Dear God. Why, oh why, in such a tasteful, elegant, stylish and cultured country is one of the staple beers in their many bars… Tennents Super.
Tennents. Fucking. Super.
The beer [read: vomit] of choice for all the drunks, punks and wonderfully wasted youths in the UK. The drug of choice to many; guaranteed to have you in a coma on the pavement crying in your pants because you couldn’t handle your third can.
This stunningly boozy ‘strong lager’ has such a hold here in the design capital of the world that bars and shops are stocking the stuff to spilling point. It seems a stark contrast to the decadence, luxury and general pap shown off during the time of year when champagne companies are more than willing to splash the cash on Mr. Dixon’s cardboard-hexagon-school project-‘I’m a comet’ lamp…
I’d love to see a Tennents Super sponsored make-a-home project. Oh no, that wouldn’t work, they only seem to break homes.