pictures from your local
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IdleRich
IdleRich
No I'm not a fan, but in my parochial way I do tend to support the English sides in CL. Third Form is Arsenal I believe in which case he naturally ought to nurture an utter hatred of all London clubs - but particularly their derby rivals Spurs and the team that Abramovic's billions artificially (whatever that means) catapulted to top table status ie Chelsea.
You forgot the shed ted, headhunters bit.
WashYourHands
Cat Malogen
Disregard for Palace
Who are they, why do they bother
Who are they, why do they bother
luka
Well-known member
theres a few in england. its named after a woman with her head chopped off i think.
version
Well-known member
Probably should. It's pretty distasteful.
Seems to be a name that a few other pubs have eg this one in Dorset that looks a bit posher
www.thesilentwoman.co.uk
But yeah, it will probably have to go. The clientele in there are very different to every other pub so I think if the name changes, it will just go altogether.
The Silent Woman
The Silent Woman, Wareham, Dorset. 2,359 likes · 21 talking about this. Nestling in the heart of Wareham Forest, we pride ourselves on the excellent service of quality ales, wine and food.
www.thesilentwoman.co.uk
But yeah, it will probably have to go. The clientele in there are very different to every other pub so I think if the name changes, it will just go altogether.
WashYourHands
Cat Malogen
Completely given up pubs although they may have given up me first from overdoing it. They can hum with life. Cosy watering holes. Characters. Warm glowing beacons in from the cold but also an air bit like the the bookies in places, pure repressed sadness leaking out of every cunt, the same faces laughing a little bit too loud talking over everyone from flake
Maybe an 80’s association with the sound of breaking glass and faces/heads/necks getting bottled or glassed. Grim. A decade later you find yourself as the ten pints and charles ogre hogging a pool table. Time to get a grip
Overexposure to settings brings out the worst in people, so you have to mix your watering spots up. Paradoxically, my Dad’s generation functioned (practically lived) in local boozers but took any grievances elsewhere - nothing more humiliating to his generation than getting barred from their specific local, people shot for less
Maybe an 80’s association with the sound of breaking glass and faces/heads/necks getting bottled or glassed. Grim. A decade later you find yourself as the ten pints and charles ogre hogging a pool table. Time to get a grip
Overexposure to settings brings out the worst in people, so you have to mix your watering spots up. Paradoxically, my Dad’s generation functioned (practically lived) in local boozers but took any grievances elsewhere - nothing more humiliating to his generation than getting barred from their specific local, people shot for less
luka
Well-known member
doesnt matter really does it? who cares.
Good observation. Applies to Dissensus too
IdleRich
IdleRich
Great night at Chatterbox on Sunday. Liza and I came back from beach in the evening and decided to end the long hot lazy afternoon with a few drinks there.
Some sort of event on the pavement outside, a group of nine or ten locals had hired a table and were loosely based around it, staggering in vague orbit of the collapsed pile of food that forned the centrepiece. By the amount of wrecked food and wrecked people I guess things had kicked off midday.
Tried to figure it out - wedding, birthday, christening, what? - but it wasn't obvious. Party is mainly men of various ages, all stumbling drunk. There were two women attached to the group, one of whom wore a tiny pair of denim shorts that were... I don't want to be be mean, but some would say they were a bit small and arguably a little young for her.
Also one girl about eight years old. No idea how she fitted in, but pretty sure it's no sinister elite grooming shite. There was one handsome guy - big and strong but also, of course, somewhat fat and with a magnificent beard that was sort of hipster but only sort of, in my mind he was maybe the boss, and sure enough, at some point I saw him arguing with the owner about some receipts. To lazily inebriated me that was cast iron proof that he was The Man, demonstrating his largesse by paying for all his hangers-on to spend Sunday getting cunted while also showing his authority by querying the number of snails they had been charged for.
The vibe was kinda nasty - albeit ineffectual. One huge youngish guy kept arguing with this old fatty with a spectacular beer belly and almost coming to blows with him. But this other ugly sort of fat but muscley bloke kept taking his top off and then getting between them to separate them. Ultimately though it was one of those nights where allegiances kept changing (a game of plastic white chairs); A is trying to separate B and C, but a minute later A would have bottled C himself if it hadn't been for the fortunate arrival of D.
We are sat in the centre, effectively invisible cos no-one knows us, just throwing back glass after 50c glass of wine and trying not to stare too obviously at the human drama unfolding around us. Liza keeps saying "don't look at them" and at first I thougjht she was worried about us getting bottled or something - but when I try to reassure her it turns out she is not at all worried in that regard, she's just pissed off that at times I'm apparently not paying enough attention to whatever she's holding forth on now.
Inevitably a line is crossed somewhere and B lamps D or maybe it's C and E I dunno... one guy is on the floor and others are punching him in the back of head. The owner comes out to pull them apart and someone pulls HIM back instead, which seemed to really upset him. And hearing his cries the cook comes out and starts shouting at everyone - it's proper Last of the Summer Wine type vibe cos she's about four foot tall, slightly wider than her height and she is angrily berating them like Nora Batty. I wished she had a rolling pin but life is never quite that perfect.
And bar shuts, owner is almost in tears for some reason and he snatches our chairs while Liza keeps asking for more drinks. The cook spends the next half hour sweeping beer and broken glass off the curb and we head off for a walk. See a few braves from the bar walking around topless.
A pointless night of nothing that amused me disproportionately.
william_kent
Well-known member
I think your suspicions are correct judging by the way the bystanders are shouting "Leeds Massive!" at the end of "Gypsy Traveller - Epic Bare Knuckle Part 2" ( I'd seen part 1 on youtube, so despite my essentially pacifist nature I had to watch part 2 just to see what happened... )
edit: can you spot the "23"?
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