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Category: top ten (page 2 of 2)

Top Ten Tuesday: Favourite comedians I’ve seen lately in alphabetical order

Andrew O’Neill: Rocker and part time union card-carrying transvestite Andrew O’Neill turned up at a benefit gig in King’s Cross recently that Dancing Dave, Housemate James & I went to.  Good mix of one-liners, non-sequitirs, and generally pretty sharp material.  Will definitely go check him out again I think – maybe wouldn’t put him at number 1 in a top ten, but it’s alphabetical, so get off my case (OK, so I’m clearly covering here for the fact I can’t remember a thing the guy said other than I found him intelligent & humorous).

Andy Zaltzman: If this list were alphabetical by surname he’d be last on it…  but that wouldn’t make him any less of a gold-standard A-list bullshit artist.  Zaltzman teams up with longterm sparring partner John Oliver to produce highly excellent audio newspaper podcast The Bugle.  How he can go on week after week delivering such a marvellous load of topical poppycock with a straight face is an utter mystery.

Brendon Burns: Equal parts comedian and force of nature, Burns is loud & unapologetic about putting his material out there.  We were lucky enough to see him in Edinburgh performing his thought-provoking & award-winning show, “So I Suppose This Is Offensive Now?“.  For Burns comedy isn’t a safe, smug, sit-back-and-giggle at things he’s noticed that you’ve noticed – he gets in your face and challenges your ideals, which to my mind is an extremely valuable function of comedy.

Daniel Kitson: OK, so the reason I didn’t number this list is because once I’d put Kitson at #1 I struggled to rank the rest. He’s just brilliant.  Unfortunately (for us) he’s notoriously reluctant to do TV, so footage of his material’s a bit hard to come by.  The first time I saw him was in the 2003 Melbourne Comedy Festival Gala:

He now tends to do 2 types of shows – standup, such as in the video, which often involves a short story or two crammed with asides & distractions, riffs on his own material, and his amazing vocab peppered with absolute cheeky filth…  he really delights in it, and there’s not much he won’t do if he reckons it’ll be funny.  The second type of show, which he’s really collecting acclaim for and justifiably so, is his story shows – each one is a carefully crafted tale, usually read from a book or at least notes; absolutely jammed with detail and intricacy.  Kitson uses the English language like watercolours, capturing all sorts of subtlety and nuance to describe his rich creations.  I’ve been extremely fortunate to have seen a couple of them now, such as “The Ballad of Roger and Grace” (a tale told by a man on a train to another man on the same train, of the greatest love story ever), “Stories From The Starlit Sky: Part 1” (a tale of two people who work through the night in a secret government office, filing every act of love that takes place in the world), and “The Interminable Suicide of Gregory Church” (Kitson’s recounting of how, when looking for a property to purchase he stumbled on a suicide note from the former owner, and pieced the man’s life together via the 30,000+ pieces of correspondence he left behind).  Quite often Kitson employs the atmospheric and songwriting talents of his friend Gavin Osborn, which fit in nicely to create the ambience that makes each piece so special.

Without fail, every time I leave one of Daniel Kitson’s story shows, I kick myself repeatedly that I didn’t buy half a dozen extra tickets and force my friends to all come along.

Josie Long: an everywoman comedian who I can’t help but smile widely at.  She’s slightly shambolic, doesn’t present like a polished performance, but gets you on side and giggling, after which you realise just how talented she is.  I think appearing ill-prepared is part of the schtick: unless it’s just a massive coincidence that every time I’ve seen her she’s just come back from a festival and hasn’t slept, or has had to leave her shoes offstage because the backstage shower flooded the dressing room & saturated them.  I love the way she tackles all kinds of comedic notions, even if she’s not 100% researched (famously, at Robin Ince’s “Nine Carols and Lessons for Godless People” gig she embarked on a piece of material about the philosopher David Hume and ended up arguing with a heckler about whether Hume was an atheist or agnostic), and then comes back with something as silly as a list of alien themed films she would like to see (such as “aliens come down to Earth, and no-one is particularly bothered”).

Lucy Porter: She sets you up to think she’s sweet & innocent, but underneath all that is a deviate mastermind.  She’s a cute & insightful feelgood performer who I can’t help but love.  Her best routine that I’ve seen was at Robin Ince’s “A Night Of 400 Billion Stars and maybe a bit of string theory” gig, where she read out a love poem she’d written at the age of 14 to a boy at her school, which used most of the chemical elements in the periodic table.

