By continuing to use the site, you agree to our use of cookies and to abide by our Terms and Conditions. We in turn value your personal details in accordance with our Privacy Policy.
Please log in or register. Registered visitors get fewer ads.
For years I have always done the same, start at Weatherspoons, onto the White Horse and end up at the Sprinkbok (Queens Tavern) however the Springbok is just not what it used to be and the prices are insane, similar reason why I stopped drinking at The Green! Interested to know where you all drink and your thoughts on the Queens Tavern (sprinkbok)
used to be white horse for me but too many coke heads in there now so opt for the Conningham which isn't much better but usually easy to get served and they show all the football pre and post match on the big screen
1
Pub for next season on 14:04 - Jul 24 with 1669 views
used to be white horse for me but too many coke heads in there now so opt for the Conningham which isn't much better but usually easy to get served and they show all the football pre and post match on the big screen
I recall the day I decided to not bother with the white horse any more. We had lost 3-0 to Liverpool, I had proper given up hope for the season. I had a couple in the horse, and was trying to have a slash in the bogs with a lake of urine above the sole of my trainers and felt that it was seeping into my socks. Two blokes came in to this Lake Geneva of piss, and took out what I initially mistook for a fish supper, but was in fact most of the GDP of FARC, and commenced, almost comedic like throwing it into their faces.
It was Christmas so I was staying at my parents in Hillingdon, but the Oxford Tube was down due to an accident, so having waited for two hours, I decided to get the 207 back to Uxbridge, get off and walk 45 minutes home. It was about 3am by this point and I was so desperate I ended up having to pee in a passing bin.
Not all of it was the horse's fault, by it's my abiding memory of the place.
1
Pub for next season on 14:40 - Jul 24 with 1599 views
I recall the day I decided to not bother with the white horse any more. We had lost 3-0 to Liverpool, I had proper given up hope for the season. I had a couple in the horse, and was trying to have a slash in the bogs with a lake of urine above the sole of my trainers and felt that it was seeping into my socks. Two blokes came in to this Lake Geneva of piss, and took out what I initially mistook for a fish supper, but was in fact most of the GDP of FARC, and commenced, almost comedic like throwing it into their faces.
It was Christmas so I was staying at my parents in Hillingdon, but the Oxford Tube was down due to an accident, so having waited for two hours, I decided to get the 207 back to Uxbridge, get off and walk 45 minutes home. It was about 3am by this point and I was so desperate I ended up having to pee in a passing bin.
Not all of it was the horse's fault, by it's my abiding memory of the place.
Crikey robith, how fast was the bin going when it passed you?
By continuing to use the site, you agree to our use of cookies and to abide by our Terms and Conditions.
