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amey
hippy
your landlords will be a nice older couple that complain about the noise and why you haven't trimmed the hedge or maintain the garden to their exacting standards.
when you buy your family home, at the age of 27, your landlords will help you move, and they'll give you a heartwarming goodbye card and then offer you advice on how to get around the planning issues and subsidence problems you get when living in that precious little cottage that seemed so appealing those short years ago.
when you move in, your new neighbours will bring you tea and biscuits and invite you round for dinner 'since you must be tired' and will then proceed to offend you with their tales of chasing black people out of the local shop and shooting at the pikies carts for fun.
you can ask your friends if they want to go for a pint tonight, but because it now takes you two hours to get to the city you won't bother. any local pints have to be had with planning about who will drive and who will drink because the nearest pub is 5 miles away and you've stopped cycling because of the hills
you can own a car, park it on your own driveway, and use it to get around because you have to.
if you choose to you can wheel your bikes straight into your garage, rather than carrying them up an ever-narrowing pissy stairwell where they will be eaten by rats, flooded or damaged by the neighbour when he tries to drive home drunk from the pub in his combine harvester
you can go mountain-biking without having to get the train first but you won't because all your life is dominated by trying to repair that fucking thatched roof...
when your shopping bag breaks and your oranges roll down the street, a tractor will run most of them over and the remaining are so covered in animal shit you don't bother collecting them. Old ladies will be muttering about immigrants while mocking the 'newbies' shopping bag incompetence, loudly so you can hear, obviously.
your commute will be less than half an hour, well it would be, if you could just find a job.
#ftfy
;-)