Milton Jones: A howitzer of one-liners – the kind of pull-back-and-reveal observations that Steven Wright wryly delivers, mixed in with some chronic puns.  Jones is relentless.  And ludicrous.  I’m a massive fan of the silliness and logic which make his jokes work, always delivered with a slightly manic and discomforting stare and perfectly timed stilted pace.

Robin Ince: Fast building a reputation for himself as the Bob Geldof of science-based comedy (except with better hygiene and a wider selection of brown cardigans), Ince is one of my favourite circuit comics – as well as being the only one on this list I’ve bought more than 6 beers for.  His shows (that I’ve seen so far) usually wander about amid science, religion, and his outrage about the bullshit that gets put over on TV masquerading as news – the underlying message I think being “find things out for yourselves! read! think!”.  Ince also curates geek-comedy showcases, such as the two large shows mentioned above, as well as the more frequent “School for Gifted Children” nights which are part comedy gig, part public lecture – but such a refreshing change to being in a Jongleurs club with comedy geared at pissed-up lads on a stag do.

Stewart Lee: The 41st best standup comic in the world, Lee’s dry and considered delivery passed me by the first time (although the Albert Hall probably isn’t the best environment for this sort of thing).  I really enjoy his use of repetition, and labouring a joke, making you wonder just how far he’s prepared to go with something.  He also gained some noteriety for being the co-creator of “Jerry Springer: The Opera” – the most complained about programme the BBC has ever screened, with the bulk of the complaints coming in before it had even been screened.

Tim Minchin: As if I haven’t raved about Timmy enough – the wild-haired Australian singer/songwriter is easily a musical prodigy in his own right, but combine his intellectual & insightful songs with that and you can see why he’s getting so much attention these days.  His rise to fame seems somewhat meteoric, and after the geniusness of “inflatable You” and “Rock And Roll Nerd”, he cruised through the difficult second-album-syndrome with “So F*cking Rock” (can’t fault a dude who can rhyme “the story of Moses” with “error in the booking process”) and the more Tom Lehrer-esque “F Sharp”, and then came storming back with third album masterpieces “Confessions”, “If I Didn’t Have You” (below), and hopefully hasn’t peaked too soon with 9 minute beat poem about a dinner party encounter with an alternative hippy type and the resultant refusal to listen to her thinly justified yet forthright nonsense, “Storm”.  Man, that’s the WORST description of Minchin’s work anyone’s ever written, I think.

And there isn’t time to refine any of this, because if I don’t post it now then it won’t be Tuesday any more.  There’s no point in having Top Ten Wednesdays – it doesn’t work alliteratively.  It’s the only poetic device I can remember from Year 10 English godammit, and I’m gonna use it.

Top Ten Tuesday: Super Powers

Having super powers is just the best thing ever.  Well, it would be, I guess.  I’m told that I possess the actual super power of being able to innately introduce complication to journeys, and I’ve always suspected I’ve got some kind of time dilation field following me around…  but for the sake of this week’s Top Ten I figured I’d list 10 super powers which I’d like to have.

10. The ability to be able to transform oneself into a shower curtain.

Admittedly this would purely be for pervy reasons, and of course would also involve a certain amount of stealth/ninja ability in order to gain entrance to the person’s bathroom in the first instance.  You couldn’t pop in to visit a really hot chick and then nip into the bathroom & transform, because she’d probably be more preoccupied with figuring out where the person she’d just left in the living room had gotten to than about popping in for a quick nude frolic under some warm water.

9. Being able to turn water into beer.

Without all the pratting about that the homebrew process involves, I mean.

8. Flying.

Although I wasn’t picturing the whole “zooming about like Superman” schtick – it’d most likely be more like the kind of flying I used to dream about, which was more like swimming through the air.  You could quite easily clear a house, or a set of powerlines, but I don’t think it falls into the “leaping tall buildings with a single bound” category.  Ultimately valuable for saving time travelling because you’ve only got to travel “as the crow flies” and not bother with corners.

7. Being able to transport yourself to a road in another place with the same name as the one you are now on but only if you can get moving really quickly.

