmental issues that some
companies adopt without further explanation, safe in
the knowledge - perhaps - that no one dare challenge
them.
For example, there is a well known high street
newsagent, stationer and bookseller found in most
towns and cities that Citizen loves, but is nonetheless
puzzled by. In no less than three branches of this worthy and valuable retailer (as far apart as Chelmsford,
Hertford and York) Citizen has been challenged, and
once shamed, by simply asking for a bag in which to
carry the goods he had just bought on the grounds of
saving on packaging and therefore saving the environment.
But as the store in question specialises - in a very comprehensive and valuable way - predominantly in paper
and card products, why not offer some cheap paper
bags made from recycled materials that themselves can
be recycled?
In York, Citizen was actually charged for a bag - that,
naturally, carried the company’s logo to be carried
thereafter for all to see - in which to carry a book that it
had just purchased, when the main reason for asking
for it in the first place was to avoid the embarrassment
of potentially being challenged were it then to enter
another establishment selling the same item, while having about ones person the product unwrapped and, to
all intents, looking like a shoplifter when it came to leaving the shop!
It’s all very well saying that you have a receipt, but who
actually wants to be apprehended by a store detective
in the first place, despite being innocent?
Citizen also wonders why it is that it is easier to buy a
packet of Corn Flakes at 3.00am in the morning 6 days
a week (excluding Sundays) than it is to see a GP from
the practice where Citizen is registered in an emergency or at weekends?
Citizen, as previous discursions in this very column
have no doubt already revealed, grew up in the fifties
and sixties, at a time when the larger grocer’s shops
closed at either 5.30pm or, at the very latest, 6.00pm.
They were not open on Sundays at all.
When the new supermarkets arrived - with Tesco in the
forefront alongside an astonishing and welcome
realignment of Sainsbury’s (a former traditional grocer)
- they kept similar hours, only gradually increasing to an
8.00pm closing time.
At the same time, if you ‘took sick’ overnight, or at the
weekend, you could get an emergency call out from a
familiar doctor from the practice you were with who
actually had access to your ‘notes’. Indeed, there might
even be Saturday surgeries other than for ‘emergencies’ - perhaps for commuters and the like.
But nowadays, if you run out of Corn Flakes, Brillo
Pads or Batteries at any time of the day and night,
Monday to Saturday - or for at least 6 hours on a
Sunday - all you have to do is go to the nearest 24/7
superstore, which can be found in most small towns,
and your needs are generally met in full.
But try to see you own doctor, or one of their partners,
after 6.30pm, or at weekends, when a real need arises
and you are far more likely to find yourself served by an
‘out of hours’ agency medic who, no doubt, is just as
well qualified, but it’s not quite the same as seeing
someone you know and have developed a trust in, is it?
In all fairness, Citizen believes that this so called initiative was brought about under the auspices of the local
PCTs (Primary Care Trusts) and not by GPs themselves.
However, one would hazard a guess that if you’d
stopped a grocer and a general practitioner in the street
in, say, 1962 and asked them which of their chosen
professions would be the most likely to be still at work
on a shift at 11.00pm at night, or during the day on a
Sunday, 50 years on in 2012, the grocer would probably have laughed in your face as he or she made their
way home to watch ‘Wagon Train’, ‘Take Your Pick’ or
‘Emergency Ward 10’ on their two-channel black and
white telly!
The doctor, on the other hand, would have wearily
consulted the surgery rota and, stethoscope around
neck, gone and made that house call.
Only don’t run away with the idea that Citizen is a
social, environmental or retail Luddite. Far from it.
Citizen is an enthusiastic and committed ‘recycler’, taking bottles to the bottle bank and newspapers to the
specific newsprint recycling bins, usually found in car
parks - the ones that make sure the paper goes back to
the excellent recycling plant in Kent where they really
do know how to turn it back into paper fit to print on.
Citizen also faithfully sorts the household food waste
into the council supplied slop bucket (sorry, I mean
‘caddy’); the cardboard, plastic and tins into the right
places and makes sure they are all out in the right
place, at the right time, and in the right bin or bag for
the council environmental team to collect.
Nevertheless, if you will permit one final rant, the only
thing that does puzzle Citizen, having talked to friends
or relatives from different Boroughs or Council areas, is
why the rules seem to differ from Council to Council as
to what goes where and in which receptacle?
Surely there is only one way to get it right and save the
planet?
The Edge 01245 348256
20/10/2012
10:03
Page 9
Major Charity Fireworks Event
Saturday 3rd November
Chelmsford's major charity fireworks event is set to be even bigger and
better this year, in turn raising money for various local good causes.
It is organised by Chelmsford Round Table with the venue being in
Admirals Park, Rainsford Road, Chelmsford on Saturday 3rd November.
Gates open for the children's funfair at 6.00pm. Then at 6.30pm it’s the
Heart FM Roadshow ‘live’ on stage with the Firework Display starting at
7.30pm prompt.
Get your tickets beforehand (to avoid queuing) from:
Fastsigns, Victoria Road (New Street traffic lights), Chelmsford.
Chelmsford Travel & Visitor Information Centre, 8 Dukes Walk, Duke
Street, Chelmsford.
Tickets are available for collection during the day on Saturday 27th and
Sunday 28th October and also on Saturday 3rd November in the High
Chelmer Shopping Centre.
Prices: Adults: £6.00; Children: £4.00 (5-16 years)
Families: £15.00 (2 Adults/2 Children or 1 Adult/3 Children)
The good causes include:
Js Hospice - http://www.thejshospice.org.uk/
Kids Inspire - http://www.kidsinspire.org.uk/
Chelmsford Round Table 132 Charitable Trust Number 1079149
http://www.chelmsford.roundtable.co.uk/events/3670/chelmsford-fireworks-2012/
http://www.facebook.com/RTBIFireworksChelmsford
Page 9
20/10/2012
10:19
Page 10
Swimming
Lessons
DW«
For more details contact Zoe on :
07935 319462,
e-mail us at:
[email protected]
or visit us at:
www.TheAquaAcademy.org.uk
David Sherman’s
BEVERAGE
REPORT
Where Effort
is rewarded
Pupils of all abilities welcome
If you’re a pub-goer and a follower
of current affairs, you’ll no doubt
be aware that various groups are
advocating the introduction of
minimum pricing for alcohol - in
fact, it already exists in Scotland,
albeit in a different form from that
being advocated for the rest of
mainland UK. The theory is that,
by forbidding retailers to sell alcoholic drinks for less than a certain
(still comparatively low) price,
‘problem drinking’ will be all but
eradicated. Two reasons are given
as to why this effect is likely: firstly, that it will be too expensive for
those with a lot of time on their
hands and only a little money to
buy an excess of (for example)
cheap beer, sherry or vodka at the
supermarket; and secondly, that
the price differential between ontrade and off-trade will be
reduced, making pubs and other
supervised environments a far
more attractive option for drinkers.
Whoever advocates these proposals either does not have a great
deal of understanding of British
drinking culture, or they simply
have not thought too much about
what they are saying. The fact is,
selling alcohol for fifty pence a
unit, which appears to be the most
widely-proposed figure, will still
mean that a large can of weak
lager will cost less than a pound,
as distinct from around three
pounds in most pubs. This is hardly a convincing economic argument for those trying to get people
into pubs to be using.
Further to that, the issue is not
simply that supermarket beer is
very cheap compared to pub beer.
The issue is that, whilst supermarkets sell much of their food VATfree, pubs have to pay 20% VAT
on all food sales. Supermarkets
can therefore subsidise beer by
raising the price of their food.
They can also, therefore, lower
the price of their food to subsidise
an increase in the price of their
beer. A supermarket bases its
pricing on a basket cost, so which
item attracts which profit is less
important than the average price
of the total package of goods with
which we leave the store. Should
the current proposals become law,
supermarkets will get a higher
profit margin per unit on alcoholic
Page 10
drinks (for this is merely a government-mandated price increase,
not a tax increase), but they will
maintain their competitiveness by
offsetting the increase elsewhere.
A further non-sequitur in the argument is the idea that people will
drink less if they are in pubs.
Have the minimum-price brigade
never been out on a Friday night?
Our town centres are overflowing
with drunks who get served in
bars (having already had plenty of
cheap supermarket booze at
home) that don’t dare to turn them
away precisely because they’ve
lost too much trade to the supermarkets already. And, as I discussed earlier, the bars and pubs
are subsidising the very trade
that’s putting them out of business!
