The £3 Pint Revisited
For several years now I have been following the plight of the pub industry, rather too avidly at times. You may recall The Pub and the £3 Pint from August 2012.
Last week MPs voted to end draconian rules that force some pub tenants to pay much higher prices for their drinks, controlled as they are by Pubcos. If the amendment passes into law this could affect around 21,000 of Britain’s remaining 48,000 pubs.
“Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) research found a pubco may charge £150 for an 11 gallon keg of Fosters, for example, compared with a wholesale price of £84.” (BBC News Website 19/11/14)
Incredibly, the British Beer and Pub Association (BBPA) claimed the move “hugely damaging” spoiling a practice that had allegedly done well for 400 years. For who? I never knew they had been ripping us off that long!
If my mate Big Al sued them for a rebate he could buy a castle.
They bleated that “1,400 pubs would close and 7,000 jobs would be lost if the tie model was abandoned.” A very spurious claim indeed.
Given that some 30 pubs a week are still shutting, many unable to pay eye-popping rents nor make a margin selling tied products at inflated prices to prop up debt laden Pubcos, this is yet more shameless corporate bollocks.
As the article states “the number of pubs has fallen by almost 13,000 since 2000″.
This in a period where the Pubcos have sunk under the weight of their greed induced debt and punters have suffered over the bar with hugely inflated prices to prop the Gin & Tonic brigade up.
The BBPA is simply a stooge and is not interested in a fair deal for the nation’s pubs and drinkers, doing it’s work instead on behalf of bankers and hedge funds who own the Pubcos.
As Private Eye (1380) points out though, this is far from the end as only existing publicans are covered and “must wait until specific events such as a rent review or expiry of their contract” before they can then renegotiate.
In the meantime the vampire Pubcos can continue to bleed them – and us – dry.
Whilst not seeking to offend – and get barred from the local – not many tenants are blessed with the skill sets required to negotiate complex deals with the snake suits. No mention either of the possibility of a Pubco simply terminating contracts.
And still no protection for those naive enough to seek to get into bed with the blood suckers and take on a “great business opportunity!”
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-30110742
High On The Hill
The New Inn, for so long forbidden territory for us White Bear loyalists across the street, is getting a makeover and real ale; there could be trouble ahead.
So Marsy & I decided to take a peak with the lure of England’s latest rugby match and barmaids young enough to be Our Jackle’s daughter outweighing the absence of Our Jackie of course!
One thing the New Inn always seemed to be able to do was attract the womenfolk of the village and it still continues to do so as they sensibly avoid the pensioner’s paradise of the Bear across the silver surfer’s super highway.
They waddle up the High Street like seals out of the surf or are unloaded like cattle courtesy of the Idleways limo – the Datsun eight-seater – Lambrini bottles rolling empty all over the floor.
Legs and arms sporting more tattoos than a Samoan prop-forward, fags crushed at the door, in they come clutching the child benefit. Handbags are dumped on the bar full of lipsticks big enough to paint road markings and enough foundation to secure the Pyramids.
That unmistakable whiff of Eau de Mace floats across the pub; a casual glance is not worth the risk as you are likely to get a bop on the nose, carted off unconscious and wake up “Dad” to four kids from all parts of the globe.
Stick around long enough for the disco and karaoke to start to see for yourself the wonder of stretch fabric. Just as Charlene from the Co-Op took to the stage to murder “It’s Raining Men” Marsy and I decided it would be safer back in the comfort of Our Jackie’s bosom.
The New Inn is alive and well..and so is The Bear…thank God.
Stuffed Golliwog: Shock, Horror!
The local rag had more world-breaking news the other day concerning a knitted golliwog in a shop window.
“Speech therapist Susie Lloyd was shocked to see the black woollen doll in the display window of The Saltaire Vintage shop on Victoria Road, which she believes could have upset many visitors to the historic village.” What a load of bollocks!
Predictably and woefully the shopkeeper gave in and removed this threat to global harmony from the shop window; yet another example of lemon-headed, political correctness that has blighted society for generations.
Has anyone ever considered the damage done to children like me having grown up with the Golly – first introduced in 1910 – only for it to be removed without explanation off jam jars in 2001, when I was only 38?
I don’t remember ever making jam and bread and thinking “I must join the BNP when I grow up!” And what about dolls with big noses like mine…ever see me get upset?
We sell warmongering video games glorifying violence that kids consume at will and soft porn bombards easily available music channels without limitation. This is a bloody doll for God’s sake.
Sticks and stones?
Charity?
The Daily Mail disclosed the following recently. “Save the Children is paying its top employee £234,000 a year”.
It went on to state that another 29 employees earn more than £100,000; all this from a charity that has just awarded a “Global Legacy” gong to old snake skin Blair whose bombs rained down, mutilating kids for years.
I think I know where they can shove their collecting tins!
All In It Together?
The spiritual leader crawled from his bunker this week to announce more budget cuts to Utopia, slipping his expenses form neatly in his back pocket. More cuts to the elderly, libraries and even flower planting; oh what grey land will he rule?
Even talk of reducing the number of parties in his front pond; where will the great unwashed go for a wash now?
No such savagery for those riding the gravy train though.
Councillor’s expenses in 2013/14 totalled £1.79m up from £1.76m the year before. The divine leader somehow managed to pocket £49,373 (£47,604) – a 4% increase. All in it together?
Choo-choo!
Priorities
Look North presented the story of a 6 year old boy with a rare, life limiting illness. For the past 2 years he has undergone clinical trials with a drug which has made a massive difference, slowing the disease’s progression and offering hope.
Now the NHS have to decide whether or not to approve funding for this drug. In addition, it has emerged that the scorecard system used by NHS England to appraise drugs for funding actively discriminates against very rare diseases.
This morning on Radio 4’s Today programme (yes, I am that old but anything is better than Chris Evans) the case was being made for more expenditure on bariatric (weight loss) surgery to save the NHS money long-term.
My mood was hardly improved by the Daily Mail headline claiming that 2m fatties were lined up for blubber reduction at a projected future cost of £12bn.
One little boy, too young to have any responsibility for his tough life to date or a nation of stupid, obese idiots relying on Nanny State to bail them out?
And your choice would be?
Healthy Option
Here’s Ed from my gym tucking into a hearty breakfast of chicken and chips plus brown sauce! You see…you can have it all!
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