Hmm, another transport one.  It popped into my mind because I was on Regent Street the other day, and I remembered that there’s another street called Regent Street not far from my parents’ place in Adelaide.  It’d therefore be intriguing if somehow these two were linked in some way, and a person who achieved the correct velocity (akin to Marty McFly’s 88 mph) and possessed the power to do so could zip from one to the other in the blink of an eye.  Of course you’d be screwed if in the meantime somebody renamed the road you were planning to use, but then Google Maps would more than likely help you find handy substitutes.  Another problem might be deceleration at the other end in the case that the road you’re zipping over to was a lot shorter than the one you started from.

6. Being able to sense the history of an object by smooshing it up against your face.

I’m always fascinated by old stuff, and wonder how cool it might be to be able to see some of the things an ancient object might have seen (e.g. a brick in the wall of a medieval walled city, or a Viking broadsword).  I’ll freely confess that this one made my wishlist after I’d seen it on 80’s TV show “The Greatest American Hero”.  Plus you’d be able to tell for certain whether the pen/stapler/copy of Led Zeppelin IV was yours originally and someone had nicked it from your desk/shelf, as you secretly suspected…

5. It’d be neat to be able to concentrate on another person within line of sight and be able to communicate with them directly into their brain, without having to speak.

Sort of a form of telepathy, but with limitations.  Primarily I’d have liked this power around early August – I could have used it to ask out Mystery Sandwich Girl!

4. Some sort of time dilation bubble.

Something like the ability to concentrate really hard to slow time down for other people in a certain area, such that I could appear to get more done in the same span of time.  The chief application of this would, I’m sorry to say, be to counteract the current time dilation around me which takes place in the opposite direction.

3.  Queue clairvoyance.

To glance at a collection of queues and intuit correctly which one will result in the shortest waiting time.

2. To be able to communicate with anyone in any language by speaking English in the accent of whatever language you were trying to talk to.

Yes.  I wish that real life were exactly like ‘Allo ‘Allo.  The only problem of course is that – assuming you were the only person who had this power – you would never be able to do impressions of foreign accents again to your friends, as they’d hear you in the language of the country whose accent you were speaking in.

1. The power to make people who stop right in front of you when you’re walking along spontaneously combust.

It makes total sense, truly – if someone’s walking along directly in front of you, and then stops dead still, just to be able to point at them and have them vaporise into a little green globule would be about the best thing ever.  I’m not on for the wholesale vaporisation of people, but come on – stopping abruptly (unless the person in front of them has stopped abruptly) is just inexcusable.

Pretty kickarse list, eh?

Top Ten Tuesday: Best gigs I’ve been to since 2000

nd to accompany the narrowing down of a broad topic into a selection of the top 10, the caveats come rolling.  In this case, “gig” means a performance by a singer or band, and excludes comedy shows or musicals.  Not that you’d really call musicals “gigs”.  These aren’t in order of preference, incidentally – it was hard enough picking out which 10 to have in the list at all. Anyway, here goes:

Weird Al Yankovic @ Thebarton Theatre (about 2003 I think?)

It’s a rare event that a global superstar comes to Adelaide, but when I heard accordion-playing parody artist of Legend Weird Al Yankovic was doing a gig I must’ve been on that phone like a greyhound out of a trap, because we got 3rd row seats.  A classy, slick, detailed show from end to end – loads of costume changes for context, and a really happy buzz from one end to the other – the building was packed solid with nerd & geeks, all frothing with joy in the fact that our idol had come to little ol’ Adelaide.  Of course, if anyone had bombed that building then it would have taken the entire city months to train up new IT staff.

WeirdAl

Still funny-lookin, even without the moustache

Harry Connick Jr @ Birmingham (17th Nov 2007)

Catrin & I, after planning to leave London about midday, set off around 5pm following an epic doctor cock-up on her side and some A-class Tube faffery on mine, and had to drive like a pair of some sort of species of flightless bats with opposable thumbs and knowledge of vehicle operation, out of hell.  Errm, to make it to Birmingham in time for the gig, I mean.  Totally worthwhile though (and we only missed the first song) – Harry’s an amazing and warm performer, and takes an incredibly talented ensemble with him.  The room swung out all night, punctuated by the occasional soulful croon.  At one point he hauled a guy up on stage who had asked over email if Harry would help him propose to his girlfriend, only when the moment arrived it turned out the idiot hadn’t brought a ring, because he’d assumed there was no way it would ever actually happen.  Cue lots of giggling and silly behaviour, and a personalised performance of “It Had To Be You”.

