KIM Kardashian was recently spotted having a pint in a London pub. Which celebrities would ruin your local if they were always propping up the bar?
Kanye West
Popping in for a swift drink after work, you’re collared by Kanye who’s standing at the bar, four pints down. You politely humour his conspiracy theory ramblings for half an hour, but when he starts telling you Hitler was a cool guy, actually, you decide it’s time to leave. He should be barred really, but Gary the landlord is also a massive racist and they’ve struck up an unlikely but firm friendship.
Gwyneth Paltrow
You’re enjoying a quiet Saturday afternoon pint when Gwyneth trails in with four friends who have nine entitled little shits of children between them. They take over half the pub with their large, expensive handbags and loud voices, and then monopolise the bar staff for 20 minutes going through each item on the menu and asking if it’s vegan and gluten-free, even though every meal is clearly a variation of meat and chips in a basket.
James Corden
A pleasant night having a quiet chat with friends is ruined the second Corden bangs through the door, slaps everyone hard on the back and demands ‘A pint of your finest Stella, mister landlord, sir’. After downing it in one go, he orders another and then starts booming out an unfunny anecdote that’s so loud and annoying nobody else can hold a conversation.
Christian Bale
The whole pub goes silent when Bale walks in. He stares intensely at the barman, whose hand shakes as he pours Bale a pint. You’re sitting alone so he decides to join you, and you spend the whole time wondering if he’s going to suddenly freak out for some tiny, perceived slight and throw you out of a window. He actually wants to talk about his role in Terminator Salvation so when he goes for a piss you leg it to another pub down the road.
Nadine Dorries
You regret nipping out to the smoking area when you spot Nadine there, halfway through a bottle of cheap rosé and gobbing off obnoxiously to anyone in earshot. Later you see her slumped in a corner, weeping about some guy called Boris, before she’s sick in the loos and someone begrudgingly calls her a taxi.
