The Pub Experience

40 years ago I could go to my local pub, decide whether I wanted to go into the “posh” lounge or the cheap & cheerful bar. There would be no loud blaring music, no pub-grub, no TVs and their satellite TV stations, no kids, no wimminz breastfeeding in front of all and sundry; a friendly staff behind the bar, good choice of traditional beers…. and generally a good, relatively inexpensive night!

These days it will really is a joke – the old traditional pubs are long gone, either closed down due to lack of business, or converted into trendy gastro pubs. You walk into a pub these days and its like been at an amusement arcade combined with a disco – blaring music, shite food, screaming fucking kids running around all over the fucking place; expensive watered-down beer, hipsters fondling their beard and wimminz drinking pints of lager!

There’s no more bar/lounge either; just one big room full of cunts shouting and screaming over the noise of the music from the jukebox, or from the TV commentary of a football game.

And going to the pub with your mates and buying a round often involves taking out a bank loan to pay for it all. (That’s assuming you can attract the attention of the feisty tuppance-licker behind the bar)

I sometimes feel trying to negotiate climbing Mount Everest a far more enjoyable experience than an evening spent in a boozer these days.

Nominated by: Technocunt

78 thoughts on “The Pub Experience

  1. Fuck me, that link “music” on GB News is really getting on my tits! So much so I now have to mute the sound between items.

    It’s the same irritating shite my GP surgery pumps down the phone while they keep me on hold for half an hour awaiting the pleasure of one of their useless receptionists, fer Christ sake…

    Change the fucking record you cunts!

  2. Country pubs more my thing but was always more of a treat than a regular experience. My local country pub has a Michelin star, not cheap. Used to go now and then to socialise the dogs and just have a nice quiet time. Nice staff, nice drinks, nice food, nice garden. Open fire. Not really full of people. Chatty in the bar area. Chesterfield sofa. Aaahh.

    Not interested in going if I have to use an app to get in or use a mask to go for a pee. Last went to a pub in 2019.

  3. 78 minutes to go until Freedom Day!

    No more mask, though I will continue to social distance cos that’s always bin my default disposition with cunts I don’t know (and quite a few that I do).

      • No. Been arguing for lockdown restrictions to be fully lifted since April.

    • I was just making light of the situation. It has been an arduous journey for to long but it looks like new waves are on call. We’re all in this together. I wish I was left alone without help from nanny.

      • Fuck pubs, I can happily sit at home with my fridge full of £1 a pint. I can smoke without offending some fat fucking woman who is probably drinking an orange squash. I used to love pubs in my younger days, but fuck all of them. Full of wankers.

  4. Great nomination. I think for me, it’s mostly kids that have killed it. I don’t mind kids, I was one once, but when I were a nipper, down at the Airman’s Rest, (RIP) it was the family room (awful) or outside in their vast and lovely garden to play for a couple of hours, out of sight of the drinkers who, like my grandad, would be inside playing the fruities while sinking four pints of best before driving us all home. His driving was shit anyway so no-one noticed. Anyway, I’m doing a Belfield, that wasn’t why you called. Kids. Down my local, the little ritalin-addled shits run amok, while the parents sit and get absolutely plastered. Woe betide anyone who has a quiet, reasoned word with the little cunts as you’ll have a fight on your hands. I’ve seen it. One lot even let their kids loose on the pool table, and crapped the barlady out when she told them it’s not for the use of unsupervised kids. “What are you, the fackin pleece or summat?”

    I have often wondered how it would go down if I went to their local playgroup on a weekday, sat in the corner of the room and got out a 4-can pack of Stella and started chugging it back. I could always follow the scummy parents’s example and drunkenly mumble “Ye fuckin’ wot, mate?” if anyone questions my behaviour.

    In addition another nail in the coffin was the smoking ban. Now I’ve never been a smoker, and fucking hate it, but now, rather than stink of nasty fag smoke, pubs now have the delightful and health-giving atmosphere of bleach and farts. I suppose at least it won’t give you a dose of Roy Castle Disorder.

  5. I had a mate who was a chef in a pompous ‘gastro pub’; the sort of place that served meals on roof tiles.
    There were rude customers one night so he wanked over their food; but he got caught.
    His boss let him off. He said we’ll forget it, just this once.

    They agree to wipe the slate clean….

  6. the last pub I went into, the regulars tutted and muttered i should not be smoking in the beer garden, because there are children there. FFS Pubs are for adults, and outdoors is the only place I can smoke, so they can go fuck themselves, and doubt the pub will be trading much longer, judging by the likes i had for my review, I am not alone

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