Thursday, December 8, 2011

Black Bear Lodge

Another closed bar. Their website says they are hoping to reopen when they find a new location. I wouldn't bet on it though. If you find a new spot why use the old name? It wasn't exactly the 40/40 Club. Let's get to it.

Carpets. Oh lord, here we go again with the carpets. Does this work anywhere? What is underneath here that is so much worse? Pentagrams. Of course. They roll back the rugs after hours and this is where satanic rituals are held. I was conceived during a satanic ritual. Maybe that's why I feel so at home in these places.

Shitty television. Carpets and shitty TV's go together like peanut butter and jelly. I actually hate jelly. You get the point though. Some things are forever linked. Entwined. Twisting their way to the floor where they bang like animals. Which one is the lady? Carpets or shitty TV's? Trick question. They're both ladies.

There was a back area with wood tables. It was probably good if you are in a group. I was there with only two other people though so we didn't go back there. We met at midnight. One of the reasons I like NY is because you can meet at midnight and still have 4 full hours of bar time. Some people work late. What are they supposed to do wait until the weekend? This is America. Nobody should ever have to wait until the weekend.

$10 buckets. This is why we came. It was PBR. They were really cold. Cold cans of beer. No food at all. I do like food at the bar. Even if it's just some fries. If you are there long enough you are going to need something to eat. There is a 7 Eleven across the street. You could have gotten some cheap hot dogs or taquitos there. Buy some smokes too. Just make it a trashy night. Go for it.

One day while driving a cab I picked up two people leaving Bull's Head, a bar across the street from Black Bear. It was sometime between 4:30 and 5:00 AM. They were both hammered. Hammered people love to talk. They guy got out a few blocks away. The girl was staying until Astoria though. She wanted to chat and she was way cute. She was from Louisiana and she moved up here to be an actress. Of course. She was a bartender though. Just finishing her shift. The guy was a regular and she gave him a ride home since he spent so much money at the bar. Heart of gold. I'm in love now.

She asked if I've ever been to the bar before and I said no. I had  been to a bar across the street though that I really liked and it closed. She practically jumped out of her seat and asked the name of it. I told her Black Bear Lodge and she said that used to be her place. She was the regular bartender there. She told me the whole story about their lease problems. The owners have a few other places around the city. Including Bull's Head. So they gave her a job there. She missed Black Bear though. We all do. So if you're at Bull's Head and your bartender is a cute blonde girl from Louisiana tip her well. She might give you a lift home.


Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Common Ground

Sometimes when you get drunk you get emotional. My night at Common Ground ended with a failed Irish goodbye. Followed by walking around the East Village with a homeless guy begging for change. Resigned to living the rest of my life in Tompkins Square Park. Then I saved it by eating a knish at Katz. Then it all went to shit again because I had to wait so long for my subway home. At night Brooklyn bound trains run on the tears of hipsters. An inefficient fuel. Its so hard to fish tears out of beards.

There are books here. Why? This isn't the time or the place to read Moby Dick. Really. I love to read but it's dark. Outside of a dog a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read. And inside Common Ground. 

I've noticed books at other places too. I guess to make us feel like we are drinking cognac in our study. It's an illusion ruined by how much urine is on the floor of the bathroom. Especially after I'm done in there. Yes. I'm that guy. I'll lock the door and helicopter it. 

They had some kind of 2 for 1 deal on food. Nobody wanted to eat though so I got nuts. Just regular nuts. Paid 4 bucks for them. Which is kind of shitty. Didn't bars used to have free nuts? Is that just a movie thing? God I'd love that. If you know a place that has them let me know. 

Happy hour was $2 beers. Yuengling. $2 is great for the city. Unlike 3rd and Long these beers are pints. However 3rd and Long goes all night. So I guess I'd rather do 3rd and Long still if it's just about cheap beer. 

They have board games here which is fun. We played one. I sucked but whatever. Nothing wrong with board games. Cool couches. This is a good place to come with a small group. I don't know if you can do a board game with just two people. Maybe Connect Four? Guess Who? Battleship. Ok, there are a lot of games. Those games suck though. So like I said, small group. Get wrecked. Convince somebody to get food. Play a game. And then after there is a karoake place across the street. If that's your thing. 

Cheap happy hour
Board games
Lots of seasonal decorations

None really. Kind of blah.


Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Russian Vodka Room

Some memories no matter how good make you sick to think about. Things change. My time here was awesome and it comes up often. Even though it upsets me. My eager excitement to return is mixed with a healthy dose of dread and remorse. Confused you are. Sorry about that I am. These waters run deep.

Vodka comes from potatoes. And gin comes from vodka. But they aren't the same. I love vodka but gin is one of the few things I'd rather not drink. In fact I only know two people who liked gin. Joe is one. The other. Well. He doesn't drink it anymore.

Vodka doesn't freeze until 17 below. Making it colder than ice. Pretty bad ass move, Vodka.  I keep two bottles in my freezer. A cheap one and an expensive one. I have a favorite drink I make with it. It's called a DIG. For "Dad, I'm Gay." Don't freak and call that homophobic. Escape From Park Slope is a blog promoting tolerance of all people. It's just not the cliche manly drink.

Here's the recipe. It's really easy. Pint glass. Fill it with ice. Straw of course. Fill it half with orange vodka and half with diet Sprite. Coat the rim with semen. No, I'm kidding about the semen! That's it.

So what's the place like? It's small. Dark. Very authentic Russian. Don't expect french fries on the menu. Don't expect anything other than vodka. They have their own. Jars of it all over. Infused with different flavors. Happy hour is 4-7. And the shots are $3. Now I remember why I had such a good time. There is a piano too but when I was there it didn't get played. If I return here I could bang out something off my bucket list.

