London pubs

[Mr. Tea]

That's a shame, Rich, that was a great pub. Wasn't Arthur like Victoria's tenth child, or something? So totally unimportant as far as the line of succession went, which is reflected in the photos of him inside the pub. There's one where he's in a costume that I think I said David Bowie would have considered a bit silly and over the top in 1973.

 

[IdleRich]

Oh yeah, I think it was this one right?

Vicky's third son apparently. Ah but seventh child.

 

[IdleRich]

Many good times in there, one time I was chatting up this girl who just got better and better - first she said she designed lingerie, then it turned out that she collected erotic literature (I remember that her favourite book was called Anal Stud - dunno if that was a person or a piece of jewellery) but things went a bit awry when I made what I thought was a harmless joke but which made her friend cry. It was 2nd January or something, no-one had slept for days and everyone was a bit delicate I guess.

 

[IdleRich]

All those pubs around there got gentrified. I'm not gonna moan about that as such it's all been said before. But the one I found strange was, I think it's called, The Cock on Mare Street. I used to go there on my own and watch the football games in the midweek, was a kinda mainly Irish pub I think, pool table, biggish screen, spit and sawdust and relatively cheap. And then they did it up, but it feels like a completely different space, it's all dark wood and twenty different real ales on tap - but the strange thing is the way it looks as though it's really old and it's always been like that and the idea of the pub that was there before and which was in fact much more modern looking has been totally erased.
This is it now

 

[Mr. Tea]

Anal Stud sounds like a book by Chuck Tingle.

Actually, maybe not, because his oeuvre is quite specifically gay sex involving anthropomorphic dinosaurs.

 

[Leo]

All those pubs around there got gentrified. I'm not gonna moan about that as such it's all been said before. But the one I found strange was, I think it's called, The Cock on Mare Street. I used to go there on my own and watch the football games in the midweek, was a kinda mainly Irish pub I think, pool table, biggish screen, spit and sawdust and relatively cheap. And then they did it up, but it feels like a completely different space, it's all dark wood and twenty different real ales on tap - but the strange thing is the way it looks as though it's really old and it's always been like that and the idea of the pub that was there before and which was in fact much more modern looking has been totally erased.
This is it now

that's the story of so many places here too, although most probably not as old as yours. that photo could be of about a dozen current bars in Brooklyn.

 

[IdleRich]

It's not that it was old, it's just weird to me that they took a newish place and re-imagined it as somewhere that looks hundreds of years old.

 

[IdleRich]

Many good times in there, one time I was chatting up this girl who just got better and better - first she said she designed lingerie, then it turned out that she collected erotic literature (I remember that her favourite book was called Anal Stud - dunno if that was a person or a piece of jewellery) but things went a bit awry when I made what I thought was a harmless joke but which made her friend cry. It was 2nd January or something, no-one had slept for days and everyone was a bit delicate I guess.

Actually reading through that it's not a good memory at all.

 

[luka]

Me and the Woops stopped by The Cock on a massive pub crawl last year. I got him to do a shot of pickled egg juice there. Then we got talking to this misanthropic young Irish lad who did an office job he hated. Basically so we could smoke all his cigarettes. Just sitting in this grotty excuse for a beer garden with his totally fucked Irish cunt listening to all his toxic rage and frustration. Weird day.

 

[luka]

Woops played Functions on the Low on the pub piano a few times. It was probably early afternoon on a weekday. We started in the morning in The Rochester Castle with the idea of going to every pub from there to Hackney. That was the concept.

 

[IdleRich]

After a party at my ex's house I remember carrying on with Woops and a French guy who was sleeping on my sofa we did pretty much what you described, starting in Stokey and working our way back to my house.... at the end of the day we ended up in the Arthur and one of bargirls was kinda bending over near our table and I saw my French friend's eyes just kinda focus on her arse and then I could only watch in horror as he reached out with both hands - seemingly in slo-mo but I couldn't do anything to stop it - and sort of double-pinched/groped her. It was a fucking nightmare, her boyfriend was there and he kicked off (of course). I had to use all my charm to calm things down... pretty sure Woops was no help.

 

[Mr. Tea]

Me and the Woops stopped by The Cock on a massive pub crawl last year. I got him to do a shot of pickled egg juice there. Then we got talking to this misanthropic young Irish lad who did an office job he hated. Basically so we could smoke all his cigarettes. Just sitting in this grotty excuse for a beer garden with his totally fucked Irish cunt listening to all his toxic rage and frustration. Weird day.

Still though, free fags, can't argue with that.

 

[woops]

After a party at my ex's house I remember carrying on with Woops and a French guy who was sleeping on my sofa

I thought we agreed this stayed between those involved

 

[shiels]

Everyone out for pints with woops then is it

 

[IdleRich]

I thought we agreed this stayed between those involved

Well for once you weren't the guilty party so what's the harm?

 

[IdleRich]

Oh was it a sex joke? Sorry.

 

[Mr. Tea]

pretty sure Woops was no help.

I don't mean to sound harsh or anything, but this I can well believe.

 

[luka]

I've just had several! But what I really want is for Oliver to take me on a pub crawl.

We need to take Vimothy out. All it would take to deradicalise him would be some social contact with his peers.

 

[vimothy]

I'll wear my "fascist potato" tee shirt and my favourite pair of cropped trousers

 

[craner]

I hate pubs.