This Fucking Beer's Green! I Know, It's Supposed To Be Green. I'll Drink It If You Don't Want It...

Back at fucking work again. I've just spent the last 9 days doing absolutely sweet fuck all except spending too much time in the pub, assaulting the eardrums of my neighbours, mainlining the usual huge quantities of music, films and books and trying to behave myself*. This weekend will be fondly remembered as green beer weekend. Because a lot of green beer** was consumed. When I say green, I don't mean that it was brewed using only organic ingredients (although it was), nor do I mean that it's all natural and lovely and unpasteurised (although it is). No, when I say green, I mean green as in the colour green, a deliciously dry and hoppy ale that happens to be a beautiful grassy green colour as well as being easier to drink than iced water in the desert. I can only apologise to the poor sods who are neighbours of the Quality Bureaux***. We understand that the sight of four obviously drug addled fools arseing around on the roof is not the most reassuring vista at half three on a sunday morning, but as my mate John pointed out, seeing a drunken twat standing on his roof doing air guitar (and bass) to Hatfield and the North**** actually makes a pleasant change to the normal saturday night sights in Croydon, i.e. fights, stabbings and the traditional Crown Point pitched battle/semi-riot which normally kicks off about 2am. Looked at in that light, getting drunk on green beer could almost be seen as a public service, albiet of a faintly nebulous and surreal bent, but fuck it, if we made one person laugh that can't be all bad can it?

*Not a hugely successful attempt, but then again, why break the habit of a lifetime?

**Spring Ale, can't remember the brewery, but you might find it in yr local fine ale emporium over the next few weeks.

***The real name of a friends house. Not an appropriate one tho considering his kitchen is much, much more untidy than mine. And smells of fish.

****Not actually a joke...