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26-06-2012, 22:12
Visit the Shut up about Barclay Perkins site (http://barclayperkins.blogspot.com/2012/06/my-hols.html)
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Just back from Germany. Eleven days of drinking that liquidy stuff with the foam on top. And that alcoholly thing going on. Beer, that's the word.
A series of posts, recounting in tedious detail every last beer and impulse schnapps a poured into my poor tormented body, were planned. I even took notes.
But there's been a technical hitch. I hadn't screwed on the top of that bottle of impulse Obstler I grabbed in Salzburg station before getting on the train to Munich. I noticed the stain when I put my bag on the seat in Weisses Brauhaus. Then the smell. The heart-wrenching smell of spilled alcohol. I sobbed quietly through two beers.
Giving me an eau de pisshead air wasn't the only downside of my top-attachment laxity.
I'm an old-fasioned sort of chav. I wear spats, drink laudanum and have an aspidistra in my front window. Before every expedition into the Urwald of Lager, I prepare a printed guide. All the information - pub adresses, maps, bus timetable - in one place. The spaces inbetween I use for notes. None of this ticky-tacky digital shit for me.
I wouldn't put valuable information on a phone or tablet. Especially not when I'm hanging around in pubs. Too likely to get lost, broken, stolen, drenched in beer. Good old-fashioned paper is far safer. What can happen to that? No-one's going to nick it. And it can't get broken.
Not unless you drench it in schnapps.
I'll be working from memory. Poor fallible, distorted, fading memory.https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5445569787371915337-6005370704080624051?l=barclayperkins.blogspot.com
More... (http://barclayperkins.blogspot.com/2012/06/my-hols.html)
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Just back from Germany. Eleven days of drinking that liquidy stuff with the foam on top. And that alcoholly thing going on. Beer, that's the word.
A series of posts, recounting in tedious detail every last beer and impulse schnapps a poured into my poor tormented body, were planned. I even took notes.
But there's been a technical hitch. I hadn't screwed on the top of that bottle of impulse Obstler I grabbed in Salzburg station before getting on the train to Munich. I noticed the stain when I put my bag on the seat in Weisses Brauhaus. Then the smell. The heart-wrenching smell of spilled alcohol. I sobbed quietly through two beers.
Giving me an eau de pisshead air wasn't the only downside of my top-attachment laxity.
I'm an old-fasioned sort of chav. I wear spats, drink laudanum and have an aspidistra in my front window. Before every expedition into the Urwald of Lager, I prepare a printed guide. All the information - pub adresses, maps, bus timetable - in one place. The spaces inbetween I use for notes. None of this ticky-tacky digital shit for me.
I wouldn't put valuable information on a phone or tablet. Especially not when I'm hanging around in pubs. Too likely to get lost, broken, stolen, drenched in beer. Good old-fashioned paper is far safer. What can happen to that? No-one's going to nick it. And it can't get broken.
Not unless you drench it in schnapps.
I'll be working from memory. Poor fallible, distorted, fading memory.https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5445569787371915337-6005370704080624051?l=barclayperkins.blogspot.com
More... (http://barclayperkins.blogspot.com/2012/06/my-hols.html)