I’d seen Harry once before, back in 2000 or so at the Adelaide Entertainment Centre, but I think this gig was better.  Plus Symphony Hall’s a really nice room.

Row E - close enough to spot a quivering nostril

The Pink Floyd bit of Live 8 (2nd July 2005)

Paul the Dodgy Aussie had a spare ticket to Bob Geldof’s massive musical campaign to blimming well make the G8 leaders sit up and take notice and end African poverty through the medium of getting many many rock acts from the past and present to play their hit songs to crowds of people all over the world (aka Live 8).  And as the final act of the day was announced to be a historic reforming of PINK FLOYD, he bestowed the honour of ticket ownership on me (as well as the fact that the girl whose pants he was trying to get into already had one).

It was a long day, and not every aspect of it was thoroughly enjoyable (Dido, UB40, Mariah Carey, Travis, Snow Patrol, Keane for example).  There were some pleasing box-tickers: bands I was happy to see but wasn’t likely to fork out that sort of money or bother getting into the ticket melee for (Madonna, U2, REM, Elton John, Robbie Williams).  But the Money-shot was the appearance of Waters, Gilmour, Wright, Mason & friends, in a tight set of 4 songs (Breathe, Money, Wish You Were Here, Comfortably Numb) which were possibly the most amazing concert performance I’ve seen anywhere, ever.

Just magic.

The most sought-after ticket of 2005

Nine Inch Nails @ O2 (15th July 2009)

A stadium rock gig so hard that it was properly awesome, and almost took mind off the stadium component. And I was extremely impressed with the amount of guitar throwing.

Robert Plant & Strange Sensation @ Hammersmith Palais (4th Dec 2005)

This was the first time I’d seen Robert Plant live (which I’ve since done 4 further times – at Somerset House with Strange Sensation again, Wembley Arena with Alison Krauss, standing outside the Albert Hall waiting to go in to the Zappa Plays Zappa gig, and standing on my front doorstep in Camden), and if there was any suggestion that he was a musical has-been then it was obliterated by this gig.  I was impressed by every aspect of the night, and were there to be ranking in this top ten this would be toward the zenith.

Hammersmith Palais ain't there any more

Bobby McFerrin @ Barbican (21st May 2007)

Kat, HC & Paul the Dodgy Aussie joined me once again, this time to London’s Barbican Hall to see vocal improv-meister Bobby McFerrin & Friends.  Nabbing 3rd row seats gave the venue a nice intimacy, as well.  I find it very hard to write about McFerrin without over-cranking the enthusiasm handle – I’m awestruck by his ability to create rich & interesting musical tapestries from thin air, using only a microphone and an impressive range of vocal techniques.  But more than that – he’s a personable performer who you can tell genuinely loves what he does, and loves collaborating with new performers to create once-off experiments.

And no, he doesn’t sing “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” any more.

Still haven't figured out how one can be on floor -1

Dream Theater @ Hammersmith Apollo (24th Oct 2005)

This one was from the basket entitled “bands I’d gone to see without having heard anything they’d done, but purely on the strength of having heard Spiro, Greg and the lads raving about them“.  Hence it felt even odder to be in the 2nd row – a bit like Richard Dawkins sitting up front at the crowning of Pope Benedict.  Extremely glad I went though – DT are a hard-working group of extraordinarily talented musicians, playing vastly complicated and intricate music with precision and cohesion like I’ve seldom seen.  And on top of that, the music is just great.  If you’re into prog metal.

2nd row, center - fan country

Spinal Tap @ Wembley Arena (30th June 2009)

Again, not too much on this one because I only just wrote about it, but seeing mockumentarians St Hubbins, Tufnel and Smalls live in concert was a dream come true.  And anyone who has a favourite Tap song left without disappointment, because they played pretty much their entire song repertoire, as well as being their own support act as The Folksmen.

Eschewing fire effects for reasons of wig safety

New Model Army @ Astoria (17th Dec 2004)

Finally relenting to agree to going to see one of Richie’s black-clad misery bands, turned out that though I couldn’t quite put my finger on their genre initially I really really got a kick out of seeing veteran post-punk rockers New Model Army.  The music was mainly fast, full-on & furious, with passionate singing along from the crowd, and lots of forming of human towers and some bizarre arm movements which are NMA fans’ signature.  In fact, I liked them so much I’ve seen them at least 4 more times since then.

