Tales from the Lonely Tavern - Edition Two By King Rat - Professional Yorkshireman

Editorial

Yet again tis what the government gave me, two score an eight hours of rest and unbridled caperings. Thou find thee and company in the homely ambience of the lonely tavern. Three men of little wit but a wisdom born of hard adventurin'. Our chatterins aim not to preach but to teach.

Ye olde pub chat

As followers of the holy brew can truly tell, we primates are known for a greater hint of lustin' under the ever guiding influence of booze. Thus without regard to fellow miscreants, ramble gambled on to joyous worship of that most shapely of mankind........ the Ladies. Now of all the professions of mighty Blighty from blacksmith and baker to furniture maker, which be havin' the finest of feminine wiles?

Do lasses at local knitwear factory weave web of sexual seduction, does the lady at British Home Stores ave thou lyin' back and thinkin' of England. Nay, ye be all in doubt, for one occupation above all delivers unrivalled flocks of matchless beauties, - dental nursing.

Clean limbed and fresh faced, an intellect bestowed of cat-like menace, and what better time to meet these Helen 'a' Troy's of tooth and tongue than laid prone upon dentist chair. Maw open wide crammed with medical sponges, gob n drool drippin sluggishly from ones mug. Aye, and how does thee engage with these angels of hygiene, exscushe me, howsh about me san yoush gorn forra drink in which she replies, spit in the sink. On tuther subject raised upon evenin's gain, is it just me or was Sid James just a poor mans Lu Carpenter.

Crap Jest of t'week

Was Lord Kitchener his real name or just a SUDAN-UM? (that Joke is courtesy of Neil Atkinson, last weeks jest for those who are bothered was from Steve Shepherdson)

Common-sense from the common man

The uprisin' of male groomin' and accompanied tendencies is matters close to thy beatin' chest. Since man was usurped by somewhat wiser and fairer other halves, the male of our species has found himself flounderin' on the dry acres of modern social modus operandi (now there's some fancy chinwag, ooh la la Mr Frenchman). Alas long gone are days of huntin' deer and fightin' Romans, ghosts of past are they - replaced by hot Sunday journeys to designer outlets and the occasional need to open very tight jam jars.

This loss of purpose in present years has aided steep decline of all that was once good and mighty in testosterone fuelled existence. Just sneak a gander at the box today and you'll be bombarded by enough perfumes and skin creams to turn any self-respecting Harrison Ford into a Julian Clary.

Now don't get me wrong, some of thee's best friends etc., etc, but for the rest of us meat eatin, bear punchin' ugly crew, a dash of water and a side order of Hoo Hah! is all thee be needin'. Common man of common sense says, and God made man with balls.

The Ten Commandments for the manly man

1. Thou shall drink ale and not ye girly lager 2. Thou shall watch football though it be very dull 3. Thou shall shit, shower and shave and non more for vanity 4. Thou shall not be vegetarian 5. Thou shall not ask for directions 6. Thou shall not make love but "see to her indoors" 7. Thou shall not be scared of the dark 8. Thou will have an urge for self-destruction 9. Thou will live hard, act stupid and die young 10. And most importantly - Thou shall come from Yorkshire

Ale of ye week

Deuchars (3.8%) - Caledonian Brewery I'll take the high road and you take the low road and we'll get absolutely blotto-ed somewhere in the middle. Say what you want bout folk of the highlands but when it comes to ye ale, those crazed Celts of the North ken their ken-how. Deuchars is a Scottish beer that happened to win that most sacred of grails the CAMRA supreme champion beer of Britain in the year of our lord 2002. Masterly nurtured in the fair town of Edinburgh this IPA caught my affections from the first sip in the George Hotel (Land of Green Ginger).

Best drunk in the summer as many pale ales, it invigorates the quenchin' thirst as much as any lager, without the crap that is. Only mischance of character is the lack of aftertaste and the lingerin' threat of undisturbed hops. All in all, a victorious distillation. Suitable for outdoor drinkin, barbeques and ladies on the loss 'o' poundage. Due a Deuchars? I'm well overdue.

IPA: For those bemused by these three inscriptions. IPA stands for Indian Pale Ale. These ales were created purposely for the export to soldiers, sailors and diplomats stationed in the East India Company. The brew was traditionally heavily hopped as to survive ye vast journey.

Coming up in Edition two - Give thou respite, ave not thought that far ahead yet.

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