What a year that was, was it?
No, we can’t remember it either, so we’re pleased to have these reminders. Forget Trump, Brexit and the Skripals, here’s the important stuff:
After a titanic struggle, Catford’s Blythe Hill Tavern won the 2nd Deserter World Cup of Pubs. Cheers!
And we saw that in times of adversity, a leader will emerge…
They say January is a quiet month, but the evidence on the street told a different story.
A new shop opened in Deptford for all your French stuff:
While we got the hang of commuting again. All hail Dressing Gown Woman on the 08.52 to Victoria.
In a cold snap, we noticed how everything looks so lovely in the snow.
Meanwhile, as our book crowdfunder was launched, the Raider demanded to be flown to Tenerife to “make a start on the title”.
We heard from Carole, whose response this was to a nurse who told her that, at her age, she should have a bar in the shower:
And several of you spotted these fine motivational words in Charlton, SE Heaven.
March also saw the TV debut of this little heroine, as a Netherlands mascot. Teach them well and let them lead the way.
An early heatwave caught out all but the most intrepid Deserter: “Took a little while to fill the pool but well worth it in today’s heat.”
An anti-smoking poster was widely ridiculed: “This poster makes no sense; just look at how fucking cool that chicken is.”
The heatwave continued into May and many struggled to keep cool in the city. Not this feller. “As we came from the water, so we must return”.
And we were reminded that before capitalism took hold, these Victorian “day beds” proliferated throughout South London.
The Grapes in Sutton decided to give itself a name change, and it was perfect.
In June we doffed our caps to Gus, who got a beer in for each of the 32 countries in the 2018 World Cup.
And to this fan, too, enjoying the unbeatable taste of that first pint of the day…
Guys and dolls came out to play in Greenwich.
While WH Smith messed with out minds. Where the fuck are we supposed to drink it then?
We were momentarily concerned when we heard rationing had been introduced at the Door Hinge micropub, Welling:
And shocked at what Bungle from Rainbow looks like now…
Just a normal Monday afternoon on the South Circular:
But our summer hero was this bloke, who crashed out in Bensons For Beds, Streatham, for four hours.
Courageous, non-conformist and with a keen sense of balance. We spotted leadership potential immediately.
The Raider, at enormous physical expense to mind and body, visited every Spoons in South East London, including this one, The Kentish Drovers, Peckham.
We made a mint with our special offer:
“FOR SALE: False widow spiders, 4 for £5.”
We got first sight of Neil Gower’s brilliant cover for our book:
And decided to celebrate with a pub crawl. We found a handy map of every pub in the UK.
We were alerted to a device-naming masterclass:
We launched our book (and a new batch of Deserter IPA) at the Dulwich Beer Dispensary. Lucky we’ve got the pictures because we can’t remember a thing about it.
At Borough we were given blessed respite from the tyranny of advertising.
Also, buy our book, yeah?
We were reminded of the little victories that make work bearable.
And were are thrilled to announce the purchase of three water cannon from the office of the Mayor of London which we used to spray Deserter IPA through the streets of South London during the festive season.
We spotted a message to the people of Plumstead.
And were thrilled by the sight of a wild pizza drinking from an urban watering hole.
We were enraged that our Christmas TV ad was deemed unfit to broadcast:
But pleased to find a toy made in our own image.
[some sort of amusing cheerio message and ‘hello 2019’ bit here, please subs, I can’t be fucked]
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