I was quite inspired and impressed with The Consul’s early days of drinking: Right, I had to get up … My story was quite different and less exotic. I didn’t actually get drunk until two months before my 19th birthday. Which means I was 100% legal. But before I arrived …
So after The Consul’s magnum opus on the early days of his drinking I felt like Eric Idle in the Four Yorkshiremen sketch, so the gauntlet has been laid down and I will be back tomorrow night with more. Unfortunately, I can predict now it will a much shorter exposition. …
Finally, the king of English wines. Chambard was the Morrisons wine that every student could afford. Kentucky and I took a couple of bottles to a Damned gig out in the Yorkshire countryside, elbowed our way to the front and pogoed the night away. Was it Nostell Priory? I then …
After Bacardi Rum, inevitably it then became Malibu de bombom, the favoured drink of Coconut airways. This got me pissed quick, particularly for a vegetarian on a dairy diet – just add milk. The last time I remember drinking it I was having fun (?) at a works do in …
Kentucky always liked a traveller and I liked the idea of a flask. I couldn’t afford one and so I used a Clearasil bottle. I wanted something inconspicuous and so into my used acne bottle went the clear Bacardi Rum. A water bottle for the road, sir? As sold by …
After a few pints at the Little Park and a Chinese takeaway I’d collapse on my bed with a glass of green chartreuse. At 55% it was much favoured as the strongest drink you could get round and about. Unfortunately I would often fall asleep in said position and wake …
The beautiful creamy hourglass of Stones sold by Bum, the Landlord, and Helga was the best pint I ever had. Cream in a sleeve, I regularly necked a glassful. Having been brought up on London piss like Youngs (no sparkler was half the problem), this was gorgeous. Alas the Little …
Well my favourite cocktail was always a white Russian –they got me on Milk and Alcohol, you know. My old man used to get out the liqueurs on any occasion we had guests—Drambuie, Cointreau, Grand Marnier, and so on. Fond memories. Except for the fondue. A horrible 70s invention of …
Ahhhhh, those first days away from home. Kentucky called me squire and tried to bully me. I called him something I can’t even remember – yeoman??? And we bonded over booze; north and south united in Guinness. Even Bob, that much maligned roomie of the flewgar was redeemed becos of …
‘Daddy was an alcoholic’ sang Satrsailor back in the day. Except I called them Starfucker in tribute to Eel Pie’s very own Twicker Mick Jagger. Well, for me, Mummy was a coper. She coped with my dad. She coped with her warring boys, me and my brother. There were three …
Graduating to work experience at Archers Golf and Sport shop in Twickenham, I soon became aware of the culture of the drinking man as opposed to the underage drinker. One lunchtime we closed the shop and decided to go to the Eel Pie for a pint; then another pint; and …
Back in the day, every little drinker wanted something sweet. After all the sugary drinks of childhood, only cider was kidult enough for our palates. Underage drinking at the Magpie started here. Every night there was a rumour of a police ‘raid’ and every night we bricked ourselves waiting for …
It has been pretty hectic at work since my sister left last week. She is now down in sunny Mexico and having a great time. This was the first time she has been to visit me since coming to America almost 30 years ago and it was so nice to …
Speaking of post war Americanization, of course in the bar scene of the film adaptation of that updated Tom/Jack/Mack-the-knife story The Talented Mr Ripley, it’s all about whiskey and soda. A bottle of Jack Daniels and a recording of Sophia Loren singing the song sounds good to me. I wonder …
Yep; that’s my childhood right there. We all dreamed ourselves American as kids. All in all, you’re just another… Keep building that wall Donald!
I’m lovin it — no, not McDonalds you schmuck; I mean Maxim Max’s post about NL. I remember pur—–chasing that par—-ticular re—-cord back in the day; mainly ‘cos What’s So Funny was on the other side. But yes it fed into the trashing of American mythology along with Radio Radio …
Back in the UK The Consul and Kentucky are big football fans. This should not come as a surprise to anyone, but I’ve never really been interested. When I was younger and my Dad watched the FA Cup I would watch with him. I remember enjoying the 1978-79 match with …
When I think of what makes the British squirm it is pretty much everything, but an American? That has got to be pretty tricky. I’d love to know what Nick Lowe said to make an American Squirm!
It all began with Suits: Macallan 18 I convinced myself that I needed to have some form of Macallan in my life. The Consul and Kentucky are Whiskey guys, but me I’m a simple Cider and Beer guy. But after watching Suits I’ve convinced myself that when you have something …
What a dilemma. I found these two tomes in a bookshop and thought I’d take a photo of them together. Do you care, like Felicity, and give a Fig and put lots of effort in trying to succeed with your goals; or do you, like Mark, believe that striving is …
of course it could be worse. And the fashion was. Punk destroyed everything: music, fashion, taste, politics. We were left with the frigging new romantics. Bowie gone Thatcher!
It’s weird when your past gets turned into history. And put in front of your face. In a cabinet. In a museum. V&A, baby…
At the end of the evening when you decide another beer is not forthcoming it is always sad when you finish that last drop. You know it is coming, but even so that last drop sends a small pang of regret. When we were younger, you’d just get another beer …
It is nice to reminisce of the easy days before work and family when we felt like we had no cares in the world: But we were happy in those days, Myrtle But life is not so bad even 35 years on. We have more baggage, for sure, but I …
Great to have a week off work; do the pubs, enjoy the country, drink the wine, fruit of the vine. And listen to some Van. As I said before, I only wish we were smokin’ up in Kendal, with your red robe dangling. But it’s pretty good here, you know, …
Now, we all know I like to drink good beer with good friends down the pubs of Albion, but as I said I am compelled to spit my Blakean bile at the number of signs telling us wot not to do. And here we are again, dogs and bitches. In …
Well, you could knock 7 shades of eight bells of hell outta me. There we were in the heart of the Cotswolds in Chipping Campden (not to be confused with Camden, Mick), compelled to register the number of signs telling us wot not to do. So, I supped my north …
Although the ELO concert on Monday was not as exciting as I had hoped, (though I’m still thinking of Rosie Langley for sure) we still had a great mini-break in Dallas this week. Last night we found ourselves back in my favorite Dallas bar The Library and it didn’t disappoint. …
When you go to a live concert you’re hoping to hear your favorite songs. But of course you want more than that, you could stay at home and listen to the albums if that is all you wanted. You are looking for atmosphere and some connection with the band. In …
a young boy? … who wishes he ‘was a punk rocker with flowers in his hair’ (don’t get me started…) So, we went to see the Bootleg Beatles, who were a lot of fun. Then we got to see the Chinese Beatles ballet in HK!! Is nothing fuckin’ sacred? Not …
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