Hello. I'm Ronald. This is my new blog. I hope you like it.
What is a blog? I see it as a way of saying everything that my friends, family, acquaintances, blokes in pubs, my children, fellow tram passengers and the homeless guy outside the supermarket don't want to hear. Hence the title.
My interest in beer has - I like to think - both breadth and depth. And heightth. I would name more dimensions, but sadly most don't have names. If I knew what they were all called, I would claim my mind-thingy was big in their way. If you see what I mean. (If you find the next to last last sentence confusing, vague or just plain bollocky, don't waste your time on this blog; it's unlikely to get much more coherent.)
The internet. That's where sad loners, their heads full of words no-one wants to hear, feel at home. Hi! Great to be here. I'm sure we're going to get on really well.
Barclay Perkins. Barclay Perkins. How liberating it feels to say those two forbidden words out loud. It isn't allowed here. How many times have I heard Andrew or Alexei say: "Shut up about your stupid Barclay Perkins."
It's weird. My kids have no interest in the changes in Mild grists between 1880 and 1890. What's wrong with them? Have I taught them nothing?
Books. I have piles of books. I can provide photographic proof if necessary, but believe me, the piles are just about up to my elbow. I blame the interent. It's just too easy to buy the most obscure publications. Once I have them, I have to read them. A compulsion, you could call it. "Dad. Can you please stop reading that old crap." That's a view from the kids.
But, once you've plucked out the juiciest sweetmeat of knowledge, where's the fun if there's no-one in whose mouth to drop it? The solution is obvious: join with the unemployed and unemployable in the blogsphere. Share with my peers the weird bits up crap I've unearthed.
I hope you like it. I really do. I promise many clumsy attempts at humour. And lots of numbers. I like numbers. They are my friends. And I want to share my friends with everyone.
Where is the real danger? - There are people that think the threat to cask beer is a thing. Others worry about British hops. And there are those that panic that a 50 year old, and lar...
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