Right, got the obligatory anti-war bit over with. Can’t bring myself to rant yet today – feeling far too rough. A weekend recap should explain:
Friday: Work drinks at 4pm to
celebratecommiserate the departure of Mike, a friend and drinking buddy. This continued, more or less, until 6pm. Then to The Tyburn, a pub I’ve linked once before and don’t feel any further need to promote. Then to the Mason’s Arms, which is worth promoting but unfortunately I can’t remember the name of the street so can’t find. Many beers later, an “entertaining” taxi ride home with Mike and Sue,and then birthday gift presentation to Lou, who arrived 10 minutes or so after me from her drunken evening with the girls.
Saturday involved Lou opening her other presents (it was her birthday…incase you hadn’t guessed) and then much laziness, interspersed with a trip to the post office and some clothes shopping (Lou), and the production of many fruity alcoholic drinks for consumption on the premises (me). Later in the evening, we ventured beyond the front door and hotfooted it to the Frog & Forget-me-not for a few beers and some fantastic Thai food. I very much like the place, but a hint to and F&F-m-n staff who might read this:
Spraying the table with that smelly cleaning stuff might well be a good way to clear the conservatory at last orders (time at 10:45 – don’t get me started) but it’s fucking obnoxious. Don’t do it.
Sunday was Heather’s birthday, so it was off to Chutney Mary for an extremely enjoyable and tasty selection of curried goodness, several beers and a short disagreement over the bill. This was amicably solved, but the manager did seem to think he was being generous by removing the bottle of wine we hadn’t received from the bill, and amending the prices of the wine we’d received to that of the wines we’d asked for.
The day was completed by an afternoon in a pub which memory somewhat fuzzily identifies as the Greene Room, but I can’t seem to find any references to it soo…its right next to Stamford Bridge, Chelsea FC’s home ground. Not the site of the battle. Then, later, home and (oh no) a kebab.
Monday: ow, ow, ow, eurrrgh.