Wednesday, April 09, 2008

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Boozer of the Year

Which pub are you nominating for overall Boozer of the Year – and why? If you'd like some inspiration about which of your chosen boozer's bounteous charms to big up to give it the best chance of winning this glittering competition, feel free to click HERE and take note of the all-important boozer credentials. (And feel free to email
me
with any you'd like added to the list!).


Legendary landlord or landlady of the Year
From the large Scotsman who ran a favourite pub from my youth, and vacillated wildly between letting us get hammered on snakebite and blacks and shrieking humiliatingly “Get oot me fookin’ poob!” before we’d even got through the door, to the gone but never forgotten Pat (RIP), the Irish woman with the sweet smile who could have been your kindly gran – until last orders, when the full force of her steely, other-worldly stare would empty the place in seconds – the clue is in the word ‘legendary’. To do such a very special sort of a job, pub proprietors are, naturally, very special sorts of people.

Boozer bogs of the year award
Loo-roll holding dolls… unlikely collages… twee his ’n’ hers signs… choice graffiti, or pungently scented with Glade’s most intoxicating product… Your nominated loos need not be luxurious – they simply need to be special enough in whichever weird, wonderful or seedy way you fancy, to reflect the character of a typical STB boozer.

Authentic pub fayre of the year award
From pickled eggs to soft-focus topless ladies dispensing peanuts and black pudding butties to black forest gateaux (straight from Iceland) – pleasing pub food doesn’t have to be trendy. Think of this award as the anti-Michelin star of the catering world.

The sticky carpet award
A particularly spectacular swirly carpet? A luscious lived-in feel? A no-nonsense just-gimme-a-beer-dammit utilitarian vibe? Strange signage? Caricatures of the regulars in a frame? Fishtanks? Flying ducks? Whatever makes you feel at home in your boozer – share it here.

The ultimate jukebox award
Don’t you just love the way that a proper pub jukebox just mixes things up with anarchic abandon? Where else – apart, perhaps, from at a very good wedding reception – could you hear Lindisfarne, Foreigner, Bowie, Oasis, Supergrass and Foster & Allen in one sitting? Where is your favourite pub jukebox and what are its choicest offerings?

The terrifying pub award
You know those pubs you walk into and immediately want to walk out of… only you’re too scared to move? The pub where you’re greeted with a vortex of menacing silence, and three pairs of eyes that swivel from their copies of The Sun to assess just how out of place you look – well, four pairs if you include Saddam the pitbull. And yet, especially when you really need a drink at 11am, it’s the best place to be; soon, amid the intrusive electronic chirrups from the fruit machines, the balefaced regulars and blaring racing commentary – you and your dubious behaviour will almost disappear. Which sometimes is just what’s required.

The ‘man walks into a pub’ award
This award is all about celebrating the essence of what makes a brilliant boozer: the people who drink in it. So nominate this pub based on the best, most touching, funniest or plain weirdest thing you’ve seen, heard or encountered in said boozer. I once had a lovely chap recount his entire life story to me via the medium of song, while his friend illustrated salient points in dance-moves behind him. Another time, a terrifying middle-aged crustie with dreadlocks down to his knees and a voice like Lloyd Grossman took umbrage when I noted that he’d spilt his beer on my shoes by screeching at me: “I bet you think you’re Madonna, dooooon’t you?” Now common parlance round my parts when someone’s getting a bit too feisty.

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