
...saw this title as a Facebook photo album and wondered whether my old haunt, the cross-legged, hook-nosed, broken-backed Butcher's Arms was finally giving up the ghost; twinged by the Weatherspoons (jackboot on every face etc), tossed to the door dogs... Oh well. Haven't been there for almost ten years; don't know what I'm moaning about. In the photo album there was certainly some people I recognise being there from years back ( Kek 'll know 'em) - some of the wreckers of civilization from a party that inadvertently shunted some [...]