Worse, of course, is yet to come.
There is now a proposal afoot to
impose a late night tax levy on
late-night premises. Not seeming
to have noticed that pubs pay a
huge amount of tax already to
cover the costs of late-night policing, drink-related injuries and so
on, the Government now wants
them to pay even more.
Supermarkets, once again, will not
be paying that on any beer they
sell during daylight hours, so the
same people who are trying to
price people back into pubs will in
fact be persuading them to buy
from supermarkets and drink in
the park or street after midnight.
Far from reducing unsupervised
drinking, which they claim leads
all too easily to drunkenness, the
Government plans to increase it.
The pub industry does not need
the introduction of minimum pricing with a minimum of thought. It
needs a wholesale reduction in
alcohol tax, a reduction in VAT in
pubs (as is already happening in
other EU countries) and recognition that it already pays its way
and can’t be expected to contribute any more. But, as David
Cameron has trouble distinguishing between a pub and a crèche,
that might require a little too much
understanding.
The Edge 01245 348256
20/10/2012
10:36
Page 11
Surf DOG Contest
Cowabunga!
Did you see this in the ’papers last month, readers?
The Surf City Surf Dog contest on, er, the River Chelmer?
The doggie-woggie above is called Deagan and is described as ‘a rose-eared
French Bulldog with orange balls.....’
Hang on a minute, that can’t be right, surely?
Anyway, your editor still hasn’t taken that damn rent-a-pug out for walkies yet,
but a pug is hardly a bloke’s kind of dog, is it?
And neither are those bloody Staffs (far too many of their owners are completely the wrong sort in The Edge’s humble opinion).
I suppose you’d call a German Shepherd a ‘man’s dog’, wouldn’t you?
Especially after it stretches out on it’s back in front of the fire, showing off it’s
impressively sized testicles and letting out a silent room-clearer.
But imagine picking up one of its ‘dog egg’ deposits in a plastic bag? Christ,
you’d need a supermarket carrier bag where a German Shepherd’s concerned.
Another reason why dogs are so shite is the fact that I’ve never met one you
can hold a decent conversation with.
Nor have I ever seen one driving its owner home from the pub late at night.
Page 11
22/10/2012
09:50
Page 12
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Page 12
russells
restaurant
opens its doors
to ‘us’ proles!
NEW 2-course & 3-course
Table D’hote Menu
£13.50 - £21.95
allows man-in-the-street
to taste finer things in life
Barry Warren-Watson inviting The Edge to critique his restaurant is somewhat akin to giving Jimmy Saville the scissors to cut the purple silk ribbon
that announces the opening of a primary school sports day.
In a word, it’s totally inappropriate.
But hey, times change and these days the hoypoloi are not to be scoffed at
and if ever a publication has been taken to the bosom of the man-in-thestreet, it has got to be this one.
So I asked myself a question; Would I, the proprietor of my very own
organ, have liked to be served Seared Scallops with Local Black Pudding
& Sweet Corn Puree as my starter? Aye, you’re damn right I would.
Ah, but would I be willing to fork out the £11.50 a la carte asking price?
“What, for a starter? Leave it out!”
Horses for courses, dear readers, horses for courses.
Which is why Barry knows exactly what he’s doing by introducing fayre for
the common man - least this is The Edge’s ‘take’ on the matter - he is
simply giving us the opportunity to both sample and appreciate how things
ought to be done.
Let The Edge put its cards on the table; it was not particular looking
forward to spending an evening at Russells Restaurant.
“You what, Edge bloke? You’re having a laugh, aren’t you? You’re offered a
freebie, yet you’re saying the deal was a poisoned chalice?”
Correct.
I had heard that Russells was a fine dining establishment, yet in 16 years
of compiling the mag., I had never once put my foot across the threshold.
But I’d checked out their photographs on their website and honestly, it just
didn’t look like the sort of place for me.
Only that kind of changed with my very first bite of one of their a ginger
and coriander bread rolls before dinner.
“Where do you buy these?” said I, the great ignoramus.
“We bake them ourselves,” offered Barry.
Now are you ‘getting’ it, readers?
Quite simply, there then followed both an education and a total treat for the
tastebuds.
My wife chose the Griddled Chicken Caesar Salad with Poached Egg (vegetarian option available) for her starter. I tasted some and since when has
lettuce ever made you smile? Ever. Meanwhile, my Wild Mushroom
Risotto, Parmesan Crisp, Endive Garnish was, without a shadow of a
doubt, the nicest tasting risotto I have ever had in my life. Seriously, it was
that good. (You know how it sometimes resembles a splodge of overcooked porridge? Believe me, this wasn’t it!)
Barry treated us to a bottle of Australian Reginald 2009 Barossa Valley
(where?) Shiraz and OMG, it was exquisite (30 quid a pop though!).
Moving on, I wanted to order the 10oz Prime 28 day aged Aberdeen Angus
Rib Eye Steak for my mains, didn’t I? Yes, of course I did. But in the interests of this article, I ordered something I have never eaten in my entire life
before; 7hr Slow Braised Belly of Pork, Mustard Mash, Chantenay Carrots,
Cider Jus and honestly, readers, it just melted in your mouth.
Meanwhile, Mrs Edge opted for the Pan Seared Haddock Fillet, Buttered
New Potatoes, Lemon Caper Butter and it was as though the chef had
created the ocean; it ‘tasted’ every bit like what fish is supposed to taste
like (inc. texture) and just the opposite to what we’ve become atuned to it
tasting like in many an establishment (i.e. watery, bland).
By now, it was clear that our shared Roasted Apple & Cinnamon Oat
Crumble with English Custard dessert would simply follow suit; delicious.
In short, Russells Restaurant is all about the ‘taste’ and I am genuinely not
accustomed to food being prepared and cooked this damn well.
OK, so the decor’s not quite to The Edge’s taste, but it’s the only thing that
isn’t. Foodwise: absolutely faultless.
bell street, great baddow, CM2 7JR. Tel: 01245 478484
www.russellsrest.co.uk
The Edge 077 646 797 44
20/10/2012
10:31
Page 13
Present this voucher to receive a
WASH, CUT
& BLOWDRY
all for
WHOA...HANG ON
A MINUTE!
“Didn’t he just jump?”
“Naa, don’t be daft.”
“No, he did. He just jumped.”
These days, The Edge imagines, we can all be forgiven for thinking that we’ve
‘seen it all before’ already (and usually David Blaine has gotten there first).
But not this time. Oh no sirree.
Felix Baumgartner, eh? What a bloke. The first chap to break wind completely
unaided (and into a spacesuit at that) from a right extensive height.
Can you imagine what it’s like to ‘fall’ a distance of 24 miles at 833mph?
Is he bloody Superman, or what?
The Edge just doesn’t ‘get’ how he’s still alive, let alone capable of carrying out
the cheekiest of ‘oh, I do this every day’ parachute landings.
And how about this for a quote; just before he jumped into space, he said to
himself: ‘I wish the world could see what I can see now. Sometimes you have
to get really high to see how small you really are.’
Only how did Baumgartner simply not explode when he went supersonic?
How many Shredded Wheat does he have for breakfast?
And how he got out of that ‘spin’ Christ only knows.
Quite simply, one of the most incredible things The Edge has ever seen.
£23.00*
CALL (01245) 346348
Walk in appointments also available.
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* This voucher not to be used in conjunction with any other
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Valid Sundays to Thursdays during November 2012.
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www.backinntime.co.uk
Page 13
23/10/2012
10:32
Page 14
Gangland Criminality on the Streets
of CM1
At the behest of The Edge, one was asked to
infiltrate Chelmsford’s dark gangland underworld
around this seemingly quiet city in waiting. The
neanderthal editor chose myself over ‘Totally
Tracie’ or the socialist ‘Citizen’ as he required a
journalist of superior education, nous and, most of
all, an unfeasibly large pair of balls. Shocked and
saddened by what I found, one felt the need to
raise the alarm and warn you good people. In the
vocabulary of the youth - ‘There’s a whole lot goin’
down’.
Yes, this gentle-but-well-educated-man went
undercover to spend two whole weeks amongst
the intoxicated hoodlums, revealing a criminal
underbelly the likes of which has not yet been
seen in Chelmsford since, oh, 1999.
