Let’s look at the evidence:
– It cost £400,000 (at which point anyone who doesn’t live on that funny little rock between Scotland and Iceland [or is it Norway?] or in Wales gasps, ‘That won’t even buy me a two-bedder where I live!’, slips into a deep depression, considers moving to Adelaide where you can get five beds and a pool for the price of a studio flat in Islington, then thinks better of it.)
– It’s in Wales.
– Bearing in mind who bought it, it actually looks rather, you know, nice. Modernist flourishes here and there. How modern.
– Picture’s a bit grainy.
Who could it be? Who? Who? Who-who-who-who? Who?
It’s this personage off-of fame, ladies, ladies and ladies….
The unfortunately titled Paul Potts! Off-of erstwhile medieval teeth before he got them done! Hooray! Who we interviewed and he was an arrogant twat! Hooray!
That was fun, non? Apparently, Paul Potts has sold a lot of records. He got to No. 1 – singing all the classical songs you never need to hear again – in 38 countries. True story.