I'm happy. My post on Clerkenwell pubs in 1881 was featured on Londonist as part of their monthly food blog round-up.
There are some peaky looking chaps here in Rome. Two days of birra, birra, birra has destroyed even the most hardy among us. A 10am hotel check-out has resulted in a sisyphean ordeal - grown men stagger from their filthy pits to the shower, weeping along the way. So far Dr. Robbles has barely stirred. When he does, we expect some cursing.
Never trust people who think beer subdivides into "lager", "bitter" and "Guinness".
Never trust people who say they like chain bars because "they always know what they're getting".
Never trust people who list "socialising" as an interest on their CV.
Never trust people who can't give a straightforward answer when you ask them where they're from.
Never trust people who invite you on skiing trips when you have never expressed any interest in the sport (or indeed their company).
Never trust blokes who try and ban the c-word from conversation because their bird doesn't like it (just say it more).
Never trust people who "don't like to lose control".
Finally and most importantly, never, ever trust people who don't drink beer, unless they have a very good excuse - and for the avoidance of doubt, being an uptight, miserable sod is not a very good excuse.
Stonch lives in London, where he runs a pub.
1 comments:
thank you nice sharing
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