I began my venture with the Riverside Vipers; two
wheelered moped maniacs who ‘hang’ at the
frankly criminally overpriced Riverside Leisure
Centre car-park.
“What crew you from, man?”
I was befuddled, quickly tracking my memory of
the Urban Dictionary for parallel discourse. “The
Boys Brigade,” I cantered.
They laughed. We moved on. On to find trouble on to skate the ice.
One gained trust and bought kudos by exchanging Merlin stickers and bubbled gum, the black
currency of the underworld, and doing ‘dares’ such as punching one’s self in one’s face as hard
as one possibly could. The Gentleman continues
to regret handing over one’s Phil Jagielka shiny in
exchange for a plain Park Ji-Sun, but one accepts
it was necessary to get ‘amongst it’.
Both I and they sat around in our Native Indian
hoodies, occasionally shouting ‘bogies’ at harmless old folk, a can of shandy bass in our (but
obviously not my) dirty impoverished fingers.
The fortnight is now a hazy blur, my memory
warped by sniffing a Prit-Stick opposite Matalan
and taking some ethanol shots that Mungo took
for a game of tag-rugger or shin-kicking. One’s
mind is hazy, but I recall a two litre bottle of White
Lightening being handed around, liberally supped,
and Mungo being proudly flatulent as ever.
Gobbler claimed to have thieved some Revels
from Tesco, but we all saw the receipt. After all, if
you were going to thieve, you’d surely opt for a
selection pack, but this, evidently, was a portion
for one, depressingly over-laden with orange and
coffee nuggets. But what was clear and shocking
was that the young chap wanted to be a crook the intent percolating from his morally baron
pores.
The Gentleman
from his state school chemistry class. “Mungo is a
nut-case“ they would chant, as if summoning the
devil. He was in my view, although it has yet to be
medically proven. High on fumes and frivolity we
spray-canned what can only be described as a
chaps shaft and testes on the railway underpass,
just down the way from the New Garden Asian
take- away. Educational note: One found New
Garden does an exquisite pancake role - even if
they also sell a lot of foreign muck. My fortnight
was going to go further into the mire from this
point. It was a buzz, particularly for their mundane
existences, but clearly very wrong - and a donation has been sent to my pals at National Rail to
compensate.
One of these poisonous ‘Vipers’, who the
Gentleman can’t name for legal reasons, mentioned that their second cousin was involved in the
Tottenham riots. One felt like Ross Kemp - I was
in, perhaps too deep. Remember, fellow
Chelmsfordians, we are living but a spiked security fence away from these people
The Gentleman and his band of gutter-folk scooted down toward Central Park one eve, doubtless
On arrival at the tin, park-ruining, ‘half-pipe’, we
were approached by the Viper’s deadly rivals - the
BSCs (Bus Shelter Crew).
“This is our park,” the tattooed BSC leader said,
pushing Gobbler.
“I think you’ll find this is her Majesty the Queen’s
Park,” I retorted.
“Mark this shit-head!”
Five, maybe eight, of the BSCs began to attack
us, throwing eggs and flour at us all, jamming our
scooter engines with soon to be lightly aired batter. My face was a powdery mess - I was a
Geisha emasculated by idiots of the park. My pal’s
batallion tearful and weepy, tarred with eggs and
flour, like lepers. My garments ruined. Food albeit wholemeal flour - wasted. Mobile phoned
vermin catching every humiliating moment.
We were downbeat. Gobbler had his Sovereign
brutally ripped from his finger, which he lost it in
the melee.
The Vipers retreated just beyond the Pitch’n’Putt,
stopping in Texaco for a banana frij to settle our
nerves. My nostrils flared - I couldn’t help but feel
humiliated and ashamed - my crew had been
‘dissed’; my honour in tatters.
We had to fight back - but was I still a Gentleman,
or was I now corrupted - just another brokenhomed Viper?
To be continued...
30% Faster Than The National Average
Historically, summer was always a time of slower sales, according to the media. But here at
The Home Partnership, we must have been a
serious exception to the rule after recording our
second best sales month of 2012 whilst the sun
was shining brightly over Chelmsford.
Scott Mason MNAEA
Director
The ‘excuse’, of course, would have been that
the Olympic Games were a distraction for
prospective buyers and sellers alike, compounded by the traditionally quiet summer holiday period. However, we are acutely aware that even
such glorious events pale into insignificance for
anyone who has a real need to move.
Indeed, Rightmove reported a marginal increase
in new properties entering the market in August,
whilst dips in buyer activity on their site were
only at key moments during The Games, when
activity, at times, dropped by as much as 50%.
Your INFORMATIVE
Estate Agent
However, we feel that motivated buyers and sellers still have sufficient time to get moving in
2012 and we have already seen, during
October, that sellers in particular have a brand
new focus to get in ahead of the expected
autumn rush and sell their homes before the
New Year arrives.
This, of course, should alert existing vendors to
the fact that we are now in a new cycle on the
property calendar. If your home has been on the
market since the spring, perhaps it’s time to consider repositioning your property? The average
time before a house sells on the open market is
92 days (nationally), although here at The Home
Partnership, our average is 30% faster than that.
So our message to you is that although volumes
nationally remain half of what they were at the
peak of the property boom, activity is hotting up
nicely. That said, if you are serious about selling,
then a combination of the right agent, the right
marketing, the right negotiation skills and the
right price advice - combined, of course, with an
Olympian attitude - really ought to have you
moved in by the New Year.
Call us now to book a serious market appraisal
of your home, or take advantage of booking
online and receive £250 OFF our standard
selling fees.
www.thehomepartnership.co.uk
11 Duke Street, Chelmsford CM1 1HL
Telephone: 01245 250222
Page 14
The Edge 077 646 797 44
22/10/2012
10:01
Page 15
Dunmow Waste Management
‘LARGE ENOUGH TO SERVE YOUR NEEDS - SMALL ENOUGH TO CARE’
Established in 1987, Dunmow Waste Management is a family owned
business that has made substantial growth in the past couple of years.
The company has recently relocated from Great Dunmow - as its name
suggests - to Regiment Way in Chelmsford and in so doing has created
many local jobs ranging from transport to office staff.
The company operates a recycling and recovery centre and works hard to
ensure it hits, and more often than not exceeds, its own waste management targets of 90 per cent plus.
Sam Malins, MD, says, “Waste management has now become more complex than ever, but by leaving it all to us, you can be 100% assured that
your waste is being correctly and carefully disposed of.”
The team has built up an unrivaled level of knowledge and expertise in its
field, fast becoming leaders in service and reliability, whilst helping its customers to always make the right decisions. What’s more, the firm’s commitment to serving its customers both ethically and responsibly, coupled with
its belief and expectation in high standards, puts it head and shoulders
above all other providers in the area.
Dunmow Waste Management operates a recycling and recovery centre
from where the recyclables and waste collected is sorted and bulked for
transportation to a network of pre-processors, recovery and disposal
facilities.
Page 15
22/10/2012
10:03
Page 16
When you wear a ring every day
Don’t settle for an everyday ring
Your wedding ring is the most emotionally significant piece of jewellery that
you wear, so make it even more personal by engraving a special message or
design in your own handwriting*.
* Specialised engraving available on Furrer Jacot designs only.
3 Barrack Square, CHELMSFORD, CM2 0UU
01245 500 499
[email protected]
Stores also at Brentwood & Hertford
Page 16
www.lancejames.co.uk
The Edge 077 646 797 44
22/10/2012
10:03
Page 17
YOUR
letters
&
emails
to theedge!
CHELMSFORD, CM2 6XD.
[email protected]
22/10/2012
10:20
Page 18
TROUBLED TOM
Dear Edge,
I have never written to you before,
but I really need your advice.
I have suspected for some time
that my wife has been cheating on
me. There’s all the usual signs:
’phone rings, but if I answer, the
caller hangs up.
My wife has been going out with
'the girls' a lot recently, although
when I ask her their names, she
always says, "Just some girls from
work, you don't know them."
I try to stay awake and look out for
her when she comes home, but I
usually fall asleep.
Anyway, I have never broached the
subject with my wife. I think deep
down I just don’t want to know the
truth. But last night she went out
again, so I decided to finally check
up on her. Around midnight, I hid in
the garage behind my golf clubs so
that I could get a good view of the
street when she arrived home from
her night out with ‘the girls’.
When she got out of the car she
started buttoning up her blouse
before retrieving her panties from
her purse and slipping them on.
