Many years ago...
I used to work in The Chillingham Arms in Heaton, Newcastle. A brilliant, and oddly schizophrenic, pub. One side was the lounge, for families and scaredy students. The other was the bar, for local nutters and football teams.

We had this one regular whose name escapes me. But he was an old, pathalogical liar of epic (and therefore comedic) proportions. He'd tell us all sorts of tales of his adventuring lifestyle, ranging from pulling 16 year old girls (he wasn't far from 60) to the time he had to shoot a bull in Leeds city centre because the armed police unit didn't "have the balls".

But his best were when he brought in props. Two such stories spring to mind:

1) He walks in with a pig's foot in a bag. We ask, as we were wont to do, why he's got a pig's foot in a bag. He says it's for a "ritual". We cry.

2) He walks in nonchalantly with a pair of skis. We ask why he has said skis. He says, matter of factly, "just been skiing". Despite the lack of boots or any other skiing paraphernalia. We cry.

I loved that pub.
( mrlogic is copying your beard, Fri 5 Sep 2008, 18:17, 2 replies)

The Chilli
I used to drink in the Chilli when I lived in Heaton; some strange people in there. Then there was the woman who ate her own hair in the Hussars.
(Razors, Fri 5 Sep 2008, 18:57, closed)

The Chillingham Arms
Is a fantastic pub. Old Rosie on tap, and a fantastic music quiz every Tuesday. Ace.
(slotbadger, Tue 9 Sep 2008, 8:53, closed)