Monthly Archives

February 2007


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Unsurprisingly, this bit of the site is all about me, Ben Aston. And if you’re here by accident, now is probably a good time to leave. This is this Wild West of the interwebsuperhighway. is a bit like a pretentious art exhibition; there’s lots of things to look at, but there seems to be no real value to any of it. And that’s exactly the point. I can only recommend donning your best ‘cultured’ hat and and inquisitively rummaging through the site, as if you were in a giant jumble sale. Imagine you are examining something that has some intrinsic merit. It does.

Additionally, this site performs an important role keeping hoi polloi updated with all the latest ‘Ben Aston’ developments. Informative and amusing it may be, thought provoking – not really; serious definitely not. Please peruse this site with chips and a large pinch of salt.

So if you have managed to make it down this far, you must be genuinely interested in the man behind the silly and pretentious signature at the top of the page. So here it is…

I’m 25, and live in the wild west of London, with my lovely wife Rebecca. After just a year of marriage we’ve become proud parents of Winston, who is a fish. I work for Dare Digital, an interactive marketing agency, as a Producer. Following a brief stint on the Woolworths account, keeping an eye on Wooly and Worth, I’m now working on the Sony account working on a few projects that made it past concepting, including Reader, Rolly and the Walkman Project.

Life for me began in the Shire. I’m a Gloucester lad, born and bred; from a 6-man family which once resided in Tuffley, suburbanshire. My younger brothers were lucky enough to have me develop various training schools for them, including sword fighting and weapons training (obviously with cap guns). I also taught them a wide variety of martial arts including Karate and Judo from an assortment of teach yourself martial art books. Steve-fun has spent far too much time travelling around, but is now in Nigeria, ostensibly test soil and banana combo’s but it would come as no great surprise to find he’s probably also involved in some enormous banana laundering scam. Joe, the youngest also known as ‘Fogal Genius’ spends a lot of time on mmmputers and has finally found a good excuse for this, as he’s working for Logica, being clever and also as a part time soldier, being the best.. My older sister Abi, (who you’ll probably know from The Times), is a community physiotherapist working in London town. Abi has always given the impression of being well behaved which unfortunately meant that conversely, I gave the impression of being naughty. I probably was.

My education began at the much lauded Treetops Nursery, where I was quickly identified as being particularly mal-coordinated. My primary career started at Harewood but I soon found myself in an exciting experiment in home schooling by my parents, Jonathan and Sarah who later went on to launch, School of the Lion.

A little later, I landed at St Peters R.C. High School where I had a lot of fun and somehow managed to get a few A Levels. After taking a gap year working for Dstl in Strategic Analysis as a web developer, I realised that computer science was probably too ambitious, as I couldn’t do the maths.

In the summer of 2002 I became an undergraduate of Politics and International Relations at Sussex University in Brighton. Three years later, after writing a few contentious essays, I discovered I had graduated. Along the way, I’d also spent a semester in Hong Kong where I unintentionally had picked up a Canadian girlfriend.

One thing led to another and a year or so after Rebecca moved to England, I’d been married not just once (in Canada) but also in England (for good measure). As it happens, it was even to the same wife. We began our married life honeymooning in Mexico but returned to Blighty to Londinium where, after a lengthy search, we found a place of our own.

I love Jesus.

Lost and £ound

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Of late, I’ve been a bit distracted. I’m going to have to blame it on being ill. My illness might be something to do with looking for a house, I’m not too sure.

So imagine my suprise (actually, now that I’ve prewarned you, it won’t be so much of a suprise) when I got a phone call from my dear friends at egg telling me that I’d lost my wallet.

I assured him I hadn’t lost my wallet at all. I knew it was safely tucked away in my coat. Then I realised he was right, I had lost my wallet. Kerfuffle. He kindly told me that my wallet had been found and I could find it at Eastern station. But where is Eastern station I asked? Eggy had no idea, he just knew it was there.

Any learned Londoner will tell you there is no such thing as Eastern Station. So being the intelligent person that I am, I deduced that it must be at Euston station, a station sounding a bit like Eastern, but clearly being very different.

And there it was, my beloved was at the lost property counter, waiting for me patiently, like a well trained pup. However, just as I was about to be terribly thankful, I discovered that it was a big trick. They wouldn’t give me back my wallet until I’d paid three pounds. How rude I thought – surely this is blackmail – you can have your wallet back, the wallet that is yours and we know is yours, if you give us three pounds.

Apparently it was ok though, it was written on a sign on the wall – three pounds. So there it was, I paid three pounds for the return of my wallet and the person who returned it didn’t even get a penny.

Until they get to heaven.

To add to the list of lost and found. I lost my wedding ring. But now, it is found. Amazing Grace!


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If I was really genuinely homeless, that would be a very sad situation indeed. I’m just one step away though, really homeless, but without the genuine bit.

Today we made a ‘best and final sealed bid’ for a property in Paradise Road. Paradise isn’t the place where we’ll be spending eternity, or at least the next few years because we were outbid and pipped to the post by a small matter of 5k. I’m not sure it was really worth the extra 5k but in a few months time, when we’re still looking, it may well be.

Quandry indeed. At least we’ve still got somewhere to live, even if it isn’t so much of a home. The future is of course bright, and very orange as we’ve got a few viewings lined up for the weekend with one of our favourite estate agents – Sonia from Movingspace. She’s what you might call ‘edgy’, and is certainly a refreshing change from Foxtons shmooze with her raw analysis of the properties we were surveying. Sonia’s the person to know.

The Pursuit of Happyness

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In my juvenile arrogance I thought that perhaps the cinemas had spelt happiness incorrectly. They hadn’t and it was entirely deliberate. Was it really necessary though? Maybe.