Ticket features hidden picture of sailboat

Lynyrd Skynyrd @ Brixton (31st May 2009)

Another recent performance, which I summed up as initially a box-ticking exercise, but when it all started happening it turned out to be so much more.

Not a vowel in sight

And if you reckon picking out 10 was easy, it wasn’t.

Top Ten Tuesday: t-shirts

T-shirts kick ass.  I love them.  I have several.  Here are my ten current favourites.  Am not 100% convinced about the order, but it’s a decent approximation.

1. It’s a real shame that torsopants.com didn’t pull through and got absorbed into it’s much ruder mothership, tshirthell.com.  I mean, they still make funny shirts, but one feels ever so slightly nervous wearing them in public.

Land Seahorse (from the former Torsopants site, now absorbed back into tshirthell.com). Silly, to the point of absolute irrelevance...

2. This one’s a bit of an in-joke for viewers of the awesome, awesome American sit-com, 30 Rock.  On the back it bears the claim “Not polluting rivers since 1997”.  Having worn this out and about, however, it’s clear to me that 30 Rock isn’t quite as popular here as I think it ought to be.

Sheinhardt Wig Company (official NBC merchandise)

3. This one turned up in a t-shirt shop in Reykjavik, and I thought it was funny enough to break with my “no buying t-shirts with just plain words on them” rule.  Which I obviously adhere to, obviously.

Cheap Ninja Costume

4. Ampelmann is the little green dude on the traffic lights from the former East Germany, who has been kept in many places as a link to some of the cultural past of those regions.  I just like his hat.

AMPELMANN!

5. Despite how many people point and gasp inaccurately, “MIGHTY MOUSE!”, this is still a favourite.  DM is part-legend, part-klutz, and having a shirt with his face on has become one of my Must Do tasks.  This is the original one, which is getting a bit dog-eared now.  The replacement blue one is on the shelf too, but this greeny/khaki one still has a bit of life left in it.

Danger Mouse

6. Sid James, of the Carry On film series, is the quintessential Dirty Old Bastard with the filthiest-sounding laugh ever recorded in any medium.  And what better to commemorate his work than by wearing around an image of him astride a bicycle.

Sid James on bike

7. Many years of dedicated searching finally paid off the discovery of this gem, which as any Spinal Tap enthusiast can tell you, is an exact representation of the inside of their body.  Aaah, and it is green.  Because you know how your blood is, like, purple…

Nigel Tufnel green skeleton

8. Can’t argue with the sentiment, can you?  CAN YOU?!

Stuff is awesome!

9. Ever since the age of 14 I’ve had a Save Ferris t-shirt, in homage to one of the greatest films ever made.  I’m not up to about my 5th one.  The first one I bought off a dude called Tim who used to hang out with us down at the bowling alley.  The second one I bought off a rack somewhere after a door handle tore a hole right through the Ferris quotation on the back (“I asked for a car, I got a computer – how’s THAT for being born under a bad sign?”).  The second one I traded with a girl in New York City for another t-shirt (wasn’t gonna say yes, be she was so goshdarned friendly), so I had to buy a third one, which disintergrated one day after I’d ridden my bike in to work in the rain with it on, and when I went to pull it over my head all that came away in my fingers was the neckband.  By this time they were becoming quite hard to find, so I set up a Cafepress store to make new ones.  Must be almost time for number 6.

Save Ferris

10. Any self-respecting computer nerd who’s not familiar with Randall Monroe’s excellent stick-figure comic should take a good hard look at themselves.  It’s consistently beyond excellent.

Science: It works, bitches

So that’s the t-shirt top ten!

Top Ten Tuesday: Beers

Though the aftermath from Saturday night has me shaking slightly at the idea of doing a beer top ten, it’s as good a topic to tackle as any…  It’s an extremely tough call, as always, and I can’t wait to read the email protests of “Wait a minute, what about [X]??”.

So many memories. And so few memories.

So many memories. And so few memories.

