| Comment | You know the first holiday you took to somewhere mediterranean, and you were old enough to drink (or at least to get away with it)? You'd no idea somewhere could be so hot, your balls were making the sound of velcro with every step, and then you chanced upon a shaded bar and wrapped your chops around a cold pint of the local lager and it was the greatest thing you'd ever tasted?
And then you'd be amazed by this native beer, and you'd push a few cans into your bag to take home with you to enjoy when you got back? And when you did, and you were back in moderate climes, it turned out to just be standard shitty tin-tasting corner shop crap?
Well, each crap lager has its place and this is Tennents home. It tastes right here. It's our local lager that hits the spot in the cold and gloom, beckoning from our own tacky bars, and would taste like the cheap shite it is anywhere else. But we're not anywhere else, we're here. |
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