Having really enjoyed Manchester’s winter beer festival at the weekend, I’ve spent the afternoon looking over the web to update my calendar of festivals this year. They’re not something I want to do every week and I already have Pendle lined up for the weekend after next, but when I spotted Bristol on the list I felt tempted straight away. I have a mate down there and having been last year, loved the place. Perfect, I thought – a nice weekend jaunt with a few mates in mid-March.

But, hmmm, hang on. Where’s the “times and prices” page so familiar to every other festival website? It’s just a one page affair, a block of black and white. And the system for getting tickets… well, maybe I’ve had a long day in front of the computer, but it took me a good few reads to get my head round what they’re doing. I’m still not quite sure if I’m eligible, or if they even want me to come. There are lots of bold bits about places and times which are pretty meaningless to me. Given that you can only buy them in person I presume this is strictly a local festival for local people – no outsiders, please.

This deeply saddens me as on the evidence of previous years, Bristol beer fest is a honeypot for MILFs.

Women do not do anything more attractive than smile with a pint. Fact.	Thanks to science, we now know females can safely drink ale.
Mmmm... strict but friendly English teacher making you stay behind...	When God invented "phwoar", he was philandering with this woman.

Once again it’s a kick in the teeth for the grim old north. I feel like Kes in a version of Kes where he gets invited down to London to be best mates with a lion-zebra hybrid but when he gets to the zoo it’s had a really awful fire and he can just smell charred raccoon meat, an acrid stench which never quite leaves him for the rest of his life. That’s like me and my MILFs, that. Well stuff you, Bristol, with your elaborate ticketing system and gaudy display of your MILF’s wares. There’s nowt so bad about a bit of black pudding and a nice warm Northern lass.

Rest in peace, Blanche, you quick-witted Northern bastard.

Beer festival · Beers · Bristol · MILF

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