Thorely You Can't Be Theriouth.

After troweling my face on and donning a pair of heels that could put you in hospital if you fell off them, a few mates and I hit the cafe culture on the seafront, last night.
Has to be done about once a month, just to remind oneself that yuppies do still exist.
So imagine my surprise, upon toppling into The Queen's Head, at finding a Gadds' beer available at the bar.
OMG, Frank hasn't bought our local brewery, has he?
Is nothing sacred? (rhetorical question, God botherers)
And it was a beer that I hadn't come across before, commemorating Operation Dynamo (everyone's getting in on that, aren't they), called Sea Shore Shell Shock.
I thought the name was borderline inappropriate, myself, but it was a stonkingly good pint and after a few of them, I did notice a faint ringing in my ears.

I could probably bang on about that for a while longer, but I suddenly feel the need for a hurried evacuation.