Saturday 17th December
Station Pub, Kings Heath High Street
Ho, ho, fucking ho.
It’s that time of the year, when you exchange pieces of tat, grudgingly sold to you by an indentured labourer in Poundland, before preparing to gorge youself fat and stiupid on the bloated corpse of some poisoned bird, so hideously mutated its forebears had no hope of even reproducing without the aid of a handjob from one of the dead-eyed minions in Bernard Mathews’ death factories. It truly is the most wonderful time of the year.
Come and face the horror in all its grotesque glory with Bigfoot, Koltchack, Scampi, TeknoDriver, Billy No-Mates and birthday boy Skippy.
£3 door tax.
All money going to Birmingham Against the Cuts. Again.
Because face facts; this time next year it could be you or me sitting on that Poundland till for fuck all.