Cheap, good vodka
Fun atmosphere

Gets crowded
Probably expensive once happy hour is over
Food might be too different for most people


Monday, November 7, 2011

Bucket List

A break from the regularly scheduled programming.

I had been thinking about bucket lists. Then two of my favorite shows referenced them on TV. So I was planning on writing one and sending it out in an e-mail. However, I thought that might scare the shit out of everybody I'm e-mailing. Is Jim dying? Did he send me this because he wants me to do this stuff with him? No. I actually went to the doctor recently and he told me I'm in perfect health. It's just something fun I'm thinking about. So here's what I got. Not a complete list. And not completely out of place. There's drinking in here babe. I mean it's my list right?

See the Grand Canyon - Cliche but it's the truth. I've never seen a natural wonder. Not much in it for me. I'm interested in function not form. Factory shows relax me not sunsets. I play city builders for hours. The Grand Canyon though. Woo boy. I'd love to get right up on the edge of that thing. Lean back. Breathe in deeply. And then shoot a load across it. Gahhhhhhh

Drink Vintage Alcohol - My grandfathers both left old booze behind. Long story short. I drank them and got sick. So fear is not a factor. I don't want wine. There has to be some kind of rum buried on a beach somewhere or on a sunken ship that I can have. Pirate style. 

Drink Moonshine - White lightening. The real shit. I want to drink something that'll burn from my lips to my gut. And have me seeing stars from just one slug. 

Get drunk with my father - Kurt Vonnegut says we can't write about our father. He won't let us. So I won't. I'll just say this one is technically impossible. I wanted to visit a friend and get drunk with her father. Hijack him. Sit down. Have some drinks. I want to get drunk with a father like figure. Hear some good advice. Share stupid stories. It'll happen one day. 

Cook something outside - Could easily tie this into the previous one. I want to sit outside in a shitty chair and  fry a turkey or smoke some meat. Something that takes hours. Maybe light a cigar. 

Shoot a handgun - I've shot a gun before. Shotguns and rifles. Never a handgun though. See it all the time in movies and television. I just want to know what it's like. Maybe turn that shit sideways. 

Write something longer than 50 pages - A play, movie or book. Doesn't really matter. I've got ideas for them all. Doesn't matter if anybody else ever reads it either.

Drive cross country. I did this once North to South. It was a disaster. I'd like to try again. The classic way. East to West. I'd need a partner. Open to anybody. As long as they speak English and aren't too high strung.

Vegas - Ma'am where do the high school girls hang out in this town? I'm a guy. I'll end up here eventually.

Plant a tree - I've always wanted to plant an apple tree and eat an apple from it. Johnny Appleseed stories had a profound impact on me as a child.

War and Peace - To read this monster. I've read a thousand page book before but this is my white whale. Another reason? You can buy a used copy of War and Peace on Amazon right now for $0.01.  At 1472 pages it's a great time spent = money spent ratio.

Hunt a shark - Is this unethical? I don't know. I could make the most of it. I'd eat it I guess. And I'd definitely snort its ground up fins to make my dick hard.

Cruise - I want to go on a cruise. I wish I had more glamorous travel choices but I'm being honest. I want to eat food. Get drunk. Work out. Be crammed in a tiny room with my girlfriend. Play shuffleboard with old dudes.

Blues bar - Or a piano bar. I've never been to a bar where people are sitting around listening to music. Where does Woody Allen go? I live in New York this might be the easiest thing on the list.

Smoke a Cuban - What's his name? Oh stop. Nick Cannon is hilarious daddy. I smoke a cigar occasionally. Probably not enough to be able to tell the difference but who knows? I've had fresh mozzarella and it's a lot better than Polly-O.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Third and Long

I drank alone here one day. For hours. When you are at a bar alone interesting things happen. Especially when you have eyes as kind and big as mine. Windows to the soul right? What's my soul doing in there? Masturbating of course. What's wrong with him? Always masturbating. My soul is Conan's masturbating bear.

The day I was alone there was weird.

1. I walked in alone. They had double doors that I couldn't figure out. I'm always afraid I'll break things so I'm extra careful. Like I'm the Incredible Hulk or something. I'm so stupid. After I figured it out a bunch of guys at the bar laughed at me and were like "You got the hang of it now?" I said "Yeah thanks, fuck you guys." We're adults now you know? Nobody is going to tell your parents on you and it's not against the law to say fuck you to a stranger. Go for it. They laughed and bought me a shot.

2. One of the guys there had a dog. A big ass dog named Left Eye. Like after the TLC singer. The one married to Andre Rison. There is no way I'm putting a TLC video at the end of this post.

3. There was a woman alone there as well. A tourist from Toronto. She had bad teeth and was staying with her mom but I would have banged her. She was a music teacher and a hippy. Our conversation ended when she left in search of weed. She wanted me to help her but I'm already at a bar, Honey. It's clear what my substance choice is.

4. Now I'm actually alone. They don't have food here and I had a peanut butter sandwich in my bag. Wrapped in tinfoil. I asked the bartender and he let me eat it. Just sitting in an empty bar in silence eating a peanut butter sandwich. There are 8 million people in NYC. Sometimes though you are going to feel like Will Smith in I Am Legend.

Review stuff. No food. Dollar pizza slices a block away though. You can't go wrong eating dollar slices. I think they'll let you bring them in to the bar. If you can bring dogs and peanut butter sandwiches in how can they stop you from bringing in pizza?

It's a hockey bar. Might as well call it a Who Cares bar right? Who Cares Bears? Oh I like that. The mascot could be a completely disinterested Care Bear. Making dismissive hand wanking gestures about everything.

