The meeting of blowhards was in full swing. There we were, in a pub, a pub that none of us had been thrown out of. Yet. Discussing the various ejections from other bars because of misadventures. In the company I keep, being thrown out of a saloon is a badge of honour. The Wild West we like to call it.
Billy Hiccup recounted the number of staff that hurled him from the Bull Bar. It took hic of them, he said. Then Dad Longworth Continue reading “The Landlord is always right”
Boadicea's Chariot 