Drinkcember

Hullabalall,

     luckily the title does not represent an avoidable non drinking pub destruction plan for the madness of this month, instead it rather aptly describes my drinking and related agendas for the same period. I was inspired to write this after a lunchtime wander to the pharmacy where I observed an alarming epitome of excessive methylated misuse in such a small space. I did not set out to espouse my dissatisfaction, instead to dress you with some of the related baubles of nonsense encountered on one of only a small number of sober days thus far in December, and to also highlight some of the hugely enjoyable crapulence therein.

Arriving at Wicker Chemists after 13.00 I immediately spotted two outdoor Spice enthusiasts, maudlin and emaciated, raging at every evolving happenstance with delirious (on his part at least) mumbled rage, as if every aspect of mans existence was sent to try them. Luckily I was served quite quickly as this internal inferno of garbage prevailed but having escaped, I walked down Stanley lane out onto Nursery street. I used to work on nearby Joiner street and despite the excess of litter and unreadable graffiti I thought about popping my phone out to snap the sun reflecting off the Waverley windows - until I spotted two further outdoor mentalists pressing themselves against some otherwise forbidden garage doors and "enjoying" the partaking of some subcutaneous matter. Wanting to avoid a listenation, or worse still, losing my legal meds or phone, I did not remove the same from my pocket, and walked by thinking "Christmas, ambling aimlessly through our streets with your disparate and exacerbated cousin, what have you brought upon us?"

In my own case the answer is simple - luffly bose. And although I admit to an occasional nodding, and indeed three separate incidences of falling, I would like to point out that at the very least, my unwise enjoyments do not make their way into my blood stream via syringe. And to somehow support this fact, here are a few recent examples.....

On pay weekend I collected my take away cans and a bottle from Beer Central. What with a direct request from the dark lord himself I have to admit that I have already finished these, but a number stuck in my memory.  Wylam Greenbutt Skunk was a September or so brewed green hopped masterpiece at about 8.3% and blew me away - I had a can in Bar Stewards and then one at home with Matty and we both loved its complex but unrestrained mix of flavours.

Matty himself bought me a 9% Cloudwater New Zealand DIPA with, strangely I thought, Southern Cross and Amarillo as its hops. Luckily this likewise blew my mind, and finished off a whole evening of other classics including the Triangle referenced 8.3% Garage speciality with fabulous malt and other flavours, and the Pressure Drop Domino Topple IPA at 7.1%. I have to say that I have loved almost every Pressure Drop can I have had recently and this was no exception.

A trip to Bar Stewards not only provided a range of bottled wines for the first time in...ever? but also some excellent Loca Polly - their Rosa at 8.5% was fantastic, as was the Deya and another False coloured eyes (this, along with all my memories, maybe mildly inaccurate) but as well as this joy there were three fabulous pints at my second home Shakespeares - I had over three pints of Wylam Jakehead on cask from the past, a pint of 6.5% Cloudwater pale on keg from the future and a few nights ago my last visit of the year provided three pints of the excellent Pentrich IPA at 5. something% which was cloudy as a small bag of soup and as well as being on cask from the past, tasted amazing!

Final highlights included a catch up with chums at the St Mars of the Dessert Tap where I had a pint of their excellent Levy Greve which I am certain I have mis-spelled, as well as other classics, before catching a bus into town and up to Walkley to meet WK in the Walkley Beer Co for their fifth birthday. I then finished in the Raven on Palm Street, now a much improved version of the Palm!

As I return to the unending horse gin of despair tomorrow to lug sacks of garbage up out of the depths of the earth to pleasure the otherwise disaffected, I can safely say that my every libational undertaking in this fine month has ended up making me a very happy chap indeed.

Cheers!

And a very happy new year

Wee Beefy