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You’ve read about Razor, and Hippo, and Chopper. If you haven’t, then here’s where to find them http://wp.me/p2C8Zz-n1

So here are some more pub characters from past and present.

Cockney Jim

He’s from Londonderry. He has the accent to match. He pronounces his own name as Jum. My name comes out with no alveolar nasal consonants at all. Ducka. Sort of. Nothing like Cockney, hence he’s Cockney Jim.

Two Doors

His real name was Alan Carter, but the landlady, to distinguish him from another Alan, would describe him as ‘You know. Lives two doors down from Lesley but on the other side of the road.’ He was married to Becks, who featured here http://wp.me/p2C8Zz-5O. He was also occasionally referred to as Twelve Heads, but life’s too short to explain that one.


A painter and decorator from the East End, he was small, wiry, swarthy, and had black hair and a beard.

Rufus Lycra

Real name Richard, but had blazing red hair and a temper to go with it if called by his given name. Prone to wearing cycling shorts in any but the very coldest weather. Source of the proverb Cast ne’er a clout till Lycra be out.


Real name Barry, hence the Baz as a corruption. Cabz from his habit of picking up stray drunks and taking them home.

Timmy Mallett’s Lovechild

A jolly nice bloke called Ray, who just happened to have tightly ringleted hair. All natural, or he’d have been labelled a dolt.

Snake Eyes Colenso

Real name Mickey Collins, but he was a keen herpetologist and a member of the Bentfield Mafia. http://wp.me/P2C8Zz-py

Top Gun

Actually a woman, Katrina. She used to drink Grolsch, which comes in those bottles with a captive stopper so they make a big bang when you open them. It was widely but wrongly rumoured she shot down a Stealth bomber over Kosovo with a Grolsch top that went walkabout, hence Top Gun.

Widget and Wingnut

Bit unkind this. John and Les were the pub bores, forever droning on about aircraft maintenance, a trade in which they were both involved. If it wasn’t that it was historic vehicles.

Jed Clampett

John, the landlord of a pub I used to use in Stansted. The derivation of this soubriquet is lengthy and tedious. He was aka Mr Growly. No explanation needed, I’m sure.

Geoffrey Archer

This now disgraced British politician and incredibly bad author was a regular. It wasn’t him of course; just a bloke called Mick who looked just like him.