Me and Betty go way back to the evening in the early 80’s she released me from the cabinet Chuck and Di kept me in; as she lifted my gimp hood and removed the bit I knew I was safe at last.
“F1,” she said enigmatically. I responded that I’m not really a big motor sport fan; she snapped: “no, peasant…pants off and Eff One.” Oh, I realized, this was another beast altogether.
As the weeks dragged into months we developed something of a more, if not completely, equal relationship as I taught Phil how to, finally, give this [then] septuagenarian a PROPER orgasm (using nothing more than the spittle from one of her Corgis and the narrow end of a bottle of Bombay Gin).
{I should note, these memories stem from the peak of my use of powerful psychedelics.}
My first visit to Tap and Barrel is chronicled at https://1pumplane.wordpress.com/2011/03/07/tap-and-barrel-swindon/ . However, if you do venture there in person, seek out Magda, six feet of eastern european heat…word-to-the-wise.
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Note: this was cross-posted with 100 Yellow Beers due to the absolutely ridiculous nature; sorry, but I felt like I had gotten back to the writing roots and hated to waste it on my, erm, “friends.” Plus, someone might actually read it here.
The Endless British Pub Crawl 