Five pretentious house names that mark you out as a twat

DO you have the urge to give your very ordinary home a wanky name? Here are some tried-and-tested examples for inspiration.

Primrose Cottage

Or anything incredibly twee. Names like ‘Primrose Cottage’ are particularly inappropriate for identikit houses on suburban estates. And even worse if you live in a grim high-crime area where you know the local drug dealers by name. Also consider ‘Dunroamin’, just for the lack of originality.

Avalon

A name steeped in Arthurian legend and shrouded in mystery. The main mystery being, why is it the name of a tiny bungalow just outside Crewe? When the postman sees ‘Avalon’ on a letter he expects an imposing country pile. What he actually gets is instant proof you’re deeply pretentious.

Meadow View, Fairview, and similar

Except it isn’t, is it? Using a rustic house name is fine if you live in the countryside or in an episode of Midsomer Murders. But Meadow View is pushing it. Especially when you throw open your curtains each morning to reveal you live opposite a tarmac plant, a bus station or an abattoir.

The Old Post Office

Ingratiate yourself with any isolated village by buying their Post Office, closing it down and renovating it into a luxury four-bedroom home. Locals will hate you for taking over their vital link to the outside world so they don’t have to drive 11 miles for a morning paper, but it’s a small price to pay for a lovely, slate house sign hung near your front door.

Xanadu

Well done you! You’ve read a poem or half-watched Citizen Kane. And your house isn’t a lavish palace, it’s a semi, so all your neighbours now have you down as an ostentatious ballbag. You might think you’re not getting many Christmas cards because it’s hard to spell. It’s not. All your friends have disowned you.

 

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16 places you'll be allowed to go with a vaccine passport

BORIS Johnson has denied any decision has been made on vaccine passports, which means they are a nailed-on certainty. But where will they allow you to go? 

1: The pub, where you will join fellow passport holders in a boozy, Covid- and child-free heaven that you will refuse to ever leave

2: A restaurant, where the sheer joy of some other bastard cooking for you will see you order a starter, a main, another starter, another main, a dessert, and f**k it, another starter

3: A football stadium, which will once again echo with boring and unpleasant chants about players who preferred it quiet so they could concentrate

4: The theatre, where you will reflect that you hadn’t really missed it and telly is better

5: A gig, where you will be so excited you’ll get shitfaced during the support act and pass out before the band and it’ll still be the best night you’ve had in a year

6: A music festival, where you will consume a year’s worth of drugs watching an utterly haphazard, pieced-together line-up and have the best time of your life

7: A care home, where you will strangely do high-fives with your gran

8: A hospital’s Covid ward, because why not? 

9: A shopping centre in a Midlands town because now nothing can hurt you, not even a knackering, boring trudge round the shops and pensioners on mobility scooters

10: A packed lift in said shopping centre, where you admit that you’re running out of new places to go now

11: Your next-door neighbour’s front room whether they want you to or not, where you can mock them for not having a passport and stay as long as you like and there’s nothing they can do about it, probably

12: Wales, if you’re so inclined

13: Scotland, unless the SNP gets really f**ked off and builds a wall around it

14: Barnard Castle, to see what all the fuss is about

15: Whichever countries will have us and which we’re desperate enough to keep doing business with, so basically Dubai, or Saudi Arabia for a holiday that’s a bit different

16: The office. Shit. Oh f**king hell. You wish you hadn’t got a passport now.