Self portrait – December 2011. This is a quick and dirty post. I’m not sure if it is a one off or a new theme – in which I plaster my ugly mug up on the blog, cataloguing a year through my face. Some might argue that the image won’t change – that the same lacklustre expression will be in evidence throughout the year. Maybe it won’t. Maybe you’ll see a stark contrast between how I look today, and how I’ll look in 12 months. Let’s see. Today’s image is a reminder that I shouldn’t even bother trying to make promises. Saturday morning I woke up, worse for wear, desperately trying to convince Amy that this Christmas will be different. That I won’t drink to
Drinking Archive
I note with some interest that it is only a week to go until the European arm of the 2011 Beer Bloggers Conference. I’m not a beer blogger – such a specialism doesn’t really interest me – but buying, drinking and talking about beer; in public or on twitter does make for a good hour or two well spent each week. What does interest me about the event, is that there is a section on the agenda for Subject Matter Experts (SMEs) to discuss the finer points of beer blogging – under the notion that there are dos and don’ts involved. The reason this interests me is that, as a blogger myself, I’d be wary of anyone suggesting that what I do is right or
There are certain points in time that we are all supposed to remember exactly where we were, when something profound or ground breaking took place. My Mum claims to remember exactly where she was when JFK was assassinated. Others can recall where they were when man first set foot on the moon, or when Phil Collins played two gigs in one day for Live Aid. But then, that really is nothing compared to what I am about to share with you. For I can quite clearly remember where I was the day I first paid £2 for a pint. It was the same day that I realised England were rubbish at football – The date was the 17th June 1992. The place was The George