The bathroom is downstairs. I hate this. I understand the need to maximize your space in NYC but this seems dangerous to me. Also dangerous? No chair backs. This is not a safe place for drunk people. If you want to look like a hero though just walk around catching drunk girls falling off their chairs. Did you drop something miss? Like yourself? Off this chair?

Tuesday nights the beers are two dollars. I combined that with Third Floor Cafe's Tuesday deal this week and went out with a friend. It was an awesome time. I bought her a shot at the end of the night and I think it killed her. How many more people die from shots of booze than bullets? Right? None? Oh.

Cheap beer
Bring your own sandwiches

No chair backs
I like dogs but I leave Park Slope to get away from them in my bars

CONCLUSION: This is a good cheap place. Convenient location. Not cool in anyway but it's useful. I'll take a two dollar beer to the face anytime.


Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Buffalo Wild Wings

Recently I visited some friends in the DC area. Our plan was to go to a bar on Sunday afternoon to watch the football games. Something new for the blog. I've written about good places, bad places and secret places. This would be the first time I've gone to a place knowing ahead of time that I was going to write about it. Real professional writer type shit huh? Leaving the comfort zone of NY but Washington DC is a major city. Full of places that are cool or weird that I've never been to before. Cool, weird, never been to? We ended up at Buffalo Wild Wings.

Buffalo Wild Wings is a chain sports bar with commercials that wildly exaggerate how good a time it is. The commercials are effective though since every time one opens there are long lines for weeks. One opened in my town back home before I moved. Now the town I'm from only has two bars. Both of which are terrifying places to be. So I was excited for Buffalo Wild Wings. I knew it wasn't going to be as good as the commercials but I expected it to be a good cheap sports bar with one giant projection screen. It wasn't so I moved an hour away.

Right off the bat you'll notice that screen from the commercials isn't there. Maybe it is at some Buffalo Wild Wings somewhere but there isn't one at any one I've been too. They'll have several large screens and plenty of TVs.  No giant projection screen though. The only place they'll have something like that is at Cowboy Stadium and if I ever end up there it's to burn the place down.

The prices aren't terrible. It's basically Applebee's with worse food and more televisions. Bars like that do have their place in the world. It's just a place where nothing else exists. Dust Bowl, Death Valley, Salt Flats, rural South. If I lived in a place like that I'd go there. However, I don't. So why would I? I'd rather go to a bar. Or drink in my apartment. Or if I have to go out I'd rather eat a Dave's Big and Juicy and crush a 30 rack in the parking lot of a Wendy's. Maybe shoot some fireworks. Make a drunk Facebook status about how unappreciated I am.

There really isn't much I can say about Buffalo Wild Wings that separates it from other similar chains. Their servers wear Buffalo Wild Wings sports jerseys. Raiders colors at the last one. Maybe for Al Davis. Did the Cryptkeeper eat at The Wings? If you told me regularly eating at Buffalo Wild Wings would allow me to live to be at least 82 years old I'd have to consider it. Ultimately I'd flip you the bird while eating a slice of pizza. "Fuhgeddaboudit." I'm ready to go now. Before Jose Reyes leaves the Mets and Arrested Development is ruined. I've already seen the movie where Jessica Biel gets naked. And what would that be another 100 years or something? I'm not doing the math. Fuck you, fuck Buffalo Wild Wings. Cryptkeeper you're cool. Fuck Al Davis.

Many options for wing flavors. Including Salt and Vinegar.
Light draft beers
Handicapped stall. It's like your own private bathroom.

I'm a snob.
The wings aren't really the secret to long living.
Jessica Biel was naked for 5 seconds and that movie was depressing as hell.

I think we can conclude I'm a bad person from this entry. In all seriousness though don't go here. If somebody has a gun to your head, well sometimes those things jam don't they? Take that risk. Unless you live in any of the above mentioned places. Then go, enjoy. Mangia. Try the honey BBQ. Honey BBQ is always good. Be well.


Wednesday, October 5, 2011

The Whiskey Brooklyn

It's a drinking blog so let's start with a drinking story. Or a drinking lesson. Story with a lesson. It's a parable baby. 

Recently I was at a wedding imbibing some mixed drinks when the bartender said to me "Please, tell me if it's too strong and I'll make you a new one." A greater insult I have not endured. Slap me with your little white glove and shoot me in the chest kind sir. Never question my strength or desire to drink my face off. I replied "What? No. Usually I'm what's too strong. So you tell me if I'm being too strong for you." The next drink I got from him was straight vodka. I ordered rum and cokes from a different bartender for the rest of the night, tail firmly between my legs and up my ass. Maybe one day I will have the bro power to chug that vodka in his face and yell "That all you got?!?!" Instead for now I'll have to learn from the experience. Be humble. Be appreciative. 

It was about a year ago that I went to Whiskey Brooklyn. It was cold and a little cloudy. A day similar to today. It was a little closer to Halloween though. Maybe the week before. I was alone. Early to meet a friend. I like going to bars first. Scope it out. Ask what the cheapest drink is. Try out a couple of seats. I was there alone for a few hours. Playing musical chairs by myself only takes about 20 minutes. It's not Madison Square Garden you know? There is a limited number of chairs to jump on and off. 

It's one of those "light or dark" beer places. I'm never impressed by bars that want to overwhelm you with choices. This is New York. You're never going to try all their beers. There's a million places to go. How many times do you go back to any one place? Unless you live right above it. I went with pitchers of the light while watching the Friday The 13th movies on the big television. It was great.  

Whiskey Brooklyn is dark. Low lights. This is what everyplace should be. If I wanted lots of light I'd go to my doctor's office to get drunk. He hates when I do that. 