It was at that moment, crouching
behind my clubs, that I noticed a
hairline crack where the grip meets
the graphite shaft on my 3-wood.
Tell me, is this something you think
I could fix myself, or should I take it
back to the pro-shop where I
bought it?
Troubled Tom.
You actually ‘had me going’ for a
bit there, Tom, but I think you
should only trust your club in
the hands of a professional. E.E.
WESTSIDE!
Striker!
Could you please put a picture of
my wonderful daughter Maisy in
your splendid organ, wishing her a
belated happy birthday from her
Dad. I totally missed it due to the
fact I was laid up in hospital after
breaking my leg playing football.
Westside!
Jan Attrell
their onrushing number 1 to
then flatten you with his momentum and totally bugger up your
Christmas. Yep, life sure can be
a total bitch at times.
E.E.
JUST LIKE ENGLAND
Hi Shaun,
Still loving the mag, so took one to
Barbados with me in October.
Oh poor, poor you, Jan lad. What
makes it worse is that I understand you were in a one-on-one
situation with the opposing
’keeper before you lost your
cool completely and blazed
hideously over the bar from
inside the 18 yard box, only for
It’s just like England....apart from
the 30 degree heat, warm azure
waters and seafood galore!
Craig Fletcher
You are making me green with
envy, Craig lad, as I’d really like
to visit Barbados.
E.E.
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Page 18
After
Five
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HooDoo
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The Edge 077 646 797 44
22/10/2012
Set in the trendy west end
railway arches in Chelmsford,
Suite.429 Men’s Grooming
Lounge is making a big impact
in the city and surrounding
areas. Offering everything
under one roof for the modern
man in a variety of lifestyles,
Suite.429 is the place to go.
Daniel, the owner, has done a
fantastic job in taking the stigma out of men wanting to look
good. The relaxed, friendly and
lively atmosphere makes you
feel immediately at ease, whilst
the stone walls, motorbike
(yes, motorbike) and record
sleeves on the walls all help to
reinforce the ambiance. He’s
also quite quirkily and cleverly
given the waxing treatments
available train station names to
take the embarrassment out of
booking them. Says Daniel:
“You’d be amazed how many
people ’phone up to book a
Crystal Palace or a Hampstead
Heath. I mean honestly, who
wants to ask to have their butt
crack waxed over the ’phone?
It’s just a far nicer way of discussing bookings with our ever
increasing client base.”
Daniel continues, “We also get
a lot of wives ’phoning up on
their husband’s behalves,
saying that they haven’t got
any excuse for not having their
backs waxed any more, now
that there’s a dedicated men’s
grooming salon in Chelmsford.
That’s probably why our location works so very well for us.
We’re not in the High Street, so
no-one has to worry about
being seen coming or going.”
So what’s available?
Suite.429’s barbering experience is a cut above the rest.
Meanwhile massage, whether
it be sports, relaxing, deep tisThe Edge 01245 348256
10:46
Page 19
sue or, as found in top London
salons, lymphatic, is second-tonone. There’s also facials,
manicures and pedicures, tanning, waxing and even a sauna
that seats 15 and a steam
room that accommodates 8.
“Our lymphatic massage is
very popular,” says Daniel. “It’s
a very gentle massage that
stimulates the lymphatic nodes
in your body; lymph nodes act
as a barrier to infection by
scavenging bacteria and foreign materials. With the nasty
weather approaching, more
and more people are using it
as a natural way to protect
themselves from catching colds
and flu. It also has a great
side-effect in helping weight
loss and who doesn’t want
that?”
With winter just around the corner, what better way to chase
away those grey day blues
then a soul warming sauna
and/or steam. Suite.429 even
supply you with towels, a locker and shower gel. Not only
that, they also run a loyalty
scheme so that you can eventually earn a free entry.
In the words of one of Daniel’s
clients: “I popped in to enquire
about prices and ended up
having a sauna, steam, hair
cut, massage and a right laugh
with the friendly staff. I’ve
never felt so relaxed. I even
booked a New Cross!” (’Phone
for further details!)
And with Christmas coming up,
what better way to treat your
family and friends than with a
Gift Voucher for Suite.429.
Or simply ‘cut out (or photocopy) the money’ in the advert
on this page and use it to treat
*Terms & Conditions
yourself*!
Page 19
22/10/2012
ONLY
JOKING!
SISTER’S NEW BOYFRIEND
The teacher says, "OK class, I'd like you all to
tell me what you need at home?"
Susan says: "We need a computer, Miss."
Tanya says, "We need a car, Miss."
Johnny says, "We don't need anything, Miss."
The teacher says, "Come, come, Johnny, everybody needs something?"
"No Miss,” says Johnny. “My sister came home
with her new boyfriend last night and he’s nearly
as old as my Dad. So my Dad definitely said,
“That's all we f
ing well need."
***
GREAT ARTISTS OF OUR TIME
My missus asked me to help her stop sucking
her thumb, so I drew a cock on it for her.
BARE-FACED CHEEK
He had the cheek to say to me: “What have you
been doing with all the grocery money I give
you?”
So I said to him: “Turn sideways and take a
good look in the mirror, Fatty.”
NOT WHAT YOU THINK
Hiya.
I'm at A & E.
Just a quick word of warning....The Dyson Ball
Cleaner isn’t necessarily as its name suggests.
ROYAL DOULTON
To commemorate the releasing of the topless
photographs of Kate Middleton in France recently, Royal Doulton will themselves be releasing a
collector's edition of small jugs.
CRABS
The missus has just rang me screaming,
"You've given me crabs, you bastard! How could
11:42
Page 20
you?"
I said to her, "Whoooaaaa, little lady. Now just
hold on there one minute. Before you start
blaming me......have a word with your sister!"
THE BEST AUSSIE PICK UP
LINE EVER?
An Aussie walks into a bar and takes a seat
next to a very attractive lady. He gives her a
quick glance then casually looks at his watch for
a moment.
The woman notices and asks, “Is your date running late?”
“No,” he replies. “I just got this state-of the-art
new watch and I was just testing it out.”
The intrigued woman says, “State-of- the-art,
eh? What's so special about it?”
The Aussie says, “It uses alpha waves to talk to
me telepathically.”
The lady says, “Wow! What's it telling you now?'“
“It says you're not wearing any panties,” says
the Aussie.
The woman smiles and replies, “Well, it must be
broken because I am most definitely wearing
panties.”
The Aussie taps his watch and says, “Damn!
The bloody thing's an hour fast.”
FOREPLAY
He said to me: “I’ve notice you never blink
during foreplay?”
I said to him: “I honestly don't have time.”
call me a slapper? Get out of my bed right now
and take your mates with you.”
DYSLEXIC YORKSHIREMAN
Just seen a Dyslexic Yorkshireman wearing a
cat flap.
NEW PERFUME
I bought a new perfume for my wife called
Chloroforma, only she says it makes her sleepy
and her bum sore.
Q&A
Q: You are driving in a car at a constant speed.
On your left-hand side there is a drop of
between 18” - 24” inches and on your right-hand
side is a fire engine traveling at the same speed
as you.
In front of you is a galloping horse, which is
roughly the same size as your car and you
cannot overtake it.
To the rear is a galloping zebra. (Both the horse
and the zebra are also traveling at the same
speed as you.)
What must you do to safely get out of this highly
dangerous situation?
A: Get off the merry-go-round....you're pissed.
PARKING THE BUS
BREAKDANCING
A husband took his wife to a disco at the weekend and there was a guy on the dance floor giving it large - breakdancing, moonwalking, back
flips, the whole works. His wife turned to her
husband and said, “See that guy there? Twenty
five years ago he proposed to me and I turned
him down.
Her husband said, “Looks like he still can’t
believe his luck.”
MARRIED WOMEN HEAVIER
He said to me: “Why are married women
heavier than single women?”
I said to him: “Single women come home, see
what's in the fridge and go straight to bed.
Married women come home, see what's in bed
and go straight to the fridge.”
NO EXAGGERATION
My wife said she was leaving me because I
always exaggerate.
Well, I was so shocked, I almost tripped over my
cock.
MY BEST MATE
I was pretty excited when my new girlfriend sent
me a text message claiming that she loves anal.
Dyslexic bitch! Turns out she loves my best
mate, Alan.
