The last 36 hours have been some of the most knackering in a long time. And almost beer-free. Work, dontcha just love it?
But my spirits rose as soon as I entered my room. When I saw The Box on the desk. (This sounds like a reading primer: the box sat on the desk. The box is full of beer. Ron is happy.)
It's full of beer. Not just any beer. Fuller's 1910 X, AK and Porter. A couple of versions of Barclay Perkins X from WWI. Lichtenhainer. Graezer. 1850 Salvator. Barclay Perkins IBSt. And much more. I'm so excited.
There's a glass of Fuller's AK in front of me. I'm raising it in a toast to Kristen. Thanks mate. I don't owe you one. Not even a couple. I owe you several.
There Are No Good Arguments For Overpaying - Yesterday's light post--part of my only half-serious whinge series--provoked a surprising amount of very serious pushback. A few of the comments *appeared...
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