please note - reviews on this site are purely the opinion of site visitors, so don't take them too seriously.
About 800 metres from Whitstable railway station this recently refurbished Shepherd Neame pub does good value lunchtime food and has a friendly group of locals. Beers Master Brew and Late Red.
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AHOY THERE!!!
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Does the "report this for removal" button work?
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Too true landormick . Let's keep humour and satire where it belongs ! .
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Trying to find some sensible info on this site about local Whitstable pubs, alas just this childlike drivel from this person calling himself LADHIMSELF.
Please, please keep this site for adults if poss.
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Yes lad, you are barred from the Wall. And a lot of Whitstabe pubs will follow. Village idiots are vaguely interesting - for a brief time, only.
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Vic, I don't think I'm barred from the Wall..I simply choose not to go there. Tomorrow night for curry? I've not had anyone confirm yet.
I will be at the Chris Difford show on Sat by the way if anyone fancies a jar beforehand. I'll probably be with my probabtion officer, Lady Lucinda-Smythe Jawdrop of Upper Flange in the marsh.
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See you on 020212 in the Wall Tavern. Good curry there, if you're not barred.
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Unless they do a curry night at the Coach and Horses?
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I think I'll take that as a compliment tradervic.
What exactly do you mean by 'mental issues'? Do you mean mental health issues? If so, I suspect we all of us have mental health issues at one time or other in our lifes.
For the record, I'm feeling quite chipper myself at the moment. Nowt wrong with me at the mo.
As for the plan to meet at JC on a Thursday curry night...can I suggest February 2?
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Lad ain't a bad bloke who competes with his mental issues - and fails....
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It was national Les Dennis Day, so I ventured to the Coach & Horses in search of liquid refreshment and a pillow upon which to rest my head for the night.
I was fortunate enough to chance upon the AGM of the Bobby Davro Donkey Sanctuary, although the great man himself was sadly not in attendance.
I got talking to a dusky maiden by one of the fruit machines. She was wearing DMs, a pink tutu and a Shaking Stevens T-shirt. I much admired her Arthur Askey tattoo, which took pride of place on her forehead. In short my kind of woman.
I said: Do you come here often?
She replied: I haven't looked lately.
I answered: I'll get me coat. You've pulled.
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so so
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He said to me: "Is that your top hat?"
I replied: "No, mine is at the dry cleaners. It was all stained."
He asked: ""Whose top hat is it then?"
I replied: "I dunno."
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For the record, I'm not barred from any pub in Whitstable. However there are several I wouldn't be seen dead in.
Let me know where you drink Randolf and I'll definitely give it a miss.
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Thanks for you words of support Tuna. Much appreciated.
There seems to be a bit of backlash forming against my good self.
Are we in the presence of a new puritanism?
I'll tell you this for nothing randolf old chap, it'll never catch on in Whitstable.
Tuna...I owe you a pint!
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No Tuna. He's barred from most pubs in the town - sadly, there's a computer in the library.
EVERY day in the Peter Cushing (unwashed)
Funny.....or sad?
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Or most amusing?.........
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Lad...BITE's most childish poster?
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Sitting in the snug were a group of Lesbians discussing the latest Jim Davidson stand-up dvd.
I walked in, stood tall and asked: "Plums half a pound, who wants em?"
I lthen eft...very, very quickly.
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Sitting in the snug were a group of Lesbians discussing the latest Jilly Cooper bonkbuster.
I walked in, stood tall and asked: "So what part of Lesbian do you come from?"
I left...very, very quickly.
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I awoke to discover that it was National Al Jolson day, so I popped into the Coach for a pint or four to enable me emotionally.
By the juke box stood an older woman of ample proportions. She was wearing a top hat and a UK Subs T-shirt. In short, my kind of woman.
She said to me: "After the recent beansprout scare, I do hope you're washing all of your fruit and veg young man."
I replied: "Thank ye kindly lady, I always make a point of rinsing my plums."
We left together, by seperate exits.
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I had only popped in for a quick half before my regular Thursday afternoon physio appointment with Mistress Babs, when I was approached by a woman who looked a lot like Su Pollard, star of TV and Panto.
She looked me up and down before saying: "Have you seen Miss Cathcart?"
I replied: "No madam, I am but a humble boy from the wrong side of the tracks."
"You've pulled," she said, before necking what was left of her brown ale.
"I'll get me harness," I replied.
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I found myself here in the gloaming, a foaming pint in my hand. A big man with a beard limped over to me.
He said: "Who does your hair for you?"
"My mum," I replied.
"Is she adept at home perms?" he asked.
"I can ring her and find out," I replied.
"I'll get me coat," he said.
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A typical old school Shepherd Neame town pub. Near enough empty but had a welcoming feel to it. Only SN ales on... the Master Brew was quite a good pint.
anonymous - 17 Dec 2010 12:36 |
Ladhimself,
Do you make these up, or are you stealing them from somewhere?
They are quite clever I must admit.
Not quite as brilliant as this classic by Foghorn:
Well I made it here this afternoon, and I wish I hadn't (the blazing sun fair took the skin off my head over Parliament Hill) but I'd arranged to pick up some eggs from Chicken Jim at 3 o'clock and I didn't want him to get stuck with them.
So I arrived hot and sweaty, 10 minutes late, and the day got worse from thereon.
