True story

Yesterday I was on a pub treasure hunt (don't ask) which took is from the Murderers to the PoD via Ber Street. One clue was to be found on the bench on the little public garden bit outside the BSG. Trouble was, there was a foetid, stinking tramp sat on said bench. I had to engage in Norfolkese tramp chit chat to get him to move. On walking away, a fine upstanding member of the BSG staff emerged, and exchanged cans of unspecified weakpisslager in return for small coinage. Nice to know the establishment has standards of clientele that they let through their doors.

Posted By: Yellalee on September 24th 2010 at 20:54:36


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