Dear Mr. Suggs

Re: Our House

I recently heard your ‘Nutty Smash’ on a particularly deceitful episode of ‘Location Location Location”, wherein Katie Allsopp attempted to lure a ‘professional couple’ to bid upon a tithe barn conversion in Berkshire, which she clearly referred to as being a ‘stone’s throw’ from their pied-a-terre in Shoreditch. As your Two Tone group’s jaunty ska tune played in the background, I was incredulous at the hyperbolic scale of the ebullient presenter’s falsehood, especially after a Bing Maps “get directions” simulation clearly exposed London’s East End to be no less than 27.4 miles from the afore-mentioned county’s nearmost border (although, given that one must question whether Slough boasts a farm, the range is likely to be greater). The world javelin record (held by Uwe Hohn), of 104.8 metres, equivalent to 343.83 feet, is deficient of this distance by 27.33 miles, therefore to expect even an uneducated peak-time audience to accept that the hurling of an unbalanced and blatantly non-aerodymamic small fragment of rock, whether under or overarm, could exceed this current record is frankly an insult to the viewing publics’ collective intelligence.

Ironically, the thrice repeated noun which constitutes the title of the misleading ‘reality TV show’ is also the central theme of the mild grievances I hold against your good self, Mr. Suggs.

You repeatedly assert, within the ‘catchy hookline’of your ‘hit’, that your house is in the middle of your street, however this claim must be challenged on several grounds.

If indeed the communal dwelling is situated at the centre of a paved thoroughfare, it would not simply be an antagonistic traffic hazard, but more likely its placement would prevent access to either termini of said urban byway from respective and opposing would-be entry points. To illustrate by way of your extensive discography, the orientation of your abode would present a significant hindrance to motorists who as a result would most likely not like driving in their cars within its proximity and perhaps even brand it the house of no fun, in recognition of its irrefutable status as the catalyst of a significantly less than enjoyable journeying experience. Even were the habitation to be constructed upon a roundabout, by its very definition the circular junction acts as the obstacle between a minimum of two otherwise intersecting streets, one step beyond the potential accuracy of your ‘catchy’ chorus, which emphatically refers to street (singular).

With the above findings to the fore it is not unreasonable to suggest that the lyrical content of the recently Buckingham Palace rooftop-renditioned ‘pop tune’ be factually re-addressed via a corrective re-recording sympathetic to the sentiment of a property centrally stationed at the edge of a street, which observation conveniently leads me to my secondary argument.

Not being privy to the conveyancing or fiscal arrangements relating to the purchase of your allegedly road straddling house, I will as a sound and reasonable correspondent accept in good faith your assertion that you possess an equity share in the property of 100%, devoid of the asset impedences presented by an outstanding mortgage or second charge(s) secured against it. However, even without access to the Title Deeds pertaining to the address in question, I can confidently inform you that while your ownership of it may be outright, you most certainly do not have a claim to the residential lane in which its foundations rest, or, to put it bluntly, your house is most certainly not in the middle of "your" street. A merely cursory perusal of the Land Registry documentation relevant to the elongated public terrain will confirm that its pavement, street lighting and drainage, as well as many other aspects of the municipal landscape undetailed within this missive, are in fact within the dominion of whichever Local Authority governs the borough in which it was built. At best, as a council tax payer, I regret to inform you that you are meagrely permitted to lay claim to a percentage based share of the street, dependent upon the volume of bricks and mortar collateral that you have procured within it. In short, even were all residences adjacent to both kerbs to belong to you and be under your jurisdiction, it would still not be "your" street.

I am sorry to be the bearer of such disappointing news, Mr. Suggs, and by way of recompense would like to invite you and your ska band to Philpott Place for a consolatory game of Monopoly, whereupon you can at least pretend to own entire streets, and quite famous ones at that, as well as railway stations and major utilities, if so desired. Should all seven of you expect to be in attendance please let us know as soon as possible in order that we may alert our neighbours Wilf and Olive Turnbull, from whom we will need to borrow the necessary amount of extra chairs. I will ensure that my wife Jean makes one of her famed Battenberg cakes especially for the occasion, and please be assured that should any of you ‘Nutty Boys’ actually suffer an allergy to nuts, the almond element integral to the treat’s distinctive flavour is technically a drupe We look forward to hearing from you at your earliest convenience

Yours sincerely

Derek Philpott

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