Has Ticking become too Easy?
Has ticking become too easy? Listen to Sausage's latest Chronicle where he interviews the bald, fat, super twat Prescotti about ticking in the olden days vs. ticking today. Have CAMRA beer festivals made it too easy? and is it really that hard to find a beer in Budapest. I tend to think not, but Prescotti struggled.... Why, because he doesn't speak the language even though 90% of them speak English, I guess they struggle to understand his ridiculous thicko Northern Accent.
Thanks Sausage for the scoop (no pun intended) on this interview.
Download the latest Chronicle here.
Thanks Sausage for the scoop (no pun intended) on this interview.
Download the latest Chronicle here.
posted by Tim at
Friday, October 02, 2009
12 Comments:
Cue comment from that ticker Barry. Bazza, we don't care what you and your ticker mates think mate. Tim & Sausage are legends.
Have a bath and a shave ticker scum.....
I assume that "Fatman" is one of the Camra national executive as his name suggests he looks like most of them, especially the women. And he seems to be under the same illusions that little timmy is that tickers are some strange beardy race with bad hygeine... look, fatters, it's patently obvious you don't know any tickers and probably don't even know what one is...
See, Timmy, that's why you're a nobody blogger and I'm in films and suchlike - you know fuck all. Finding a BEER in Budapest was easy, but you fail to understand that I want to find GOOD beer which I'll enjoy. In words you might understand, "strewth, mate, this fosters is piss. pass me a Coopers"; see how it works?
And, when you say 90% speak English, you've never been out of the tourist centre have you? The places we went NOBODY spoke English... but that'd be too scary for spineless veg like you, you'd rather stay in the centre and pay 10 times more for pissy multinational lager. I can read you like a book...
And the Northern accent is a thing of great beauty. How anyone from Australia can criticize ANY other accent is just a joke, I hope you were being ironic there! Fuck, even scousers sound better than Aussies.
Keep it coming, loving it!
The fest was a bit lacking but still got one or two decent ticks,so musn't grumble. Prob see some of you guys later.
Grace and peace to you from him who is, and who was, and who is to come, and from the seven spirits before his throne, and from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, the firstborn from the dead, and the ruler of the kings of the earth.
To him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood, and has made us to be a kingdom and priests to serve his God and Father—to him be glory and power for ever and ever! Amen.
Look, he is coming with the clouds,
and every eye will see him,
even those who pierced him;
and all the peoples of the earth will mourn because of him. So shall it be! Amen.
bob im not sure what you are trying to say.is it that jesus loves us all and we should live in peace and all that sort of shit.if so i think you are on the wrong blog.
Haha, you ticker are hilarious. Go collect some stamps somewhere else. why you are at it, why don't you polish your model trains.
@Gazza said you know fuck all. - thanks. Obviously I am worthy to have a movie star such as yourself trolling my blog.
Christ's love cannot stop you from staying in The B&B Prescotti. A majestic track of the forcing of one's will. My neighbor had to perform an exorcism after I wrote the lyrics. It was heavy.
Now now, timmy, don't get upset. Not so funny when the boot's on the other foot, is it?
See, Timmy, that's why you're a nobody blogger and I'm in films and suchlike - you know fuck all.
Bit rich coming from the bloke who claims that oxygen is necessary for conditioning beer. I'd say its you who knows fuck all if you don't know that oxygen is the cause of oxidisation and staling.
May I just ask how many casks of real ale you've cellared? Not many, I'd bet. If you'd actually done this activity for real then you'd know that exposure of the beer to oxygen is what makes a good real ale a great real ale.
Obviously, you're bang on with the oxidisation and after a certain time the beer will turn, but how long do you think a cask will be on for? Three or four days, no longer, spiled to atmosphere and you've got proper cask ale. Exclude the atmosphere and you have green, juvenile beer.
Sorry, that's just how it works in the real world.
It doesnt matter how many casks I have cellered. Even when conditioning a cask you don't expose it to air. As the cask is under positive carbon dioxide pressure no air is going to get in until a pint of beer is pulled and air moves in to replace the drawn off beer. This happens after conditioning (unless you sell underconditioned beer). Oxygen plays no part in the conditioning of beer at all, and staling starts immediately after beer comes into contact with it. I maintain that you don't know shit.
BTW - I put moderation on as this isn't the place to discuss what beers were on at the [insert Northern shithole town here] CAMRA beer festival. Oh and as I was getting a whole lot of spam that was originating from Worcester. But you wouldn't know anything about that?
This is my Stairway to Heaven. Prescotti plays a Phantom of The Opera type Scooper creep. Sometimes it's best to communicate through various tracks.
http://myspacefilehosting.com/lmaml/The_B&B_Prescotti%28Goth_Mix%29.mp3.html
On a dual carriageway, cask ale on my mind Lovely aromas of Nargis Kebabs such a one of kind
to the side of the road, I saw a bald bloke wearing a Rancid t-shirt
He had a lovely head of bone and said stop now sonny before you get hurt.
He led me up a pathway, I met a bloke who said his name was Bell
I said, "What the fuck is this place, reminds me of the Bates Motel" Bell said I bit off more than I could chew Then I was handed a notepad, and a 3rd of a pint of some brew
Welcome to the B&B Prescotti
Such a scooper place
(such a scooper place)
You'll be bunking down at the B&B Prescotti Don't you fear
We've got plenty of beer
His mind is bitter and twisted, dark side of the scooper appears
Thought it'd be better to open a goth B&B then scoop in Tangiers
And how the scoops keep coming for another day Some scoop to remember, some scoop just to play
So I rang up Prescotti
Please bring me something other than a third He said "my rules sonny, just scoop it you fucking turd And how I'm scoopin like I said I never would Is he really a bastard, or is he just misunderstood?
Welcome to the B&B Prescotti
Such a scooper place
(such a scooper place)
You'll be bunking down at the B&B Prescotti
Don't you fear
We've got plenty of beer
I woke up in a cold sweat, my bollocks taped to my thigh
The bastard laughed, and said wait 'til you try the steak and kidney pie All the scoopers came 'round to milk my teats
They were thinking I was a portable tap, but that would be quite a feet.
It was nearly December, I shat myself in fear
It felt like an eternity drinking those fucking third pints of beer.
Relax said Prescotti, I've got something special for you
Your bollocks wrapped in pita or would you like them in a stew?
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