The Endless British Pub Crawl Goes Fourth
Pubs (2678 so far), runs, and personal obsessions of an aging scientist
As a teenager — I am not proud of this fact but at least it is now many decades ago — I’m sure I used the argument that a reasonable cure for this syndrome would be to just pop them in your mouth for a bit. Apparently, someone in marketing had a similar idea:
It takes 2 to Tango. Note, despite the outward appearance this is a snack package and not a condom wrapper.
“Ce n’est pas une banque du soutiens-gorge.”
This powerful work of surrealism was not the only art on display, yesterday. There was also this nice sculpture of a nurse by Steve Yeates:
Have a nicer weekend than the Defendant in Chief is going to.
We hiked over to a discount store near The Hawthorns to pick up some picture frames and gardening implements and storage containers and shit. Or, rather, Jackie went for that and I went to see if the graffito of DaLizz, above, survived the round of maintenance going on related to the tram closure for the Dudley Street bridge rebuild and connecting the line to the new, westward branch.
I spotted the new artwork the last day the trams ran (22 March) and was excited but confused over where this had come from. Cheech Wizard, which featured the Lizard Apprentice, was a comic strip in National Lampoon in the 70s — before most of our local spray painters (or, indeed, their parents) were born. Like the Berberis darwinii we identified along the way (mistaken at a distance for some native gorse), it is an invader from the New World. (As Dorothy Parker pointed out, you can lead a horticulture but you can’t make her think.)
A lot of the graffiti between Wednesbury and Kenrick Park has been obliterated during the maintenance. Monday on my way home from the Coach and Horses after a bit of tramway recon north of our buurt, I was reminded of the urgency to document the tag by the little amphibian which confronted me in the swampy bit of Oakwood Park:
It’s alright. You should listen to it.
Bonus joke: How many pickers does it take to change a light bulb? Four: one to change the bulb, one to suck his teeth dismissively, another to stare at the floor shaking his head, and one more to say, “it ain’t the way Earl woulda done it.”
…but, I’m bound to…etc. (Apologies to Mr. Dylan.)
…and, more to the point, not worth your time seeking. As of the publication date for this particular entry, 29 February 2024, the sole visitor to this site has been Jackie to see how it looks on a different browser. You may, in fact be the first real visitor and for that I humbly apologise.
Anyway, got a notice from this guy — probably a bot — requesting access to this new version of the old blog(s). 1. If I don’t know you then you found it on your own. 2. If I don’t know you then I’m not responding to you. 3. This Twitter page seems to belong to the same entity making the request:
==================
Anyway, here are the details of the ‘request’ (ChatGPT does know how to push my buttons):
Name: Lee John
Email: cornisle_1@xxxxx.com [ed. note: eerily similar to Twitter handle]
Comment: I have been following the blog for some time having a particular interest in that I originate from Birmingham and lived in Swindon Old Town 2007 – 2014 so I know many ofthe pubs and haunts. Plus I find the blog dry, witty and slightly misanthropic. I now live in Newcastle Upon Tyne and rarely visit Birmingham but remain an enthusiastic ex-pat. Hence – please let me carry on reading the blog!
Source: https://ebpc3.wordpress.com/contact
[Follow up 04 March, demonstrating that the EBPC Privacy Policy was not taken seriously]
Name: Lee john
Comment: Sorry, I should not have requested access to your blog. You can leave my stupid message up but please remove my email address, it is a genuine address and I am not a bot, just an interested reader. But please remove my email address.
And just for information that is not my twitter account.
You can watch this grow in real time at Donald Trump’s Debt Live Tracker.
The Endless British Pub Crawl Goes Fourth 