No sooner had the transaction for the eggs be made than, for no good reason I can see, he called me a "Poof" in front of everybody. I didn't think that was very nice, since I've always been courteous to him.
So I said "At least I don't shag Trolls, unlike some people I could mention" and with that he swung a punch at my jaw, and stormed off for the door. Not an easy task. See Jim has a problem: his right leg is most attractive and muscular, in a Fatima Whitbread way, whereas his left leg has a more than passing resemblance to a cheese straw. This unfortunate quirk of nature gives him a profound list to larboard, which makes it nigh impossible for him to effect a straight course from A to B ... what you usually get with Jim is a course from A back to A again, via a loop.
Anyhow, his Fatima leg set off for the exit, fair determined, while his left leg dragged way behind like a reluctant schoolboy on his way to the Headmaster, and after two laps of the bar he gave up and sat down at the table in the window to annoy Manchester Mark, the one who lives in a bin-liner with his Japanese wife, Ahtissu.
That being said, the beer was delicious. They had on Red Squirrel Brewery today and I'm very fond of their products. Not the least their Conservation Bitter, by which they have an understanding with the Wild World-life Fund, in as much as for every tub they sell they promise to trample ten grey squirrels to death by sundown. So you can drink as much as you like, safe in the knowledge that you're doing your bit for world-life and the environment.
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She said to me: "Are they new shoes?"
I nodded. "Yes madam, my mother bought them for me from Shoe Express. They are a birthday present."
"Brown, eh?" she replied. "How old are you boy?"
"I'm 18 miss," Ianswered, blinking back the tears.
She got my coat for me.
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She said to me: "Educated sort, ain't you? And make no mistake."
I replied: "Yes me dear, I have some basic education and I have several certificates that I keep in a buff folder by bedside."
"You know Latin and stuff?" she asked.
I replied: "The word spatula, known in English since 1525, is a diminutive form of the Latin term spatha, which means a broad sword (as in spatharius) or a flat piece of wood and is also the origin of the words spade (digging tool) and spathe.."
Her eyes widened.
"Get your coat, you've pulled," she said.
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He said to me: "My oh my me lad, you've got a sturdy set of shoulders on ya."
I replied: "Thank you sir, I do a lot of lifting."
He said: "Heavy objects?"
I replied: "Sometimes your honour, very heavy objects sometimes."
"I'll get me coat," he said.
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I said to her: "You have a look of Bonnie Langford about you."
She said: "My we're not backwards when it comes to being forward are we? And make no mistake."
I replied: "You have eyes as blue as the ocean but not quite so salty."
She said: "My mother warned me about men like you. What size shoes do you wear? I'll get me coat."
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I said to the bloke loitering by the fag machine: "Snout?"
"Grass !" he replied.
"Police informer?" I asked.
"I'll get my coat," he said.
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She said to me: "Have you the time on you cock?"
I said: "I'll get me coat."
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I said to the landlord: "Are you open yet?"
He said: "Open yet? No, it's only 8.30 in the morning and I haven't cleaned me pipes yet."
I Said: "When do you open?"
He said: "11.30am."
I said: "I'll see you later then."
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I say ladhimself, you are far too clever and witty for this site. Always enjoy reading your comments.
Keep up the good work!!
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She said to me: "You're a bold one, ain't you? And make no mistake."
I said: "Miss, you is standing on my foot."
She said: "And a very big foot it is too, if you don't mind me sayingt. And make no mistake."
I replied: "I'll get me coat!"
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He said to me: "Is that your coat?"
I said: "No, mine is hanging up by the door."
He said: "Well, whose coat is it?"
I replied: "I dunno."
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I said to him: "Is that your pint?"
He replied: "No, mine is the one by the pool table."
I said: "Whose pint is this then?"
He replied: "I dunno."
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Trust me I'm a doctor. I know what I'm doing.
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It was in this pub where I fell alseep at the bar and had a weird dream that involved Janet Street Porter, a jar of goose fat and a copy of 'Extreme Caravan' magazine.
I often revisit.
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Contrary to HTM69 my visit to "The Corpse And Hearses" was dire.
Hardly anyone in there and the beer was abysmal. I ordered the draught Porter and it was definitely off. They don't know how to keep ale.
Willnot be going back.
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Monday�s recent Bank Holiday (5 May) trip to the coastal town of Whitstable was a sheer pleasure and the fourth pub visited, The Coach and Horses, was another joy. Like The East Kent (it�s almost opposite) it�s a Shepherd Neame establishment and is situated away from the bustle of the main town. The exterior glittered in the sunshine and just beckoned me in. I was confronted with a tidy, well-presented bar. I sadly cannot recall too much of its individual detail, yet what I do know, is that it was homely. The ales (as expected) were excellent and my first ever pint of the seasonal Early Bird was mightily refreshing. This is evidently a local�s affair and when at the bar, couldn�t help but notice the sense of calmness resonating amongst the regulars scattered within. To the rear of the pub is a dining area where books and various assorted trinkets adorned the shelves. Further on still, is a real sun-trap of a beer patio, basic, yet perfectly accommodating and one I found ideal for soaking up the late-afternoon rays and supping a fresh pint of ale. Whitstable had done it again. Another cracker, pay a visit.
HTM69 - 13 May 2008 19:02 |
