Chaps, seriously now - are you going to take advice from a man who calls himself Bobby Guzzler?
I've been unfortunate enough to see him around in London; occasionally he and his ruffian friends descend on a certain little cafe in Chelsea which I frequent with Simon, my life partner, and make remarks that scandalise the charming Latvian and Kurdish waitresses, not to mention those of us who enjoy alternative lifestyles. They seem to enjoy drinking a concoction called "waa'er" (?) and find something terribly amusing about girls from Newcastle and gentlemen with oriental wives.
I'd steer clear of this one. Obviously a couple of waves short of an ocean.