CREEPY
A bloke is watching a movie on TV with creepy
organ music and suddenly yells out, "Don't enter
the church, you daft c
***!"
His wife asks him, "What on earth are you
watching? Is it a scary movie?"
Her husband replies, "Sort of. It’s our bloody
wedding video."
LOVE IS LIKE A FART
If you have to force it, it's probably shit.
SLAPPER
An Essex girl is in bed with her boyfriend when
she suddenly screams at him, "How dare you
OK, so the woman’s husband’s a coach driver
and he had a day off work and wanted to use
the car. So his wife said, “OK, honey. Take it.”
Only she forgot that she needed to pop into
town to do a bit of shopping, so she thought
she’d take the bus. Literally. After all, how hard
can it be?
STEALING A BUS
Paddy and Murphy have been out on the town
and miss the last bus home.
“What’ll we do now?” asks Paddy.
“I know,” says Murphy, “we’ll steal one!”
So off they trot to the local bus depot and Paddy
says, “Alright, oil keep a look out while you go
get us a bus.”
So off Murphy wanders into the darkness of the
depot and very soon Paddy hears an engine
start, then stop. Then he hears another engine
start, then stop. Then another. And another.
So he wanders into the depot himself, catches
up with Murphy and says, “What the hell d’you
tink you’re playing at?”
Murphy says, “Well y’see, Patrick, oi’ve had to
move a few buses about a bit as the one that
goes our way is roight at the back.”
LILY PAD RAID
Police raided Kermit’s lily pad last night and
found hundreds of photo’s of Miss Piggy in the
buff. They said it was the worst case of frog’s
porn they had ever seen.
SLAG
I’m not saying my girlfriend’s a slag, but even
the label in her knickers say ‘NEXT’.
All jokes published are supplied by Edge readers. Please send your ‘egg yokes’ to [email protected]
22/10/2012
11:33
Page 21
A Grand Day Out
If you want The Edge’s opinion of how to spend a great pre-Christmas
Saturday, then get your merry arses down to Borough Market in London.
If you’ve never spent a Saturday there before drinking mulled cider whilst
chomping on a ‘live’ ostrich burger, then you’ve proper been missing out.
But hey, you can put that right immediately with a right refreshing day trip
up there during the next couple of months.
Yes, the trains are completely fooked at Chelmsford railway station right the
way up until Christmas at the weekends, but if you travel as a foursome
you get a nice little bit of ‘dissy’ and the views from upstairs on the bus ride
to Billericay ain’t half bad, especially if you’re holding a nice hot Costa
Coffee in your lap. (The Edge thinks the return bus service runs ’til about
midnight, but never take this mag’s word for the finer details of anything always check). Then it’s but a brisk walk to Moorgate underground station
and two stops south on the Northern Line to London Bridge.
There’s no point in The Edge telling you where to go as it’s all right there in
front of you just waiting to be discovered. But if we were to give you just
one ickle tip, it’d be to start your day with a livening winter’s nip in The
Rake, a speciality blue painted beer bar with a cosy gas heater to huddle
around and sip your grog. At this time of year they usually stock an assortment of winter ales that you
Mrs Edge & Mrs Yarnall at....
definitely won’t find down
your ‘local’, and there’s also
cherry flavoured Belgian
Kriek for the ladies. Check
out www.utobeer.co.uk
Unfortunately, The Edge has
yet to sample oysters at
Wright Bros., washed down
with a crisp white wine, but
it’s definitely on the radar for
its next visit.
Meanwhile, it’s difficult to go
wrong at either Brew Wharf
and/or Vinopolis.
So wrap up warm, wear
some comfy shoes and go
and explore Borough Market
soon, folks. N.B. It’s a bit
like Chelmsford Market, only
100% totally different!
4th November’12
2nd December’12
6th January’13
3rd February’13
3rd March’13
7th April’13
ZAK BARRETT - Sax
ALEX HEARN - Guitar
CLAIRE HARPER - Vocalist
ALBERT GARZA - Sax
PAUL HIGGS - Trumpet
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JAZZ SEXTET
FREE ADMISSION/RAFFLE 8.00pm - 10.30pm
T H E W O O L PA C K
Mildmay Road, Chelmsford. Tel: 01245 259295
Page 21
22/10/2012
11:33
Page 22
If you feel the need to justify a visit
to Pontlands Park, then
by all means do a lap around the M25
before arriving...
Inside the new £1m lounge extension
Lounge skylight
From a macchiato to ladies
doing lunch
...and why not indeed!
One of the beautiful feature bedrooms
Page 22
People will seemingly drive for
miles in order to spend a luxurious
weekend away, so perhaps there
needs to be a bit of a rethink.
If its sumptuous opulence you’re
after at a price that probably won’t
scare the pants off you, then look no
further than Chelmsford’s very own
Great Baddow.
In particular, Pontlands Park.
Perhaps you haven’t been there for a
while? Perhaps you’ve never been
there at all? What, not even for a
coffee? Or an afternoon tea (which
sounds posh, but will only set you
back £10.95)? Or perhaps Sunday
lunch (where kids eat free T&C apply)?
Perhaps because it’s a hotel you
imagine the facilities are just for
their residents? When in actual fact,
nothing could be further from the
truth.
The all new Pontlands Park is simply waiting to be discovered by you.
The Edge dined there the other
Saturday evening, after a couple of
glasses of champers in the beautiful
new lounge beforehand (as one
does) and it was a true eye-opener.
“It’s like a little bit of London, isn’t
it?” said owner Jason Bartella, as
enthusiastic as he has every right to
be about the huge strides and
improvements Pontlands Park has
recently undertaken.
Manager Jonathan Beck is equally
upbeat when he matter-of-factly
states, “What’s not to like?”
And they’re both right, for the new
look restaurant and totally new
lounge area are absolute triumphs of
good taste and elegance.
Speaking of which, why not simply
risk dinner there (ooooh, how very
daring) and see for yourselves?
The Edge would heartily recommend: Crispy Pork Belly (with
baked beetroot, cider reduction) for
starters (£7.25). 8oz Fillet Steak
with fat chips, bistro salad and peppercorn sauce for mains (£21.95)
and, oooooh, it’s got to be Sticky
Toffee Pudding with clotted cream
and butterscotch sauce for dessert
(£6.00) all washed down with a delicious bottle of Malbec (£25).
And for special occasions (the ladies
in the photograph were celebrating a
40th birthday....for almost nine
hours!) why not really treat yourselves and stay over - yes, even
though you live locally - because it’s
honestly not a crime, you know?
Check out the newly revamped and
beautifully improved Pontlands Park
soon, readers. After all, it’s somewhere you’d probably be happy
enough to drive a hundred miles to.
West Hanningfield Road
Great Baddow
Chelmsford CM2 8HR
Tel: 01245 476 444
The restaurant oozes class and sophistication
22/10/2012
11:34
Page 23
Writtle Road Nursery
& The Secret Garden Tearooms
WELCOMES YOU THIS CHRISTMAS!
LO
CO GS
+s
o mAL
MO uch
RE
!
B
FA S
A
XM ES
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TR ifts
+g
AMAZING DISCOVERY
As regular readers will know, the
vast majority of The Edge’s time is
spent in and around Chelmsford.....
but every now and again I put my
explorative cap on and oh what an
eye-opener it was to discover the
amazing, the sensational H@ME
interiors (& exteriors) warehouse in
Bishops Stortford.
This is what it looks like (above)
and there’s always a huge turnover
of stock. On my last visit they had
some wickedly BIG (you’d require a
lifting device in order to take delivery) outdoor ‘heads’ (inc. Buddha,
Easter Island etc.) for any of you
with gardens large enough to truly
make a statement and do them
justice (circa £650).
They even sourced a Buddha canvas for us for £40 cheaper than
we’d seen on display in a store in
Colchester.
What’s more, they’ve got a really
cool open-plan cafe right at the
back where it looks as though they
do a mean ham, egg and chips!
I fell head over heels in love with a
genuine teak hippopotamus, but at
4m long and £1,500 Mrs Edge
wasn’t having any of that!
So do yourselves a favour and go
there soon. It’s just a few minutes
away from the Stansted Airport/M11
junction, on your right as you head
towards Bishops Stortford (look out
for the plastic cows outside)!
TEL: 01279 814 644
S N
V
CHINESE CUISINE
Our ‘perenially popular’
SHERRY & MINCE PIE BASH
takes place 30th Nov. - 2nd Dec.
