You probably think that all this blogging business is rather fancy schmancy. That it’s all maverick marketers operating from rather plush offices with Wi-Fi access coming out of their ears. And you probably think, by association, that I fit neatly into that little picture.

If only.

You’ll be awfully pleased to know that I’m currently writing this from inside the electricity cupboard of an old Victorian foundry in some rundown part of East Lancashire. Not only that, but my blogging attire isn’t exactly booted and suited. It tends to consist of three fleeces, a jumper and a donkey jacket – and that’s just in the summer. I look more like Darth Vader when they took his helmet off than Mr. Business Blogger UK. Can I feel the force? I can’t even feel my fingers.

With us also being in a decrepit old foundry, not too far away from a river, we also tend to suffer from a bit of a vermin problem once in a while. Only the other week I was merrily tapping away at my keyboard when I heard a scratching and a rustling. I looked to see where it was coming from, then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw this rat dangling off a couple of fluorescent tubes above my head.

With a move slicker than anything you’ve ever seen in any Bruce Lee film, I managed to jump up, bend like a reed and flick the tubes deftly with my left wrist, sending little Roland back behind the corrugated sheet from where he dared appear in the first place.( There’s another version of this tale involving an ear-splitting shriek and said rat falling off the tubes in terror, but I wouldn’t pay much heed to that).

Consequently, when I see the likes of Paul Burrel huffing and puffing like an asthmatic phone pest, or Natalie Appleton not being able to do anything at all, I’d just like to remind them that there are some of us who have to put up with that kind of thing on a regular basis.

Let’s hear it for hardcore, extreme blogging.