Back On A Bottle Of Dog.

 I think I told you before about my old work mate Mick from Dewsbury in West Yorkshire.  We helped build a nine hole golf course extension back in 1993.

Mick had just left Uni and we shared a great sense of northern self deprecating humour and he was the one who said to me that everyone was a Cockney south of Sheffield.  I have told you that one before.

I always wondered what happened to him?  I would love to have a drink of Newcastle Brown Ale with him again.  He told me that in Leeds they call Newcastle Brown in Leeds: a bottle of 🐕 dog.  

He called Lancashire folk and vice versa.  We realised that Lancashire and Yorkshire people dislike each other so much because they are so similar.  It's like the law of Physics:  opposites attract.  What a character.

Last night after a two week break from alcohol.  I decided to open the Newcastle Brown Ale presents number one son and his girlfriend brought me from Sainsbury's in Belfast:

On the eighth day God made Prog Rock and Newcastle Brown Ale.

I put it in the fridge for an hour or two.  Gosh it tastes good.  It's  a pity I can't get English bitter in West Cork any more. I blame Brexit.  

There's a certain off licence in Tralee that stocks it and brings it down from the north.  I think I might be due a trip? 🤔

Bill Wyman ex Rolling Stones said when he moved to France.  The one thing he missed was Piccalilli.  For me it's  Prog Rock, allotments, old Anglican churches and English bitter.

Are there any expats out there and what do you miss from Blighty?

I do not get a penny for my products advertising.  I just love English food and drink.  None of your UK nonsense.