We look forward to helping you choose
your Christmas Trees throughout
the festive period.
Why not pop in for a coffee & a snack
and a warm in front of our open fire?
Writtle Road Nursery
7 Writtle Road, Chelmsford, CM1 3BL. TEL: 01245 265655
www.writtleroadnursery.com
All You Can Eat!
NOVEMBER ONLY
served personally to your table!
SPECIAL PRICE
Sunday - Thursday:
Adult £13.90 Child £6.90*
Friday - Saturday:
Adult £15.90 Child £6.90*
* Children must be 10 years of age or under.
10% service charge is applicable with this offer.
With a choice of 25 starters including soup, crispy duck and spare ribs, plus a selection
of 75 main dishes including prawn, beef, chicken and much, much more!
136 MOULSHAM STREET,
CHELMSFORD.
TEL: 01245 290099
[email protected]
Page 23
22/10/2012
11:36
Page 24
BRILLIANT HEAD
WELL
DODGY
POSE
PAG ISLAND
I AM GUARANTEED
TO GET A GOOD
BOLLOCKING FOR
PUTTING THIS
PHOTO IN AS THE
WIFE’S NOT
DRESSED UP!
It’s funny who you bump into...
So your editor and his missus are minding their own business, walking
the coastal path in Dorset the other weekend. We’d just climbed 302
steps and come past the remote 13th century St. Aldhelm’s Chapel (you
can actually get married right on the cliff edge, readers, and then chuck
the missus off immediately afterwards) when we happened upon a band
of reprobates lying about eating bananas. I was just about to tell them
to f
*** off out of our way, when waddayaknow, one of them turns out to
be one of Chelmsford’s finest, in the shape of the bullet-headed former
Marine commando, Stuart Imhof (he’s Austrian, just like Arnie).
How about that then, eh? You’re 150 miles from home, yet a bloke
walking in the opposite direction is someone you last saw in The
Orange Tree in Lower Anchor Street about this time last year.
So anyway, me & Stu arranged to meet up in The Ale House a couple of
Fridays down the line where we both got right royally plastered.
Stuart even had some sort of a shooting contest to attend in Berkshire
(or somewhere) the following day and text me afterwards saying: I’ll
have to go out drinking with you more often - I was proper lethal today!
Ooooh, these ex-SAS type geezers are proper HARDCORE, readers.
WHERE???
That is the question I asked myself
when a mate of mine suggested
we go there on holiday, writes Joe
Bhangal...the man behind all of
those ‘50% OFF’ vouchers at
Back Inn Time, readers!
“Never heard of it,” I replied,
although I soon found out it was an
island off the coast of Croatia.
With a population of around 8,000
Pag literally soars to 60,000 souls
come the summer as revelers flock
to party and see some top class
DJs. Hailed as the NEW IBIZA,
Zrce Beach, Novalja, is also a lot
cheaper to reach than flying to
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Page 24
tourism there aren’t too many
hotels there yet, but there are
plenty of apartments. However,
being the snob that I am, I insisted
we stay at Hotel Luna, which was
but a 15-minute drive from all the
action. Be careful where the taxis
are concerned though as they can
be expensive - you definitely need
to haggle them down.
Staying at the Luna we got to know
some of the locals who worked
there (well, some of the girls who
worked there) and taking them out
with us definitely had its advantages as we couldn’t speak a word
of the local lingo!
On the subject of girls, one thing I
have to say is that the ladies on
Pag are all absolutely stunning.
The place is literally teeming with
beautiful women; Italian ladies, flirtatious French ladies, yet if anything, the local girls are even more
stunning, if that’s at all possible.
Being a bit of a Romeo at heart, I
was in seventh heaven.
There are two main clubs;
Aquarius and Papaya - plus a
beach bar named Kalypso. Recent
legislation changes mean that all
three are eligible to offer a party
atmosphere 24/7.
So if you’re thinking of going to
Ibiza next summer, or on one of
those wretched 18-30s holidays,
think again. Think Pag Island. And
if you don’t believe me, check out
Pag on You Tube.
P.S. Up until now, Pag has
been more famous for its
production of Paski sir, a distinctive cheese made from
the milk of the island’s
autochthonous (try saying
that after a night at the
Papaya Club) breed of
sheep, but somehow I think
that’s all about to change...
Editor’s Note: I feel really, really
OLD these days, readers!
E.E.
Pag Island 24/7 Party People
The Edge 01245 348256
22/10/2012
11:38
Page 25
EROTIC
Just outside Monte Carlo...
So what do we think of this then, folks?
Not exactly subtle, is it?
However, The Edge does think that Chelmsford needs brightening/livening
up a bit and it’s amazing what impact ‘big stuff’ like this can have.
This mags favourite are images projected onto buildings at night. Classy.
Really happy to see that CCC (Chelmsford City Council) have plans afoot
to improve the layout and alter the totally naff paving down our High Street
(you’ve seen the leaflets knocking about containing their vision, yes?).
However, they’re asking for our views too, readers, so let’s give ’em some!
Send your ideas to: [email protected]
And do try to be imaginative because we’re the ones who’ll have to poke
up with whatever changes are made for the next 20 years or so, so don’t
just sit on the fence. Take an interest in the city in which you live.
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Page 25
22/10/2012
BAD HABITS
It’s that time of year when nearly
everyone is saying: “Before you
know it, it’ll be Christmas!” and
being ultra annoying by telling you
that they’ve already done all of
their Christmas shopping, whilst
the rest of us are still getting over
the fact that another one of
England’s patented five minute
summers has just ended.
11:41
Page 26
ME & MY adamantium
skeleton
It literally took them all summer
to get those bikinis on.
The rapid approach of the silly season also means that the interminable round of office parties and
get-togethers with people who you
can’t be arsed to see the rest of
the year will soon begin and with it
a few weeks of eating and drinking
far too much than is good for us.
Which brings us nicely to that other
yuletide staple: the post-Christmas
diet.
I’ll hazard a guess that most of us
will at least make a cursory effort to
shift a few pounds worth of turkey
and Ferrero Rocher when January
rolls round and I’ll also go out on a
limb and say that most of us will
last about 2 weeks before collapsing in a blubbery mess and giving
up. We all know how hard it is to
change our habits and our routine,
particularly changing from something pleasurable like getting drunk
a lot and eating delicious fat laden
foods, to attending one of those
‘gym’ things on a regular basis, but
why is it so bloody difficult?
The Kingmeister reports
it doesn’t care if they’re good or
bad, it just cares that you have
them. OK, ‘lazy’ might be a trifle
harsh and it may be fairer to say
that your brain loves efficiency, and
habits are very efficient things.
A habit allows the brain to create
what are essentially shortcuts within it called ‘Hueristics’. These are
those automatic and unthinking
habits and responses we’ve all
built up over the course of our lives
and it allows the brain to stop wasting energy on sending information
down those synaptic pathways as
the hueristics just bypass them,
going from A - Z with zero effort
and allowing your brain to get back
to important matters, such as
deciding whether you want a
Chinese or Indian.
around 10 weeks. That’s 2 whole
months of you having to force your
brain to go the long way round and
2 whole months of the slightest
thing going wrong to put you right
back to square-one again.
The key to a habit is repetition and
if you get sick or injured 3 weeks
into your new regime and have to
have a week off, then that’s you
shit out of luck and starting all over
again from scratch.
Starting and maintaining a new set
of habits is truly an Herculean task
which involves an enormous effort
and act of will on your part and,
unfortunately, there’s not a lot of
willpower to go around. Scientists
have found that willpower is a finite
resource. While it varies from person to person, we basically all
have ‘X’ amount of willpower and
once it’s gone, then it’s gone until it
can recharge.
What’s even worse is that expending willpower to not do naughty
activity ‘A’ means that your likelihood of then immediately indulging
in naughty activity ‘B’ goes through
the roof.
“Why, Ambassador, you’re really
spoiling me tonight!”
The answer lies with that treacherous fleshy walnut that nestles
inside your skull; the good old
human brain. I’ve mentioned before
about what devious little shits our
brains are and, even when trying to
do something to improve your
health so you might actually live a
bit longer and look good in a pair of
Speedos, your brain is going to
gleefully trip you up every step of
the way.
