Beer Compurgation

Update: As this page still receives so many views, I feel I should direct you to my second, more favourable post on the subject, after you have read this one.  You should attempt to grow up in Manchester with a Liverpudlian mother and extensive family heralding from the Merseyside city. As sacrilegious as many of my Mancunian friends have found it, Liverpool has long been my favourite city. It has a lot of history and character that Manchester was always lacking in my youth. There were several areas to explore. Everything from the engaging design of the cathedrals to the oddity of the dock area made it a much more fascinating citadel than I was accustomed to. But, in my older years, I have struggled to convince my friends that we should go drinking there, as they hide behind their rather terrace-like prejudices. It is because of this that I have only been around Liverpool’s pubs on a couple of occasions, the main instance being quite a few years back. It included my first visit

There are no rules to drinking beer. You may fancy a tipple at this moment, despite it being just an ordinary day, with nothing spectacular occurring and nobody else present. You might not really be in the mood for anything specific. You might just be satisfied with an orange juice but took to a beer because it was there. And that beer you’ve reached for might be a frozen can of your most tasteless lager that the off license had on offer. It’ll suffice. Or it might be the rarest, double barrel aged, triple hopped, cinnamon infused, overpriced crafted drink that cost £35 from an independent shop in South Devon. The truth is, I don’t know why I would reach for the latter on a regular night. For whatever reason, on a personal preference, when I buy rare or expensive beers, I find myself storing them away until I have special reason to bring them out; a reason that never transpires. However, through the power of social media, I often see people supping the beers I have stockpiled in