The pub closest to my mother in law's in Wales is big into that stuff, casked bitters and ales. I recall being tipped off to ask especially for a pint from the back as opposed to the actual bar.
Vile. Welsh ****s.
If it is any consolation to you I had a bowl of corn flakes, some Haribos and a Mars bar with a glass of milk.
Fúck all to do with me.
Cold (flu for a man) then moved into a sinus infection, the tablets the medic prescribed appear to have fúcked her up badly in respect of nausea and lethargy.
Now, she is off to the Wales tomorrow leaving me with two kids for the weekend. The same weekend that our neighbours feel it appropriate to have the Annual Street Party from 6 - late, an event at which I have less than covered myself in glory in the past, last year for example taking a wee stumble and bringing the food table crashing to the ground. Bread, various sauces and salads all over the driveway (not mine!).
Does not bode well.