Kegs

Kegs, uhm just kegs. Oooh there's a Kerb too.

I thought I'd knip along to my favourite brewery and katch some kegs. It was kold and I kouldn't be bothered setting up my tripod, so things were done a bit KGB-style, as I leaned on the railings.

Photographic techniques went out the window when the two large security guards started taking an interest. There was a very large truck being loaded with what must have been around 1000 kegs of the lovely stuff they make here. - 80,000 pints, at a rough guess.

I snapped a few shakey shots before the fattest one noticed me and I couldn't be bothered explaining what I was doing...What do you say?... 'I was blipping, I'm doing an alphabet thing and I'm on K and your kegs were perfect.' So I left kwite kwickly.

Must think up better excuses for being weird. Anyway, kwality issues aside, please forgive my karefree attitude.

I almost resorted to keys, knuckles or knobs and knockers, but you get the raw reality of this kooky plan. Note to self - get a dictionary.