They have hipster food. Fish tacos. Bacon stuff. Bacon is the sacred cow of the interwebs. I'm not a fan though. Go ahead and take away my internet. I don't dine on swine. 

There are games to play here. My mission was to get as drunk as possible while letting Jason Voorhees scare the shit out of me. I'd check out the games next time though. They are probably a lot of fun. 

Pickle backs. I don't know if this is where they originated. I just know this is where they are the most popular and what everybody talks about who has been here. They have spicy ones too. If you want to be manly get the spicy. Maybe you don't need it He-man. I just got punked by a wedding bartender though. Figure a month of spicy picklebacks is an adequate penance. 

I actually wrote notes for this bar after I left. The one thing I haven't covered is "great pisser." This must have been at the end of the night. Since I have absolutely no recollection of the bathroom. I'm very particular about public restrooms though so I'm sure it's a good spot. Let it fly. 

Locations. It's next to Brooklyn Brewery. 
Bacon. Not for me but it's for everybody else. Like normal relationships with opposite sex. 
Pickle backs. 
Good music. 
It's just cool. 

I'm sure it gets packed. 

CONCLUSIONS: This might be the best bar I've ever been to. And after being here awhile you can go next door to the Brewery. It's pathetic I've only done this once. I need to get out of Park Slope more often. 


Thursday, September 29, 2011

Third Floor Cafe

One day you walk into a jewelry shop in K-town. Time to buy that ring. Let's think this through though. Nobody is dreaming of the ring you can afford. And she's kind of mean. Like really mean. Bad bad Leroy Brown mean. Badder than old King Kong. Meaner than a junkyard dog. You think she might have cheated on you but you can't prove it. Seriously if you do this your family will disown you so fast you won't even have time to stop at the house to get your old Nintendo. So you decide to sleep on it. At your mom's place. You can't go home tonight. You'll soon realize there is no such thing as love. She will never love you. You're floating in the ocean. Alone. Waiting for a cruise ship full of partying singles to come ripping through your about to capsize inflatable raft. The Rum Ham fell overboard hours ago anyway. What's left? What's the point? Take me to your dark and murky bosom mighty Poseidon I brokenly concede. I mean take you. You are taken. Not me. I'm fine. 

One day you walk into a jewelry shop in K-town and none of that happens. Whew. What a relief. So now you really are in a jewelry shop. Why are you in a jewelry shop? This is silly. You go to walk out and see an elevator. Just a random elevator. No idea where it goes. You get in. This also really happens. People are in there. Drunk people. They bring you up to the third floor. Congratulations. You have made it to the Third Floor Cafe. 

First thing you'll notice is you aren't Korean. Unless you are. Then you'll fit right in. Nice. Hee-seop Choi still sucked. It's well decorated with blah blah. I don't know. It looked nice. Don't make me break into my Design Star vocabulary to describe it. 

It's a Korean place so along with all the Korean people and servers the food is Korean. They have chicken tonkatsu. It's a fried chicken that wikipedia is telling me is Japanese. Please don't tell me everything here is Japanese. Jesus am I a racist? Yelp says this place is KOREAN. Thank god. I didn't keep one black friend my whole life just to blow it on a blog entry. I'd tear this mother down first. They also have a pork dish. 

If you aren't interested in new cultures or secret bars (leave this blog) then you might be interested in the drink special. $18 all you can drink on Tuesdays. It's all you can eat too but who cares. All you can drink for $18. In Manhattan. Not Manhattan, Kansas. NYC. You know you've paid $10 for a beer before. Get skunked and ride up and down in a rickety elevator for $18. 

Secret bar
$18 Tuesdays

Nothing I can think of. Food was a little weird. You might feel like you are sticking out. 

CONCLUSIONS: The Tuesday deal is really awesome. I'd love to go back. 


Monday, September 19, 2011

Irish Cottage

I’m Irish.  Partly.  Half Irish. I’m also the only one in my family that’s never actually been to Ireland. So I never feel Irish enough to tell people I’m Irish. Although I did stay home from school one St. Patrick’s Day to watch Leprechaun 4: In Space.  I don’t know. I love Irish culture. If I had to go on a vacation outside the United States I’d want to go to Ireland. Fish and chips. Green grass everywhere. Gingers. The music. Potatoes.  Whiskey in the middle of the day. And nobody chilling it either. Don’t ask me if I want my whiskey chilled. Ask me if I want my testicles removed. Don’t ask me if I want my whiskey chilled. Unless I’m with a girl and she wants it chilled. Then chill the shit out of it. I mean we’re not in Ireland now are we?

The Irish Cottage is like me. It’s partly Irish. It’s probably never been to Ireland though. Maybe it’s had Sheppards Pie once.  Jerked off to the nude scene in Leprechaun 4: In Space. Cried 3 times while watching PS I Love You. It’s not really Irish though.

It’s a small carpeted bar area. You don’t see many carpeted bars. I guess because unless you change it out often it can look really trashy. Not that it matters for Irish Cottage. The wobbly tables and low lifes that hang around here assure it’ll stay trashy no matter what’s on the floor. They have a big back room for parties. Never really seen it though because it’s closed off. They do have food and since I have no regard for my own well being I ate it once. If you are here and find yourself hungry there is a gas station about a block away. Unless you have a diarrhea competition later that night that you’ve already entered. Then by all means stay, mangia.

Some weird stuff has happened here. They used to have a Jets cheerleader as a bartender.  She looked like Anna Torv from Fringe. I watched the Knicks lose to the Bucks on their surprisingly decent television. The weirdest thing though was one night Congressman and IRA friend Peter King was hanging out there getting BOMBED with his buddies and talking in a silly Irish brogue. It was memorable. 

