If in doubt, offend everyone. Works for Si.
On the Sunday I headed to Hudders to Meet the Southworths, a film that would undoubtedly star De Niro if he hadn’t been shot by Joker.
Two nights at Ivy Green, £28 a night and John Smith Smooth for £2.40. The red-faced Old Boy told me the Landlord was raking it in at £2.40, the Landlady glared.
“Enjoy your trip” said the red-faced local as I missed a step and fell into the Public. Wags (as opposed to WAGS).
20 minutes later I was admiring Harold.
Which was unfortunate, since I was meant to be at the Grove, where assorted Yanks and Mudges and Luke were already 5 pints to the wind.
One of the Huddersfield legends, but what’s happened here?
BrewDog signage, garish green pub name, what’s going on ?
Not a lot.
Still the premier beer house.
Far too much choice. What’s wrong with Just Bass?
In fact, I make that n-n-n-n-n-19.
Nineteen. I chose a Fallen. At random, as I was feeling sad for Scotland having inexplicably listened to their brave Rugby World Cup exit on the way up.
Scotland and brave World Cup exits go together like BRAPA and weak bladder control.
Despite a horror show of a glass, possibly five sided, the beer was top notch.
Dick perused my Beer Guide. BUT DIDN’T NICK IT.
I spoke too loudly.
No dogs licked me.
It was A GOOD START.