Essentially, your brain is as lazy as
you are. All it has to do is chuck a
few electrical impulses down the
synaptic pathways, yet the little
bastard can’t even be bothered to
do that. Your brain loves habits and
Page 26
Your brain is essentially
Rab C. Nesbitt
Now, if you want to change your
habits, then you’re forcing your
brain to not only ignore these
handy, labour saving shortcuts, but
to build completely new ones, and
it will fight you every step of the
way. This doesn’t just mean that
getting on that treadmill for a few
hours a week will be exhausting, it
means that even thinking about it
and making the decision will tire
you out as well. Yes, seriously.
The time it takes to build a new
habit varies from person to person
but, on average, they clock it in at
“After a whole 10 minutes on
the treadmill, bugger, I think I
deserve this.”
Put simply, your brain tells you that
if you’ve been ‘good’, then you
deserve a reward and these
rewards are usually the complete
antithesis of the ‘good’ behaviour
you’ve just displayed.
I see myself doing this pretty much
all of the time. On a good day, I’ll
have a quick workout before I go
into the office. I’ll eat well and then
have another workout when I get
home again. Don’t get me wrong,
I’m not doing anything major, just
20 to 30 minutes each time (when I
can be arsed), but even this is
enough to start me thinking:
“You’ve been good today, Kingpin,
so get yourself down to the pub
and have a couple of pints. After
all, you deserve it!”
I know that having that couple of
(OK, let’s make it 3 or 4) pints will
not only negate what exercise I’ve
already done, but also put me into
negative equity in the lard stakes,
but more often than not, I’ll go
ahead and do it anyway.
Some people advocate the positive
visualisation of your goals, meaning that today your see yourself as
Danny DeVito and visualise yourself 12 months down the line as
Brad Pitt. While the jury is out on
whether this actually works or not,
unfortunately, the science is
against it.
CHILLI BALL-BAG
BONANZA
I thought I’d share with you all an unfortunate incident that occurred at the
weekend. Not so much because it was
funny, but at the reaction I received
from some people regarding the cure I
used for my self-inflicted injury.
The weekend was a quiet one and seeing as I was staying in and had plenty
of free time, I decided to cook myself a
curry and none of that pre-made sauce
tomfoolery either. It was all hand-made
from start to finish and it was, to quote
the great philosopher Jeanette Krankie,
Fan-Dabby-Dozy.
Just as well, as it turns out, as an
unfortunate incident occurred involving
freshly chopped chillies, unwashed
hands and the pressing need for a
slash. It was, to put it mildly, agonising.
My plums became two flaming spheres
of agony and I’ll admit to spending a
panicked minute or two with my trolleys
off in the lounge doing what looked like
some sort of tribal dance. Luckily, I’m
an educated man, so I knew just what
to do. I promptly filled a bowl with milk
and immediately dunked my glowing
clackers into the soothing, ice cold
moo-juice.
I’ll grant you it’s not the most dignified
position I’ve ever been in, but I was
past caring at that point and, more
importantly, it worked. What surprised
me was the amount of people who
reacted with astonishment when I
informed them how the case of my
burning ball-bag was solved. “Why didn’t you just wash them?” they asked.
My reply was that Capsaicin (which
makes chillies hot) doesn’t dissolve in
water, but does in milk. Yet this was
met with further incredulity.
I was surprised to find that most people
seemed to be happier trying something
that would never work to the actual
remedy for the affliction. To be sure, a
shower is a lot more dignified than
squatting on your living-room floor teabagging a bowl of milk, but if it doesn’t
work, then what’s the point? By all
means call me an idiot for forgetting I’d
just been chopping chillies before manhandling myself, but not because I
know how to sort the problem out and
you don’t.
I accidentally did this to an ex-girlfriend
once, after cooking her a nice meal and
then going for some sexy-funtimes.
Suffice to say there were no more sexyfuntimes after that, or any more relationship for that matter.
The karmic wheel may turn slowly, but it
looks like it does turn.
The Edge 01245 348256
22/10/2012
11:47
Page 27
SPORTING CHANCE
kind of spare real estate back home.
So as told in the first two missives from 42nd
and 10th, I’ve got an apartment and furnished
it. Time to enjoy New York for all it has to
offer. And, let me tell you, it has a heck of a
lot to proffer - at a price of course. If you are a
culture junkie and can’t get enough museums
and galleries, they’re all here. Like a spit and
sawdust ale house? Got a few of them. Fancy
a bit of jazz in basement clubs the like of
which don’t exist in London anymore? Yup,
got some of those too.
All of the above might find their way into
future columns - except for the museums, that
is. Oh, and the ale houses. But this month
we’ll take a look at sport in America. Now,
don’t panic, there will be no play-by-play dissection of the Jets win over the Bills that
made them one and oh for the season, as
they say in these parts. Nor will the Yankees
pinch-hitter even get a mention. No, it’s the
very interesting differences between the attitude to watching sport over here as opposed
to over there, where you are, that we’ll focus
the attention on.
Let’s start with the pre-game. An English football or rugby match is very often started, as
far as the spectators are concerned, in the
pub. It’s part of the ritual that you meet your
mates in a local hostelry and discuss all
you’re hoping to see. In the US, this does not
happen, at least not on the scale it does in
the UK. The reason is that very often spectating at a sports event over here is a family
affair, especially the baseball. Mom and Pop
and the kids go to the ball game as a nice
day out, and with the hope that the hometeam wins - although the overriding impression is that the result doesn’t much matter.
As I hinted back there a bit, by far the biggest
difference between the two country’s attitude
to sport watching is the level of intensity that
spectators take to the game. Over here,
watching sport is very much part of the entertainment industry. People will leave the game
and go out the back to buy more food or drink
oblivious to what’s happening on the field.
That’s just unthinkable in the UK, even at a
cricket match, where the action goes on all
day. By and large, visits to the gents, or to
buy another beer, are timed to fit between the
overs.
This attitude is backed up by the facilities on
offer. Yes, you can buy beer in the stadiums
and Premier League fans take note, you can
even, shock horror, take it to your seat. Apart
from the beer bars, there are just so many
candy (sweets) stalls and food booths. What
there isn’t, however, is the bone crushing
scramble to get served that is the norm at, for
example, White Hart Lane, where the staff
always seem a bit surprised there’s a rush at
half-time. There are enough places to buy
refreshments and merchandise, properly
spaced out and with well trained staff, that
parents can happily let little Peggy-Su and
Randy Jr go off to buy stuff on their own.
Clearly physical space is a factor here. In the
UK, stadiums are often crammed into cities
with all the restrictions that entails. The New
York Jets and the Giants share a stadium in
Noo Joysey. It’s only about five miles from
Manhattan as the crow flies, but as it sits in
wasteland, the car parks alone are the size of
Essex. You just don’t have the luxury of that
Another big thing here is the giveaways.
Many a time you’ll turn up at a game and be
given a team shirt (horrible polyester, but hey)
or a home team bar towel, cap, whatever. It’s
all part of the general sell to get bums on
seats and give everyone a positive experience that, as I said earlier, doesn’t have to
rely entirely on the result for your team.
Having said all those positive things about
watching sport over here, I do miss the
passion that’s involved in a Premier League
game. You get some fanatics at the American
Football who will paint their faces and the like,
but by and large that emotional power is
missing in the stands.
Such is the general lack of intensity here, I
even yearn for the moronic thug with the
veins bulging out of his hate filled face, shouting his obscenities at the ref, his own team.....
Er, actually, no, on second thoughts, I don’t.
He can stay at West Ham.
Have a great day.
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The Edge 077 646 797 44
Page 27
22/10/2012
12:06
Page 28
theEDGE
review
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Page 28
One thing’s for sure, Denzel (what a great name) ought to play a baddie far
more often as he is simply one baaaad assed mother
**** er in Safe House.
Junior CIA agent Bobby Davro (Ryan Reynolds) is bored shitless with his
safe house station in Cape Town, where seemingly nothing ever happens.
Cue Tobin Frost (which is almost as good a name as Denzel Washington,
only he gets even cooler when you realise his middle name is Hayes), a
renegade CIA operative who’s spent the past decade doing really naughty,
treasonous things.
Thing is, this movie is totally watchable (it is) as opposed to being totally
memorable (it isn’t). It’s simply a ‘safe
bet’ for a mid-week evening when you
simply feel like switching off, sprawling
out on the couch and letting it all wash
over you, which is sometimes no bad
thing.
