Roasters often get weird notions about the quality of drink deteriorating the further you travel from the brewery. “I only drink Beamish within the Cark county boundary.” Fuck up you gimps.
A lovely pub. I had a few pints there last year. Met a gas cunt from out near Mitchelstown who told me how rich he was and how he now had an eastern European girlfriend half his age. Proper slum landlord and proud. The rest of the people in the pub were sound.