Beeny means business


I spotted a profiling article of the woman known as Sarah Beeny in this morning’s guardian online. I’ve long been a fan; so much so that that Ms 73man once gave me a birthday present of a bookmark made entirely from pictures of the good Sarah. While Property Ladder is not compulsive viewing now, I think that Ms 73man believes it is good for me to have interests that are ultimately unattainable.

In the article online here, Beeny reveals a lot more about her personal life than I’ve been able to reconstruct from the thousands of Google searches I have poured over voraciously in search of the candid shot of her climbing out of a window during one of the shows she has presented. I know that she’s married and in this article describes how lucky she is:

I have a nice husband, a nice family, and my own business.

Nice husband? I’m in! Biscuits are nice, a good salsa sauce from Tesco can be nice but a nice husband?! As to her career on television to date sultry-voiced Sarah (35) confides in the 2.4 million people with access to this article that:

being on television gets you more good-looking points. If you’re a four out of 10 in real life, you get an extra couple of points just by being on telly and end up as a six.

You put her name into Google and you’ll see what the suburban man makes of this. Tissue? I nearly ran out. As for her family life Sarah states “I want 10 kids but my husband is determinedly keeping his pants on.” Perhaps she should set up another site for angrily-frustrated 30-something middle-class men with a penchant for husky voices to help her out in this regard? It seems that Sarah’s been keeping a close eye on the Irish scene too because

Beeny points the blame at the [UK] government, which she says has viewed the property boom – particularly the buy-to-let market – as some kind of solution to the impending pensions crisis.

For too long now people here have been seeing their nest egg derived from the semi-d in Knocklyon and a Courttown whitewashed bungalow. It will end in tears you know, much like not being able to answer the question – why couldn’t I have been born on the Hampshire / Berkshire border area in 1972?

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