One nice TV 
Great location. Train station. Lots of bars around it.
Meet with your local Congressman. 

The carpet must smell terrible
Always seems to be fights here

CONCLUSION: I see Ireland in my future. Irish Cottage though not so much. I did have some good times here but it was more a result of the people I was with than the place we were at. 


Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden

NYC history lesson: this is the oldest beer garden in New York. It's been open since 1910.
My family history lesson: my parents had their first date here. 
With the knowledge of these two things one summer day I made the trek from Brooklyn. Basically taking the R train it's entire length. Joe came too and we were dressed all in white for a white party later that night. 

It was the Czech Festival at the Beer Garden. So it was packed. I expected tall blonde women smoking cigarettes. And tall dark men. Also smoking cigarettes. Lots of cigarettes. Like Casablanca. Even though that was in Morocco. And she was a brunette. And a gin joint is nothing like a beer garden. But that guy was Czech. And I like that movie.

The actual place was nothing like I expected it to be. Or like Rick's. There was some smoking but it was a packed place. Body to body. And there was a wide mix of people. Local cheap drunk crazies. A toothless guy talked to me about some nonsense every time I was left alone. I wasn't drunk enough to get into it yet  though. There were a lot of families. This Czech festival is a cultural and community celebration more than a drinking event. There was a stage set up and a program. It was like a grade school talent show.

The most memorable part of the talent show was the gymnastics routine. There was lots of flipping. And comical crotch bulges. I was actually in the front row. Not planned that way but the organizers threw the last mat down in front of me. I guess I'd have been on catcher duty if somebody somersaulted or shoulder rolled too far. How do you appropriately catch a scantily clad pre-teen girl? Or a jacked guy with a crotch bulge big enough to knock over a well rooted tree? I think I would have let them cartwheel past me into the crowd. I didn't go to the Beer Garden to feel sexually confused in front of a few hundred non smokers. I came to honor my dead parents while dressed like ghosts with my brother.

I'm assuming most of this is unusual for the Beer Garden.  There are some constants that I experienced though. The beer was good. If you like good beer. It's either dark or light. That's how you order it. I think. I mean that's how I did it. By the end I was just pointing. Speechless by how drunk I was. Strong beer always sneaks up on me. I'm too distracted bitching about how bad it tastes and trying to shake off bitter beer face.

The food was good too. Chicken schnitzel and it came in a massive portion. I had to split it to save room for the beer. There was some potato salad with it as well.  It was awesome. How's that for a food review? Pick up a Zagat's dude. I'm here to get drunk.

Good food
Strong beer

Crowded. We stood almost the entire time.
Children. I feel weird partying in front of babies. Escape From Park Slope you know?

CONCLUSION: Drinking outside is fun. Anything outside is fun. It's primal. We're cave people. Circling the opposite sex. Getting dirty. Looking for shade. Listening to Lisa Loeb on our iPads while writing blog entries. I'd come back here. Preferably not dressed all in white. With my retro sunglasses and white headband I looked like I was in a hipster wedding party.


Thursday, September 8, 2011


Do you like the letter Z? No, no. Wait. Do you LOVE the letter z? Were you Zorro for Halloween the past 10 years? Was Ziggy your favorite comic strip? Ever had a ZJ? What’s a ZJ? Well if you have to ask…

I had heard of this place before I came here. Somebody told me it was a classier Hooters with gourmet food. That was false. Well the Hooters part was right. These girls are chesty and were dressed scandalous.  No orange spandex  here. Cut denim shorts. Jorts. Daisy Dukes. Whatever you want to call them is fine with me and my penis. Which is throbbing so hard while I’m typing this it’s about to shoot off my body and land on the moon. Yes, it’s possible. It’s the tragic curse of all men in my family. The moon isn’t just made of cheese baby. It’s littered with the genitals of Brennan men. Don’t tell Joe!

So I like breasts. Pretty normal. I like women in jean shorts. Maybe a little chauvinistic but it’s less demeaning than orange spandex. Either way not unusual. How about that letter Z though? Well no. I don’t like the letter Z. It’s my least favorite letter. Letter Z. It’s the letter that tries to be cool. He’s like “Hey, put me on the end of words! Use me instead of the letter s! Pay attention to me! I’m worth so many points in Words with Friends! Don’t you play that! Everybody playz that bro! Do you like my high waters!? Yes they’re in again didn’t you see Ryan Gosling wear them?”

The menu, the website, the whole damn building is riddled with the letter Z. Like the moon with spent Brennan cocks. I get it. I’m young. I’m fun. I like to have a good time. Hell, I even think Gosling looks sweet in those high waters. When you jam me up with the letter Z though it makes me feel like some fat cats in suits are trying to “get me. “ I’m not more likely to order appetizerz than appetizers.  Same with sandwichez, sidez, burgerz. Wingz. What kind of asshole do you think I am?

This place has another theme though. It’s not just T and Z. They sell all their beers in cans. I’m not going to count the list. Let’s say 100 ok? It’s a lot. They even have talls boys. Including Keystone Light tall boys. Most excellent work Canz. Most excellent.

Free popcorn

Crappy TGI Fridays food.
Terrible location.

CONLSUSION: The location alone means I’ll probably never return here again. Massive bonus points for beer and shorts selection. Maybe I can have a denim shorts and canned beer party. It’s a better idea than my Hunter S. Thompson theme party. Look out for the Facebook invite.


