This week is not all about one bar, but a chain of bars. J.D.Weatherspoons is ordinarily the kind of corporate bully boy that I would avoid at all costs, but the fact is cheap beer is not the reason this group of pubs makes a good bender spot, it is the variety of lagers, beers and weird shit that makes it fun to visit. It was the "Beers of the World" menu that first drew my attention in these watering holes, and nobody ever made it all the way round the planet, the stumbling block always proving to be Belgium, which is home to the demon brew known as Duvel. It proved to be be the iceberg of many a Titanic bender. With branches mushrooming througho
ut the country many benders have been undertaken up and down this green and pleasant land. Bingley is with out a doubt the most regularly visited, as the senior members of the local bender branch are loath to leave this leafy borough. Needles to say some epic sessions have been undertaken, Mallcy usually being the drunkest, but it has always remained quite cordial, only the Helmet has managed to to find himself barred. The only drawback is the decor, it is akin to boozing in an aircraft hangar. Which is a complaint that cannot be levelled at the Keighley franchise, which is a handsome establishment to pass the day on the lash in. It is also were myself the boy and G-spot met halfway round the world, and found ourselves in beer oblivion. A fate that also befell myself, Lobon, Bakes, Aki and Tom at the Moon under Water in Manchester, when the England-West Indies test match was washed out. The day was spent speaking in Dutch accents and taking the piss out of old geezers in pink shirts. This resulted in the cheeky old cock sucker slapping my bald pate, and nearly having his head stuffed up his jacksie as a result. Nearly scraping after a session in the Wigan 'spoons was Mr Angry himself, Young Paul, who was ready to come to blows in defence of a drunken geezer called Brian Clough (the Keighley version). We also saw some fella off Corrie, who turned tail when he saw a drunken Aki lurching towards him swigging from a bottle of Baileys. Honourable mentions go to the branches located in Bradford, Skipton, York, Cleckheaton, Harrogate, Leeds, Brighouse, London nr Leicester Square, Bournemouth, Wimbledon the train station in Leeds, a favourite starting point for footie away days. Beware of Lloyds No 1 bar, a 'spoons offshoot, in Shipley though. Moustaches, track suits and dealer boots. Need I say more.
ut the country many benders have been undertaken up and down this green and pleasant land. Bingley is with out a doubt the most regularly visited, as the senior members of the local bender branch are loath to leave this leafy borough. Needles to say some epic sessions have been undertaken, Mallcy usually being the drunkest, but it has always remained quite cordial, only the Helmet has managed to to find himself barred. The only drawback is the decor, it is akin to boozing in an aircraft hangar. Which is a complaint that cannot be levelled at the Keighley franchise, which is a handsome establishment to pass the day on the lash in. It is also were myself the boy and G-spot met halfway round the world, and found ourselves in beer oblivion. A fate that also befell myself, Lobon, Bakes, Aki and Tom at the Moon under Water in Manchester, when the England-West Indies test match was washed out. The day was spent speaking in Dutch accents and taking the piss out of old geezers in pink shirts. This resulted in the cheeky old cock sucker slapping my bald pate, and nearly having his head stuffed up his jacksie as a result. Nearly scraping after a session in the Wigan 'spoons was Mr Angry himself, Young Paul, who was ready to come to blows in defence of a drunken geezer called Brian Clough (the Keighley version). We also saw some fella off Corrie, who turned tail when he saw a drunken Aki lurching towards him swigging from a bottle of Baileys. Honourable mentions go to the branches located in Bradford, Skipton, York, Cleckheaton, Harrogate, Leeds, Brighouse, London nr Leicester Square, Bournemouth, Wimbledon the train station in Leeds, a favourite starting point for footie away days. Beware of Lloyds No 1 bar, a 'spoons offshoot, in Shipley though. Moustaches, track suits and dealer boots. Need I say more.
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