You have good beer, good pies, good chips and maybe, on occasion, a throbbing machine between the thighs.
Fixed Wheel. It’s bostin. It certainly ain’t broke, so don’t fix it!
I’d like to feel the same about us Green Duck. The beginning of a long-lasting relationship between wench and brewery. Only this time there’s no need for a hand up the bum or a sad song.
I just have to find that (un)lucky beer loving Black Country mon to propose to me. All for the beer of course!
I was only disappointed with the lack of old bush, but there’s always another night.
Don’t judge us. You know you would too.
I have to admit I did stroke a number of the velour chairs while no one was looking.
I have to admit I didn’t immediately notice the nipple action. I was still salivating over the china dogs.
It’s really hard for Black Country pubs to improve on perfection, but serving bread and butter pudding is a noble effort.
Throwing your mate in at the deep end aren’t you?