Monday, September 5, 2011

Lincoln Park Grill

The first drunk entry. It was highly requested but it didn’t have to be. It’s a day that was coming. The sun will rise in the east. The Yankees will have the highest payroll. And I will be drunk again one day. Here it is. I wish there could be some awesome drunk story behind it. But I just went to brunch. That’s it. Bloody Mary’s. Beer from my keg and here we are. It won’t be much different from a regular entry. Except that I’ll be playing Bruce Springsteen or Nighthawks at the Diner on my laptop the entire time. And I’ll race off point to some distant place, Farofftopica. 

This is a drinking blog so I’d like to talk about Bloody Marys quickly. I don’t like them. I don’t really like any breakfast drink. I like shots and beers and rum and diets. And orange vodka with Sprite. Gun to the head I’d take a Jack and Coke too. And I’ve finished other people’s gin and tonics. If we’re at a Mexican place I’ll take a margarita I guess. Rocks. Slushees are for girls. Point? Well none of them are breakfast drinks. Unless you’re my Uncle Vito. Who won’t be reading this. Because he’s Italian. And dead. Dead men tell no tales. Or read Escape From Park Slope.

Bloody Marys would be preferably to Mimosas . As long as they are spicy and aren’t too thick. Rich Gage told me horseradish thickens it up. Which sucks because I like horseradish. Horseradish fact. A lot of Sushi places use horseradish and green food coloring instead of real wasabi. Wasabi costs $100 per pound. So I guess a good Bloody Mary for me will have more pepper in it. Bloody Mary is one of the only things I can taste pepper in. I have a weak palette. My tongue is dead. It doesn’t read Escape From Park Slope.

Lincoln Park Grill is located on 57th and 9th Avenue. It doesn’t have much competition from other bars. Anything else nearby is either classier or a disgrace to the New York bar scene. (cough, cough Jake’s Saloon) I’ve been laid off twice and ended up here. The first time I went alone and literally cried in my beers all night while some models tried cheering me up. Like actual models. Giant, skinny, beautiful women in town for Fashion Week. Only in New York right? And only in New York would somebody who looks like me say “No, giant beautiful women. Please leave me alone.”   

The second time I got laid off and ended up there I had an “I Got Fired” party. It was a Facebook event. They ended up firing me a day earlier than scheduled though. So I had to go back in to where I work the next day to go to the “I got fired” party I had set up for myself.

Now you know why I was there. What I found was pretty cool. $5 pizzas.  Do you love pizza? Any pizza? I enjoy even the shittiest pizzas. I go to Chinese Buffets and eat the pizza. So I don’t know if you’ll like this pizza. I enjoy it though. It’s big and at $5 it’s one of the best food deals I’ve seen in the city. $3 PBR tall boys. PBR was just the cheap shitty beer for awhile. Then it became the ironic hipster beer. Then Budweiser kind of became the ironic hipster beer. But PBR hasn’t fully gone back to the shit beer list. It still has some cool cred. So drink it. Don’t feel bad.

They have a good happy hour. I remember always getting pitchers. So they had to be $10 or under. I also remember they don’t have a ramp and it’s down some stairs. So they have a handicap elevator. It’s incredibly loud. Not babies in Park Slope loud. It’s loud though.  So if you’re handicapped and don’t want every drunk out of work loser who is rudely ignoring the models all around him staring at you while they lower you into the bar on what is basically a forklift don’t come here. It’s a big city. Just don’t go to Jake’s either.

$5 dollar whole pizzas
Good nachos
Cheap drinks
Nice televisions

Attractive women will try to talk to you
Poorly designed for the handicapped
Terrible service. Makes me long for the future where robots are bartender.

CONCLUSION: It’s cheap so that’s cool. It kind of sucks but I’d come here just for the pizza. I have pretty terrible memories of this place so I’ll be avoiding for awhile. 


Saturday, August 27, 2011

Black Forest Brew Haus

My sister asked me when I'd actually review a good bar. I replied that every bar I reviewed got positive ratings. Then she told me that the things I look for in a bar don't make it a good bar. Just a bar I like. I pondered this while shotgunning a Keystone Ice tall boy and think I know what she means now. So this is the first "good" bar I went to.

I've actually been to Black Forest many times. I worked nearby and we'd order takeout. And my family had been going there for awhile. And then my friends started going there. And I still go back once in awhile for the Sunday brunch/cheesecake brownies.

The deal is they make their own beer and they have good food. It sucks. The end.

Would it be funny or lazy if I really ended it there? Let's start with the beer. I mean that's really the most important thing. It's a Brew Haus after all. It's dark, heavy and bitter. As much as I drink beer I don't reach for the quality stuff.  I really do prefer the cheapest gutter swill available. It's just easier to drink. I never understand why people like "good" beer. It tastes like it was filtered through a dirty sock. Is it? Is that the key? If it is I've got loads of dirty socks. Let's start a brewery. Just don't take the sock off my night stand. The one that has Hess's brother's name on it and is stiff as a board.

They always have a Pilsner, Amber and Hefe-weizen. If I was getting a regular one I'd probably go with Hefe. It's supposed to taste like bananas but I didn't taste any. Maybe it tastes like Johnny Bananas. Then they have crazy beers that have high alcohol content. If you're there to get wrecked these are the bastards that'll do it. They are seasonal and change frequently so you won't know what's available until you are there reading the chalkboard. I remember a barley wine that had 14% or something insane. And sometimes they have chocolate beer. Any of you beer queens out there know if this stuff has actual chocolate in it? When I hate it and just give it to my dog will it kill him?

Speaking of bringing the beer home, you can. Hooray. I'm over joyed. They have growlers, half gallon jugs that cost $12. And if you go green and bring it back a refill will only cost you $8. I like that. I'd like it more if it was Coors Light. Do they make Coors Light Ice? I guess I can just fill a growler with Coors Light and Everclear. Make my own Coors Light Ice.