  1. Little Creatures Pale Ale: 5.2% fruity, zesty pale ale, brewed at one of my favourite places in the world: Fremantle, Western Australia.  Added to this, the brewery’s one of my favourite places in the world to chill out, and I’ve had the joy of doing that with a couple of my favourite people in the world (Morgs & Kris!).  But the beer’s bloody lovely, and I could drink it all day.
  2. Coopers Dark Ale: 4.5% roasty ale which turns into delicate aftertaste quite quickly and leaves you wanting another.  Sadly, a bit on the tricky side to find in the UK although not impossible.  Memorable Dark Ale moment with Richie & Marty: “whaddya reckon – would the empty bottles from a whole carton of Dark Ale stretch the entire length of that gutter up there?”.  The only way to find out was to drink the whole lot, and as it happens I can’t recall what the answer was.  Or whose house it was.
  3. Coopers Original Pale Ale: 4.5% top-fermented pale ale in the Burton-on-Trent style, best drunk with the sediment re-suspended in the beer (to give it the familar cloudy appearance).  The Cooper Family’s finest is definitely my all time favourite hot weather quaffer, whilst also a nice sipping beer for when you’re sitting around chinwagging.  It goes well with most food, and come to think of it I can’t think of a circumstance where I’d turn one down in favour of something else.  It’s a little bit fruity – not nearly as much so as it’s stronger cousin Coopers Sparkling Ale – and to me it’s every bit how a beer should taste.
  4. Timothy Taylor’s Landlord: 4.3% pale ale from Yorkshire.  A well-kept pint of this stuff is absolutely bulletproof, and few keep it as fine as young Jeffrey at The Gunmakers.  It’s hoppy in all the right places, has a nice aftertaste that doesn’t wear out its welcome, and for me evokes all the right memories of a bottle of Little Creatures.  That’s probably the world’s most pointless description of a beer ever, but I means it.
  5. Cairngorm Tradewinds: 4.3% Scottish beer which consistently ladles in the awards – I first discovered this during my inaugural Great British Beer Festival trip back in 2005.  Another fruity/citrusy brew, but also with a bit of Elderflower in there as well.  The sort of beer which when you encounter it on tap you feel like you could easily drink all night, but typically only find at beer festivals, where the goal is to try as many different beers as possible.
  6. St Austell’s Tribute: the 4.2% Cornish Supreme Champion is another fruity/zesty drop (can anyone see a pattern forming here ?), but is very well balanced and retains malty, biscuity flavours before drying out into the aftertaste.
  7. Franziskaner Hefeweizen: 5% Munich stunner.  The first weizenbier I ever tried, courtesy of German Beer Month at the Kent Town Hotel in 199something.  The selection process was me pointing at the bottle with the little picture of the monk-dude on the front, and sampling the amazing clovey sweet flavour, which I could never track down afterwards because I didn’t know what the words on the front were or what type of beer it was (other than “German”).  Then, by happy coincidence, years later in a pub up the road from me I was queued up deliberating over what tipple to imbibe, and I SAW THE MONK RIGHT THERE ON THE TAP!  So it was a happy reunion.  Apparently the Pope likes it too.
  8. Brew Dog Paradox: 10% Imperial Stout, aged in whisky barrels.  The stout’s a rich, smooth, toasty bit of liquid velvet, and the flavour is noticeably but not distractingly tempered by whatever the whisky is that’s been used.  I’ve tried the first batch (Islay, in the old-style packaging) and then the subsequent Speyside… have now lost track of where they’re up to.  The peatiness of the Islay barrel was definitely present, although not as in-your-face as a rauchbier or as any of the Islay beers made using peated barley (which border on undrinkable).
  9. Schneider Weisse Aventinus: 8.2% doppelbock; a nice intruguing dark dessert-in-a-bottle, which combines nice elements of wheat beer with chocolatey, fruity, raisiny, caramelly notes and packs a misleading wallop, as HC and I have found out every time we’ve snapped up one of these.
  10. Crown Lager: I kid! I kid!
  11. Sierra Nevada Pale Ale: another top fermented pale ale, this time 5.6%.  Surprise, surprise – citrussy, hoppy, fruity & floral flavours, again reminiscent to my palate of Little Creatures.  Must do a side-by-side of these some time.  Quite commonplace in London pubs, bars & restaurants, although can be disproportionately pricey.  Liz & I were drinking these at The Sloaney Pony for my birthday, and I think they weighed in at about £5.60 a pint.

Again, I feel like I’ve somehow missed something.  Oh well.

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