Well that’s if Elizabeth Bennett had a penchant for beer and scratchings, and managed to pull the drunkest person in the Black Country that is.
Who broke my heart in Brierley Hill?
So who broke my heart on Saturday night? Well it wasn’t the Dudley Beer Festival. Or the Dog & Partridge.
Not enough Old Bush
I was only disappointed with the lack of old bush, but there’s always another night.
Saturday slacker stumped in Sedgley and seduced by Sadler’s
Don’t judge us. You know you would too.
Ambling around Amblecote: a tale of two streets
I have to admit I did stroke a number of the velour chairs while no one was looking.
A bit of nipple and a surprise in the back
I have to admit I didn’t immediately notice the nipple action. I was still salivating over the china dogs.
Dame Barbara Cartland, I never thought I’d see you in a Halesowen boozer
It’s really hard for Black Country pubs to improve on perfection, but serving bread and butter pudding is a noble effort.
Black (Country) Friday: post election pints
Shouting ‘You can go your own way’ across the bar could be misconstrued as verbal abuse.
From an Old Growler to an Old Cat
You could bring your special wench or chap to this cosy corner and hold hands, with nothing but the ‘it’s always Christmas here snowman’ as gooseberry.
BLACK COUNTRY PUB 