That's it on the beer. I don't like it but I drink it. You probably have more class and a better palate than I do. So you might love it.  The food we can all agree on. It's good. Good sandwiches, German specialty stuff. They have pretzel bread for the sandwiches so that's cool.

In the way of entertainment this place doesn't offer much. I can't remember if there is a jukebox. I don't think there is. They used to have dueling pianos which was cool. Guys playing covers on piano. They take requests. Piano music on Long Island. Expect Billy Joel. Demand "She's Always A Woman"

Last thing, this is where we met Janine! So if you had a great time at their wedding or just love her new haircut  swing by here and pay respects.

Great parking lot to drink cheap beer in
Good food
Janine was there
Only bar my sister will go with me to
Dueling pianos

The beer gives you a bad hangover
Middle of nowhere

CONCLUSION: I think Sock Beer and Coors Light Ice could be a good start for my own Brew Haus. The only food we'd serve is pretzel dogs from Rusty Knot and mozzarella sticks from Millers. Janine and Elise are the bartenders. Pete and Hess are security. Red heads drink free. I have a lot of memories from Black Forest.  And I piss all over it but I'm thankful for it's existence.


Monday, August 22, 2011

The Rusty Knot

The first time I went to the Rusty Knot I arrived in a limo after filming a segment for a TV show.  I waited on line then refused to go inside and went to Rockville Centre instead for 4 free shots of Jameson and a grilled cheese. It was a great day.

Had I gone inside though I would have found my happy place. The drinks rule here. $1.50 beers are the special. If I buy a six pack of Bud Light in Park Slope just to bring home I’m spending more than that. They have pickle backs. For the uninitiated it’s a whiskey shot followed by a shot of pickle juice. They also have a house cocktail called The Rusty Knot. It’s a frozen mojito. Frozen drinks are for girls. They should come with a complimentary vacuum. I immediately regret saying that. That’s insane. I’m sorry. Who can afford to give away vacuums? Dish washing gloves!

The jukebox is free. They have Tom Petty in it but it’s not allowed. I assume because it’s just the most played out jukebox choice of all time. Have you ever been to a bar and not heard American Girl? Has anybody? If American Girl plays in a bar but nobody is there to hear it is it still lame?  Misfits. Bob Dylan. Replacements.  Rolling Stones. That’s what I remember. Wild Horses is the groan inducer I’ll pick here.

Food! Pretzel dogs.  It’s a hot dog wrapped in a pretzel.  Or a dream wrapped in a wish. Usually I can only find these in Penn Station. If that’s not enough sodium to kill you they also have potato wedges. Tacos al pastor are supposed to be amazing but I’ve been scared off by the pineapple. I’d imagine one day soon I’ll be in there feeling food snobbish and I’ll order them. “Pretzel dogs? Are you going to microwave them in your trailer on a leftover TV dinner tray? Give me the slow roasted pork taco with the Serrano chili pineapple salsa.”  

They also have Sloppy Joes but I’ve never seen somebody get them.  Confession, I had to research Sloppy Joes for this. I’ve never seen one. Loose meat sandwiches. That’s what she said? They are also known as Steamers in parts of the South.  Always thought Steamers were more of a Cleveland thing. I don’t want to eat that kind either.  Yeah, that was a 5 sentence set up for a terrible joke.

Do you ever want to splash water on your face? But you’re afraid everybody else in the bathroom is going to think you are about to start bathing? They have private bathrooms here. Splash away. 

Pool table.  Stars on the felt. It goes with the eclectic nautical vibe. If Sailor Jerry’s had a bar this would be it. Or Brian Wilson. I wish Brian Wilson was the bartender. He’d tell me I’d had enough. And I’d say “Really Brian Wilson? Star closer for the San Francisco Giants? You think I’ve had enough?” and we’d just laugh.  He’d throw his bar towel over his shoulder put his hands on his hips and say “Oh you! Promise we’ll be friends forever Jim. ” Forever? Forever ever? Forever is a long time Brian. It’s just a long time.

Cheap drinks
Cool bartenders
Funky theme
Free jukebox featuring Glen Danzig
Pretzel Dog
Pool table
Private bathroom

It gets really crowded
No Tom Petty is Un-American

CONLCUSION:  A good time will be had by all. It’s better early but what place isn’t? It’s a free jukebox which is exactly why you shouldn’t lock it up. Let somebody else get a spin. Think of me as you eat a pretzel dog and bath in the bathroom sink.


Friday, August 19, 2011

Whitehorse Tavern

The White Horse Tavern is a famous bar on the corner of Hudson and 11th Street. It was Dylan Thomas's regular pub and Jack Kerouac was thrown out of it so many times somebody wrote on the bathroom wall "Go home Jack!" It is also one of the first bars I went to after officially moving to the boroughs. It's awesome. 

That's not the place I'm talking about though. Bring your lady there. Bring your parents there. I'll be at the similar but not same named Whitehorse Tavern in the Financial District. I don't know who you could bring there. Somebody without much to live for I suppose. Did I mention this is my favorite bar in the city? 

How do I describe it? There is a second floor that I've never made it to. It's cheap. Very cheap. One of those Cowboy Special places. Pint can of PBR and a shot of rack liquor for $5. To really live the full experience pick Old Crow Whiskey as your shot with the special. You'll thank me never. It tastes awful. Fun fact. During the Civil War a Pennsylvania brigade thought Old Crow was the only good thing to ever come from the South. They even wrote to Lincoln about it. Guess they never tried pecan pie.

