A festive night on the town…with Kentish Town Cats

We are the Kentish Town Cats. If you “do” Twitter you might know of us. And if you don’t, here’s a little Ich Bin interview we did earlier in the year.

So anyway, since it’s that “crazy” Friday before Xmas where everyone goes beserk we thought we’d offer you a document of a typical night out, KTC style.

The first stretch: Boston Arms to Junction Tav

We would generally start in the Boston Arms, opposite Tufnell Park tube: there’s fine (cheap) Guinness before 7pm, and usually a bunch of old Irish guys in to talk a load of shit with. A lot of people seem to be scared of the place, but let us tell you, this is a real pub with real people – and as long as you’re not gobbing it off like a twat you’ll have no bother whatsoever.

Fuelled up on the cheap stuff, we’ll head down to The Pineapple. They have real ale, of course, but we’re still knocking back the Guinness so can’t really tell you too much about this; apparently it’s good though. (Peggy Sue was also a fan of the vintage market there; in fact she’s still keeping warm in an 80’s style suede batwing jacket she picked up one time).

A couple more and it’s over to The Junction. We’re former Camden Town Cats so the recent influx of staff from The Hawley Arms and Crown and Goose both pleases us and fills us with dread in equal measure. On the one paw, it’s good to see old faces like Ben, Matti and Miguel (formerly of Tribes); on the other, we thought we’d left all of our dirty secrets behind us in, er, C-Town. Good beer garden though. And you can often find Clarence mooching about it even when we’re not on the piss.

Then on down Fortess Rd we go. We don’t go to the Southampton these days; Lillian got us barred after she went berserk and threw a posh scotch egg at one of the bar staff. We also swerve The Assembly, not ‘cause we’re barred or anything, just ‘cause it’s shit. You’ll notice we’ve also missed Shebeen (we’ll be back here later).

Tickling the belly: O’Reilly’s to the Admiral

Next up, O’Reilly’s for a couple with our mate, Diabolical Dave: it’s pretty much the only pub the diabolical twat is allowed in now on account of his rage and, again, it’s good to have a drink with the indigenous population. More Guinness and a few games of pool later and we’re getting pretty pissed now. The Grafton ahoy!

Yup, we like it there. It’s a quality addition to Kentish Town pubbery; we had our reservations when we heard it was getting a tart-up but they’ve done a good fucking job. Mix of people, too. Yes, it’s largely young and middle-class but if you stick your head in during the day you’ll still find a lot of local blokes in there. Always decent music and stuff at the weekend too.

Then it’s down to Tapping the Admiral with that twat of a pubcat Nelson laying on his chaise lounge like fucking Nero, awaiting cat bitches to feed him grapes. Well it ain’t fucking us, Nelson! Don’t know who he thinks he is to be honest. Can’t stay in here to long, he gets on our tits and it’ll kick right off.

Curling up: via Shebeen

We’ve been largely boycotting The Abbey due to them not serving Guinness but Lillian wants some Jaegerbombs and we can get away with a cheeky spliff in the beer garden, so that’s up next. Good pub The Abbey, always lively of a weekend, best beer garden in K-Town, what’s not to like. Except their stance on Guinness.

Ishh that the time? Better be heading off if we want to make it to Shebeen, what with the miserable bunch of eejits on that residents’ group scuppering their plans for a later license. We’ve got a lotta love for manager Dave, mix-master to the muthafucking max Louis and all the mob down there. It’s a great place with some quality cocktails – get one of those poitin old fashioneds down you: it’ll put hairs on yer chest (if, unlike us, you don’t already have hairs on your chest).

And that, good people of Kentish Town, is it. We’re pissed and we’re starving, so we’re off to do the triple-bin challenge down at Chicken Shop/Pizza East/Dirty Burger.

Next time you’re out on the lash? Keep an eye out for us, we’re the fucking furry ones. Happy Xmas!

Follow them on Twitter: @kentishtowncats