Blue Lion (Holborn)

Toad (Wind in the Willows)

The older I get, the more of a pain in the bum my mates become. *laughs*

Just as well I've an endless supply of soft wipes!

When we were growing up my pals couldn't get enough of old Toady. At Christmas they'd be round my pad quicker than a water-rat up a drainpipe, checking out latest toys – like my magno-levitation roller boots, space-shuttle hopper and river-boat attack submarine.

Life and soul of the party, they said back then. Good old Toad!

Ha! Now, we're older, it's a different story. They've become a right bunch of miserable old washer-women.

It all started with the caravan thing; "the start of many inappropriate and unhealthy crazes," the skunk's brother called it. 'Having a bloomin' good laugh more like Badge!", I said pretending to be amused by his concern.

More disapproval followed when I moved onto sports cars. Yeah, I had a bit of bother with the police, then a spell in the Scrubs. So what? Me and Lord Brocket; just a pair of loveable rogues whose automotive high-jinx got us into a spot of bother.

Originally I put my friends' personality by-passes down to middle-age, but now I think it's jealousy. I've always had a big house on account of my parents being the famous Lord and Lady Toad (you've probably heard of them), with plenty of inherited cash (yeah, well, go sue me Ratty, you muddy, socialist prole).

I'm not ashamed to have traded on good looks either.

Back to those bum-wipes. You've seen the packets in Tescos I'm sure? Moist toilet paper for young kids? They're called Kan-doos *laughing*. Front of the box bears the image of a certain gorgeous amphibian *laughs* wiping his backside.

Yup, that's me folks; I did the photo-shoot. *wiping a tear from his eye with a handy wet Kan-doo* So what? I'm not ashamed. Those wipes made me a bucket of cash, keeping me in the style to which I'm accustomed. Cars, caravans, you name it; I'm the Kan-doo, toad-prince – with my own life's supply, compliments of the manufacturer thanks to the 'unbelievable sales surge'!

Not just a pretty face! Or clean bum!

Anyway, back to my chums and the reason I'm in the Corrib Rest tonight. It was that sappy mole who first introduced me to pub culture. I reckon the trio had been plotting; thought it would calm me down – stop me spending so much money. My OWN money I might add. I guess the rat probably would've been more actively involved, but he's been busy chasing some filthy rodent from Barnsley, so we haven't seen him for weeks.

The first night it was just me and the mole. He wanted to go to a pub called The Water Rats, near Kings Cross, 'being comfortable with the name' as he put it. Honestly, that fellow; he's as wet as the river bank.

Soon as I saw the dump, I vetoed it. I suggested the Griffin (for the strippers), but Mole turned a greener shade of brown so we settled on a compromise - the Blue Lion.

What a pub! My first taste of fruit machines, "whiz, ping ping, whiz, buzz". Fantastic! And my first game of pool! I was in heaven. Apart from being with the drippiest drip since Jemima Puddle-Duck. But I was already making new friends left, right and centre. I am the famous Toad, after all!

I dumped the mole. Next day, I told him I didn't feel like pubs anymore. Truth was though, I was all over it; a Blue Lion regular, learning to play pool, losing shed loads of cash to the ITN weasels who drink there, playing the fruities – and, best of all, getting into the footy. Well into it.

Ahhh, the footy. I LOVE IT. Portsmouth is my team. It's a beautiful little village on the south coast, by the water, so I've been told. Just how I like it. "Come on the 'mouth," I shout, when I'm watching on the pub's telly. Oh, how everyone laughs at my enthusiasm and bonhomie!

Best of all I learned how to swear like a docker. I couldn't imagine anyone using language like that in a place like Portsmouth, let alone along the river bank. But I loved it!

Well, three or four weeks have passed since that first night. Under duress, I agreed to meet Mole and Badger, near Badger's gaff up at Queens Park tonight. I wasn't that keen to see them, but I learned that the Corrib Rest has plenty of pool tables, fruities - and even salsa dancing - so I was up for a look. That's where I am now.

I arrived early to check the place out, trying hard to maintain my usual avuncular demeanour. Downed a few pints in the small bar as prep for meeting the miserable low lifes, had a chat with some weasels, then checked out the dancing upstairs. Now, I'm ready to move into the big bar; I know they're there already.

* downs his pint in one before moving through *

Ah well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Here goes.

Moley! Badger! The best news! I’ve four, no,… five, new hobbies! Whahey!!!!!! Fruit boxes! Oh they’re brilliant. Do you have any loose change? Salsa dancing (upstairs), * grinding his hips * Woo Hoo! Pool, “Don’t tuck me up you tosser. Swearing! “You despicable ****wads!”

And, best of all - Watching football! “On me (slimey) head son! Forget the rugger!”

Come on lads, screw the big bar. There are more TV's next door. Lets get really Leathered (god rest Daisy) and challenge that obese Weasel to a game of killer! Check out the snugs in the small bar, if need be Mole."

*under his breath* - "Pussy!"

"Whahey!! The drinks are on The Toad!"

*Steams back into the small bar, shouting his mouth off*

"Check out the bum-wipes everyone!" I yell, showing off a packet of my endless supply of freebies (but really I'm talking about the pair of tools I'm with).

Toad’s rating for The Blue Lion – 8 / 10

Sputnikski

Ratty's been down the boozer too - read here

So has Moley - check it out

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