“There are far too many muscly, gun-toting bad guys having bloody brawls,” is
Ryan Reynolds ought to consider
one criticism The Edge read on Rotten
the advertising opportiunities his
Tomatoes. Meanwhile, this is another:
forehead could offer him...
“A frenetic action thriller whose chases,
gunplay and hand-to-hand combat scenes flash by in such a blur that the
viewer barely has time to register the plot’s shortcomings.”
So basically, readers, the overall verdict is that Safe House is somewhat thin
on plot, but high on action.
Thing is, I so very often hire out movies that never even see The Edge’s
Review section, simply because I think it’s a travesty they were ever made in
the first place, whereas the likes of Safe House quite simply ‘do the job’.
It’s like what Russell Crowe said in Gladiator: “Are you not entertained?”
All DVD’s hired from Blockbuster on Springfield Road.
Tel. Chelmsford 269767
The Edge 01245 348256
22/10/2012
12:15
Page 29
DITCHBURN
There’s a bloke who The Edge
sometimes attends DNA Boot
Camp sessions with called Steve
Ditchburn and when he told me he
was a copper, well, my mind
went into overdrive.
DITCHBURN: it’s a bloody TV
series in the making, surely?
The lead character is either a maverick detective (DCI Ditchburn has
a certain ring to it) or a Private Eye
who’s clearly brilliant, but flawed
(drink problem, late night Chinese
take-aways, stomach ulcer, untidy
flat, failed marriage (twice), favours
prostitutes and whisky, smokes 40
B&H a day etc. etc. etc.).
Sorry, Steve lad, but your involvement stops with your surname as
there’s no way you can play the
lead role - not driving an Audi A3 at
any rate. No, The Edge envisages
Ditchburn driving a car more like
The Green Hornet’s.
Has he got a glass eye? Does he
look scary, like Ed Harris did in
A History of Violence?
Hmmmm, maybe not as The Edge
sees DITCHBURN going out on
prime-time TV at 9:00pm.
Love the trilby and the overcoat
though, and maybe a bit of an egg
stain down one of his lapels.
Wears his clobber 24/7 and never
takes a day off, not even on
Christmas Day.
Definitely licensed to carry a
firearm and his only hobby is guns.
Hangs out in the seamier side of
Manchester, or possibly
Wolverhampton - yeah, we haven’t
had a copper or a Private Dick with
a Midlands accent for a while.
Lights. Camera. Action...
A better way to
divorce?
If you are facing a breakdown of your relationship, the things that you may
dread the most are how you can sort out the finances; the house; the children. The thought of arguing and going to court is both frightening and
expensive. There is, however, another way.
Collaborative Family Law is a process where you and your spouse have
your own solicitor, but instead of being adversarial, you work together to
find the right solutions to your problems. You agree that you will not resort
to court proceedings and by having a series of meetings you can reach
agreement on all of the things that matter to you. These can be things that
the court can not help you with because of the way the traditional court
system operates.
You set the pace of the process, you set the agenda, and you make the
decisions. Your lives are not left in the hands of the courts or the judges.
At a time when the court system is becoming even more pressured due to
cut backs, the collaborative process can offer a far quicker resolution.
Many people are finding the collaborative process a better way to divorce
and come away feeling satisfied that they have aired their views and
reached an agreement that will work. Children have especially benefited
from their parents dealing with their divorce in a collaborative way as they
see their parents working together rather than arguing about them.
Collaborative Family lawyers are trained to deal with separation in the
collaborative way and are experienced family lawyers committed to
providing a professional service to their clients. Most collaborative lawyers
will offer a free chat about collaborative law to see if it would suit you.
For more information,
contact Teresa Foss on 01245 349696,
email: [email protected]
or visit www.thblegal.com.
[email protected]
Page 29
22/10/2012
12:12
Page 30
TOTALLY TRACIE
JUMPING JACKS
I am pleased to say I am writing my
column 7lb lighter and a whole 7.5
inches less than I was last month,
which is truly a miracle!
In just 3 weeks I have managed to
lose more weight than I have done in
the past 20 years.
I’ve never been one for exercise. I
have always followed the dieting
mantra of Zsa Zsa Gabor: ”If we
women were meant to exercise, God
would have put diamonds on the
floor.” However, I had noticed my
tummy was starting to get a bit too
bloated for comfort and my thighs a
bit on the wobbly side, not to mention
a ‘muffin top’ that was threatening to
become a cream sponge.
I’ve pretty much dieted all of my life,
following one fad diet after another,
without ever achieving very much.
So in one of my rasher moments,
when I saw an advert for ‘Fat Loss
Boot Camp Essex’ - which guaranteed real results within 28 days (i.e.
dropping a dress size) - I decided I’d
go along and give it a go. It was
there that I met Vicky Hitchens who
has devised the Camps based on her
very own experience.
I have to admit that I was not really
sure I would take the plunge. I really
didn’t think I liked exercising at all, so
I made sure I took my ’phone with me
to the first session, just in case it got
a bit too much for me and I could
pretend I’d had an urgent call and
had to sneak away sharpish! But how
surprised was I?
From the very first lesson it was totally great and I made lots of new
friends who were also starting out, so
we all just pitched in together. Make
no mistake, the first session was
tough, but after managing to get
through it, I began to love it and now
I go 3 times a week for 45 minutes
per session, and after each one I
really do feel on top of the world.
Waiting for me every morning is also
a motivational email that helps spur
me on for the remainder of the day
and if I ever have any questions, I
can always rely on Vicky (or one of
her team) to get back to me - usually
within the hour.
After 3 weeks I even felt confident
enough to get on the scales and take
a sneaky peek and was overjoyed to
discover that I had lost 7lb. My stomach is now as flat as a pancake and I
can crack walnuts with my thighs!
I honestly can’t believe it myself, truth
be told. What’s more, I am now eating more healthily than ever before
Page 30
and I have stacks and stacks of energy. These days I just wake up raring
to go! What’s more, most surprisingly,
I am not craving processed or sugary
foods, which has always been my
downfall in the past.
What’s impressed me the most is the
level of support I’ve been given to
achieve my goals. Vicky has spent
years perfecting her Boot Camp diet
and exercise programme, which raises the metabolism to burn fat even
when you’re not exercising. She told
me that even she had struggled to
get the body she wanted, yet looking
at her today, believe me, her methods really do work.
So if you are currently struggling like
I was, yet want to look amazing in a
little black dress this Christmas, then
why not give Vicky’s Boot Camp a
go? Everyone starts at the bottom,
but you will be made to feel really,
really welcome. What’s more, it’s a
truly great place to meet new people
and have some fun. So don’t sit there
a moment longer moaning about the
body you’ve always wanted - get out
there and make it happen!
Give Vicky Hitchens a call on 07779
646 945 or check out her website:
fatlossbootcampessex.co.uk which
shows before and after pictures of
people, including Vicky, who have
changed their bodies in just 28 days!
What’s more, mention The Edge and
she’ll give you a 10% discount to
boot. How good is that? Believe me,
if I can do it, so can you!
DRESS ME UP
An astounding little survey came to
my attention recently. Apparently, two
thirds of men ‘rely on their wife/partner to ‘choose their clothes for them’.
Half of the men surveyed admitted to
also being helped physically to get
dressed by their partners.
When I first read this, my reaction
was: “Get out of here. Shuuuut up!”
Can this really be true? If so, I am
thoroughly disappointed in us
women. Well, in half of us women,
whilst the other half can have a stick
of Twix and a merit badge.
So I decided to ring my very feminist
and feisty friend Laura, who unbelievably confessed that even she lays out
her husband’s clothes for work every
morning. She said she doesn’t do it
to make his life easier, or to be dominant in the relationship, but simply
because, left to his own devices, he
would end up looking like something
thrown together from the last decade
and she would far rather step out of
the house with a man who at least
looks like he possesses a modicum
of style.
Mind you, my friend also confessed
that she has had one or two mishaps.
Having seen a lovely cream chunky
cardigan on David Beckham, she
decided to style her husband in
exactly the same way. But whereas
Becks looked a complete dreamboat
in his, she says her hubby looked like
a cross between Val Doonican and a
librarian who’d just been made
redundant.
I had to laugh, but I also have to confess to having enough trouble getting
myself dressed in the morning - so I’d
like to think I’ve got a man with
enough style to dress himself every
day. Therefore, I am siding firmly
with the half side of women who don’t
have to dress their men.
[email protected]
22/10/2012
13:24
Page 31
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