A new council tax-evaluation policy wants to charge us more if we live in a nice area. That ought to mean discounts for those of us who live in rough areas.
There is a huge council house in our street. The extended family is run by a grumpy old woman with a pack of fierce dogs. Her car isn't taxed or insured and doesn't even have a number plate, but the police still do nothing.
Her bad-tempered old man is notorious for racist comments. A shopkeeper blames him for ordering the murder of his son and his son's girl-friend, but nothing has been proved.
All their kids have broken marriages except the youngest, who everyone thought was gay.
Two grandsons are meant to be in the Army but are always out partying in nightclubs. They are out of control.
I hate living near Windsor Castle
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