Just had a bottle of this to myself and it was absolutely fucking spectacular. You know that episode of The Simpsons where Homer eats the sourball? That face. Basically funky, beery perfection in my eyes.
🍻🍷 The Map of 🇲🇷 Booze thread whatever the title says (or is changed to when moderately intoxicated)
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Conrad Knight socks.
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It wasn’t Friday, but went out with the missus last night and got fucking hammered.
Superb evening. Her mate joined us halfway through and I showed them the wonders of The Swan pub. Stayed there for hours.
She never gets to ask how it is I spend so much money at football again. She knows why now 
You must have a really stable relationship if she was ok with you paying for a prostitute like you do when you come down south.
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And I thought Phil left without paying for a burger - did I mishear?
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Yeah, but you’ve got cheap rates, bletch.
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Old Fashions did for me last night. When will I learn? Whiskey after wine equals atomic hangover.
Went out Friday night with some Friends to celebrate their Wedding Anniversary but I had the acid indegestion from hell and was therefore left with driving duties and drinking soda water!
I am becoming something of a lightweight in my old age!!
Faithless Thursday night. Ridiculously hot and all they had to drink was Tuborg.
Cricket weekend in Birmingham. All they had at the cricket was flat Carlsberg.
I drank my body weight on both occasions and deserve a sodding great medal for not throwing up.
PS charcoal tablets work. Seriously.
Originally posted by @Bucks
All they had at the cricket was flat Carlsberg.
I cannot believe that they spend so much money convincing peeps that their piss is “probably the best lager in the world”.
They doth protest too much, I reckon.
Their own fucking Export is better.
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Just a comma away from a good evening.
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In news which has surprised me and basically jumped my body, I have been out in Liverpool two weekends on the run.
Five of us went for a few beers last night. I have started showing the missus my pub run into town. She can now find me on a night out just by looking at a watch and guessing which boozer I will be in.
I find this both endearing and terrifying.
Three pubs only last night. The Philharmonic Rooms, The Pilgrim and the Swan.
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What a turnround day. Exhilaration with the draw, then news that a mate has an inoperable tumour.
Kinda lost the Bubble buzz real fast.
Why does life do that to people
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Starnge thing happened last night. Went across the road for a few early sherberts and returned home at 9pm to receive a delivered Thai meal. The guy who delivers it has a strong London accent and we usually have a bit of a chat before he goes on his way. Last night, out of the blue, he says he is looking forward to the new footy season and that his club are just about to buy this amazing player called Boufal. I’m thinking, oh, a London club have come in for him at the last minute and we have lost him. Then he goes on about a new manager and problems playing the diamond system. Penny drops. Ah, you are a Saints supporter. So am I. Small world etc etc. I know this isnt odd if you live in Southampton, but 5 miles out of Ashford in Kent and it becomes a bit more odd. Just to keep this on thread I then went on to neck a few bottles of Hoegaarden and finished the night slightly pickled.
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See separate thread.
Woke up @ 5am on sofa with no idea how I got there - could have sworn I went to bed.
On the plus side, only about 3 hours to this weeks game.
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Cocktails at a friend’s 40th. Day’s like this where I wish I didn’t have small children.
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Things will get better, in about 15 years…
The hangovers are the same though
We are having one of our famous parties, and quite coincidentally, the old man will be along tonight. Phoned out of the blue. Cato. I keep saying it.
Barry should pop along. He’s always liked the cut of the man’s jib.
Meanwhile, I am battening down the hatches for another Taylor party wildcard. For reasons of family decency, cohesion and not wanting to attract multi-generational scorn, I will not mention these events here.
What I will say is that no-one has ever been murdered. The coppers always report the deaths as misadventure.
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I don’t. My best mate (sorry Fatso) has left his nippers with his missus, and everyone else either has grown up kids or decent sitters.
Having kids young was a pain in the arse many years ago. Brilliant now. That said, I do get a bit emosh and jealous when you see newish parents with their young broods, so you ain’t in a bad spot, TCK.
I’ve got different problems. I’m going to have a house full of teenagers that have just passed their GCSEs.
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It’s not all bad. They’re old enough to get their own breakfast and find Netflix on the TV. That bought me a couple of hours.
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