Porterhouse (Covent Garden)

The Littlest Hobo

They never made a film of my life but I’m not bitter.  Maybe my face didn’t fit, I don’t know, but I’ve done alright.

Being a dog (a smooth dog), life is pretty simple, pretty “paw to mouth” really.

You lay your hat and you move on.

“Home” you say!? Hey that’s just a suggestion to me baby, not a command. (In fact, me and you can go toe to toe on the concept of “Home” anytime you like).

But I digress. *Woof*

Every stop I make, well, sure I meet people, but friends? You and I know better.

My travelling life brings me a wide range of experience - just ask any “Temporary accommodation enthusiast”. People, places and above all boozers – that’s my remit.

As soon as I pad into town, whether it be Montreal, Toronto or Quebec (wherever really), I’m always scoping. *Sniff sniff*.

“London” they said,.. “Do you wanna go to London?" they said – "A one hour special – Stars of the eighties – Where are they now?, all expenses paid.” As a dog, you see, I was all over it.

I check into the hotel,  it’s alright, *anyway that’s a different review*, ….Swift play with a stick, slash up the doorpost and I’m ready to hit the town.

Covent Garden,  said my tourist guide – And who am I to argue,..So I’m straight under the barriers on the Piccadilly line and pretty soon I’m there. Scoping.

Sniffing round Covent Garden my doggy sense tells me,..”Phew!,..This place has seen a lot of traffic!” And it certainly has, “Toujours rammo with d**ks” said my friend Lassie, and he/she wasn’t wrong! So let’s have a quick run through.

The Punch and Judy?!,..I wouldn’t pee on it if it was on fire! (That’s a lie,.I would).

Henry’s? Well put it like this, I’d like to meet him! 

The choice ain’t great,,..But choice is the point,..Choice is certainly the point of the Porterhouse. 

Choice, Choice, Choice.  Oooooooooh, where do I sit *Err now?..Err hang on ,..It’s me saying it,. So I don’t have to!!,..Stay! Fetch,..Wha..what!!?*…Oooooooooooh, what floor?……..Oooooooooh, what beer?  Belgian, French, *Woof Woof* ,..German, Bolivian, Thai? Oooooh, the agony!!  Tell you what?..Why don’t you just sling a Carling Top in my bowl sharpish, and we’ll say no more about it!

My point, if I have one, is this:  Like any gaff *Scratch Scratch* in Covent Garden, it’s packed. The fact that it’s massive makes no odds. Bottom bar – packed,  middle bar – packed,..side bar – packed,..Mars bar – packed.  The best you can do is slip the lead, get to the very back upstairs and hope for a fire alarm.

You talk about choice, mine is simply this – Not Covent Garden,..

*OOOH, A CAT!!*

,…Erm,..Sorry,…Anyway,..

The Porterhouse? Ooooh, so-so! Just another half hour episode.

Now excuse me whilst I lick my owns gonads,…

London the Littlest Hobo's rating forThe Porterhouse  - 4 / 10

Rolosocosy

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  “,….. Why didn’t they live to be 100?Huh? Well, they woz running round all day, hunting mammoths, eating berries,..rumping their little hearts out. No boozing or smoking. They must have been fit as fiddles. Yer Neanderthalls……….I’ll tell you why, it’s … Continue reading →