It’s all very well for you sturdy robust gentlemen.

It’s all very well for you sturdy robust gentlemen. You don’t have to contend with the paraphernalia of being a woman which makes sitting down an ESSENTIAL PART of enjoying the pub experience. For starters, I am often to be found wearing high heels and standing still in them for any length of time (i.e. more than 1 minute) is not much fun. Plus there’s the whole handbag / coat thing - if I’m standing up where am I going to put my coat? On the floor? Fine for you chaps with your ‘15.99 dark grey Uniqlo fleeces but what about us ladies with our more delicate garments? And no table / chair = nowhere to put my handbag adding a huge amount of extra strain to the whole drink holding / cigarette obtaining & lighting procedure. NOT TO MENTION the fact that wherever you stand in a pub you are going to be in someone’s way, meaning interrupted conversations, drink spillage and a number of other Pub Traumas.

I suggest Publoggers show a bit more consideration towards the lazier sex and focus on pubs where you can get a seat.

A quick point of order re- this whole etiquette thing.

A quick point of order re- this whole etiquette thing. Pete - a man so rude as to not remember a young lady’s name (it was Nicky) - did not in fact offer the bar stools to us laydeez but sat down with great speed and smugness. Tut tut.

Publoggers Deadly Sins No. 1: Not drinking.

Publoggers Deadly Sins No. 1: Not drinking. So in the midst of a pre / post Xmas / New Year fug I decided to quit drinking for the month of January. Then I chickened out and plumped for 2 weeks taking it one day at a time. Then I realised this was too AA and returned to Plan A. So for the whole of last month I touched not a drop of booze.

I still went into pubs and bought rounds. But I did it all sober. The first time I was in a pub I totally forgot the round which never happened when I drank proper drinks. The worst part of it was realising how rubbish pubs are at providing for non-drinkers, which I suppose is fairly logical, I mean gyms don’t make provisions for people without legs. I got heartily sick of sweet icky soft drinks. Fizzy drinks - too sweet and gassy; fruit juice - too acid; tomato juice - too Dot Cotton; lime and soda - yuck; water - too puritanical. Thank God I’m now back in the world of alcohol and white wine which was what my poor body craved for 31 long days. But now I am armed with a terrifying insight into the world of My Mates When Pissed, and I fear things will never be the same again…

Well it isn’t a pub

Well it isn’t a pub but I had a moment of great confusion in Hakkasan (posh restaurant off Tottenham Court Road - great location for a posh restaurant eh?). There were 2 doors, one with M and one with D. M is for Men, obviously, but what’s D for? Dames? Demoiselles? In actual fact it stands for Disabled. There was a third door I hadn’t seen with L on it. Maybe if I go back they will have an R for Retarded……..

Incidentally, the Ladies’ were so dark you could hardly see what you were doing (not that I get off on watching but this was ridiculous, you could barely see the bog roll). The Disabled bogs, on the other hand, were beautifully well lit.

On Anon

I must have done something really bad in a past life (or maybe in this life) as tonight I have to go to On Anon. As is always the case with having to go to dire places, it’s a work do. I have been there once before, on a family do. The bouncer almost refused me entry on the grounds that I was wearing trainers, but I managed to convince him they were in fact mules (bouncers know very little about ladies’ footwear, it would appear).

I lived to regret my powers of persuasion once inside. It is truly horrid. And its horridness is magnified by its size, all 8 ‘bar areas’ of it. I am amazed they even manage to fill one bar area but London fools and their money are soon parted. The only good thing I can think of to say about the place is that the toilets have minimum-wage attendants with lollies, perfume etc. which is nice when you are throwing up.

I am currently compiling a range of polite reasons why I have to leave early. Suggestions gratefully received.

Hmmm, my huge-round-buying generosity

Hmmm, my huge-round-buying generosity stimulated, no doubt, by the fact that it’s nearly my birthday and I’m trying to spread an air of bounty and largesse amongst my friends.

However the really impressive thing was the way I remembered the round which consisted of numerous different drinks and then proceeeded to distribute them correctly despite being well and truly vodka-ed up.

(Yes Pete does do laundry, thus explaining my emotional and psychological upset

(Yes Pete does do laundry, thus explaining my emotional and psychological upset at occasionally having to witness his underwear hanging around the flat. Rather than drying it in the fresh open air of our kitchen however he hangs it in the dark dank ‘airing’ cupboard to fester for months and to fall on my head when I attempt to put the hot water on).

Off to the pub now!

PUBGOERS DEADLY SINS: 1 : NOT GOING TO THE PUB

PUBGOERS DEADLY SINS: 1 : NOT GOING TO THE PUB

A public apology to John for not going to the pub last night. But hey, we’re young and healthy, there’s plenty more nights out in pubs to enjoy……….

Further Pubgoers Deadly Sins welcomed.

Hold the front page! Pete in hand-washing-in-pub-toilet shocker!

Hold the front page! Pete in hand-washing-in-pub-toilet shocker! I didn’t think men actually washed their hands in pub toilets. Or at all. I am pleasantly surprised…. and somewhat disbelieving.I would just add that in the absence of a roller towel (OK, not a single word but a perfectly acceptable phrase) or a hand dryer, wiping your wet hands on your trousers is de rigueur, unless you are wearing PVC trousers in which case it doesn’t work.

At least three people caught out on Friday night by the fake door at the

At least three people caught out on Friday night by the fake door at the Lord John Russell. Tee hee. Although as has been pointed out to me it is a real door just one that has been locked or glued up or whatever you do to doors to stop them opening.