Why Foxy loves living La Dolce Vita in Sunny Sussex

foxy 414Ouch, ouch and triple ouch. Yep, you guessed it Foxy fans, I’m not feeling myself today (unlike you blokes, who I know feel yourselves 24/7. In fact my very own Desperate Dan – the Southern Softie who’s hard in all the right places – swears by it).

No folks, it’s the end of a very long BIRTHDAY WEEK, which culminated in last night’s trip to the Indian Cottage Tandoori, of course, where proprietor Abdul serves the best Chicken Sagg Balti and Chips in town, washed down by flagons of Mateus Rosé. Classy bird, me.

Now, I do feel slightly guilty, especially as all my friends and family up North are now in Tier 3 Lockdown hell, unable to visit anyone or even leave the area, but I guess that’s one of the few advantages of living La Dolce Vita in Sunny Sussex, other than you don’t have to wear a vest all year round.

The rents may be extortionate, ale might cost an arm and a leg, and pub grub can be highway robbery but we don’t have much Covid – YET.

I also have the advantage of having not one but TWO great bosses (told you I wasn’t feeling quite right) and neither of them has ever flashed their arse at me on a Zoom call (more’s the pity).

Others it seems aren’t quite so lucky and, according to a new study from our friends at TheKnowledgeAcademy.com at least, for some people just a few words from their boss can make their heart rate go off the scale.

In fact, on average, the phrase “Let’s have a chat” raised respondents’ heart rate to 147 BPM – an 84% increase to the average resting heart rate of 80 BPM. In second and third place are the phrases “Would you be able to do a presentation for us?” and “Can you share your findings in today’s meeting?” ratcheting heart rates up to an average 143 BPM and 138 BPM, respectively.

Meanwhile, “Just make it happen”, “Have you seen that urgent email?”, “It’s come to my attention…”, and “Can I talk to you about what you’re wearing?” all saw the BPMs rocket, too.

To be fair, I reckon the boot is firmly on the other foot round here. Apparently, just whispering the words “isn’t it about time I had a pay review” is enough to send McFatty and McFattier – obviously not the fittest of specimens – into acute myocardial infarction.

Ah well, I might just keep my powder dry on that one and, for now at least, my lips are sealed. After all, if they both snuff it, I’ll have to go back to the Land of the Lard for good and I don’t think you can even get Mateus Rosé up there…

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