There is an old lady who walks around there. Presumably the owner. Her name is Helen. She’s Irish. It says on Yelp if you remember her name she’ll give you a free drink but I haven’t seen it happen.  I think the secret is saying hello in a threatening manner.  Old people scare easily. Maybe give her a little shake. Like a magic 8 ball. Jostle her and turn her upside down. Outlook good for a drink now.

The clientele is all male.  There may be a couple of suits because of where it’s located but mostly regular filthy dudes.  Not that I’m damning the place for it. This is actually right in my wheelhouse. I don’t want to get drunk in front of women. Then I might actually end up talking to one. Why would I want to do that? So we could go out to dinner? Laugh at the same things?  Share a dessert?  Fall in love?  Go on a couple’s cruise? No god damn you. I can’t. I get sea sick man. How am I going to spend a week on a boat?

The food was suitably depressing. I ate Sheppard’s Pie. There is nothing more appropriate to eat while drowning your sorrows than Sheppard’s Pie. It’s the saddest bastard on the menu. It comes with a side order of pity. I can’t stand pity. I’ve always been more of a French fry man. But I would take pity over onion rings.

Cheap Drinks
$5 special
Walking distance from N, R, 4, 5 and 1.
Never crowded
No onion rings
I wish I was there now

Men only (unofficially)
I'm not there

CONCLUSION: If Jack Kerouac was alive today I'd bet my life this is the Whitehorse he would prefer. I hope one day the bathroom wall will say "Get out Jim!"  Then one day somebody will ask "Who is Jim?" and the bartender will say "I think he was the guy who kept ordering the Sheppard's Pie. God he could be depressing." 


Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Miller's Place

I really wanted the first place I picked to be special. Instead I just went with Miller's Place. A dive bar of sorts that doesn't even exist anymore. It's the bar that I spent the most time in. I had friends that worked there. It's my home court. Or was my home court. You can't go home again. I'm about to get seriously wistful here.

Located near the Massapequa Park train station it was the rare Long Island bar you didn't have to drive to. It was a quick walk across the empty commuter parking lot past a couple of other local bars. The bar ran along the wall to the left and it started right by the door.  There was also darts in the front. Shouldn't bars have darts or a pool table? I'm not really going to play either. I'm useless on a pool table and the only thing I can effectively throw while drunk is a hissy fit. An epic drunk hissy fit.

Miller's stools were bar height full backed chairs which I like. I want to be comfortable at a bar. I'm going to be there awhile. The menu was pretty typical but the cooks did a good job. Easily the best mozzarella sticks I've ever had.  They had Reuben potato skins which were pretty interesting. I think it was pastrami, sauerkraut and Russian dressing under mozzarella on a potato skin. They had a skirt steak too. I don't know. Pretty basic but it tasted good. In Park Slope everything's got to be an ethnic delicacy. Or a cheeseburger place. What's with all the god damn cheeseburger places around here? Let me count them off for you. Cheeburger. Five Guys. Corner Burger. Flipsters. And coming soon Bare Burger. Do we really need 5 burger places in Park Slope? Who eats all these burgers? Show yourself! I know I just slammed ethnic delicacies and fancy food but who lives in Park Slope to end up at a fucking CHEEBURGER?!?

My Park Slope induced anger has knocked the wistfulness out of me. So let's get back on track. Miller's had some cheap booze. Real cheap. Almost free cheap. There was a beer pong table which I rarely won at and a jukebox that I frequently dominated.

If you've been out drinking with me you've seen me dominate a jukebox. Most likely you've also seen me play a song that makes the whole place groan. The time I did it at Miller's I played a Cat Stevens song. Somebody screamed out "This sounds like some shit my mother would play!" and then the owner came over and unplugged the machine.

One last thing. The girls that worked there were hot. Most girls working at bars are hot. But the girls here were spectacularly hot. There was a girl named Elyse who I would chop down the last rain forest and kill the last unicorn to drink the bath water of. She told me she liked my glasses once and my erection grew so fast I wasn't sure which would burst first the fly of my jeans or my cock. It was 3 whole minutes before I realized that I hadn't said anything back but was red faced and tightly grasping the edge of the bar. I'm pretty sure I fainted right off my chair into a pool of water. Like when Mickey gets knocked out in Snatch.  

Free drinks
Train access
Darts/beer pong
Cool owner
Reuben skins
Victoria's Secret Angels who worked there
Free drinks

Anti - Cat Stevens establishment
Bathroom (Pete always took a shit here. Like his personal shitting room)
Reuben skins. (Live fast. Die young. Less cool when applied to food.)

CONCLUSION: Oh Miller's. Like the deserts miss the rain. It really set the bar. (bad pun or the worst pun?) It was my Cheer's. Only with more fighting. And I want to have sex with Carla.  It's gone but it'll be the bar I compare all other bars to for a long time.


Sunday, August 14, 2011


I used to have a blog. It was fun. Mostly me complaining about girls. Making lots of poopy jokes. It turned into a muddled mess though. There was no direction.

What it needed was a word or acronym that I had only previously heard of in pornography. POV. I worked on a TV show that really stressed people to determine their POV and then when I told somebody I was thinking of starting a blog again they asked about it as well.

I have ideas. Things I want to write about and talk about with people. Then I came up with this totally bitchin name for a blog and had to build my POV around it. I've always been a fan of shows like Three Sheets, No Reservations and Insomniac. Travel shows where the host can have a drink. Ultimately I want to be Ford Prefect. That's right ladies I like English science fiction. Come over and we'll have a Doctor Who marathon.

So I'm going to profile bars I've been to. Things that happen at those bars. And sometimes as a special treat I will still be drunk while doing so. Those will be the ones that mix in Johnny Cash lyrics and end with me crying.

Oh and uh...welcome to the human race.