If you open a window for a wasp, they hang around it, defiantly, like a lad who’s been asked to leave a pub and is doing it really slowly while threatening the bar staff
We don't give enough vocal attention to boiled spuds left in the fridge overnight and then sliced and fried the next day. I think we take it for granted
It’s not a drink that you miss, it’s the impromptu nature of walking in somewhere and having a pint, not always sure where it will lead. Or sitting at the bar perfectly perched, pint in front of you with a mate by your side, in the grasp of a great conversation.