123 Burger Shot Beer

The first thing you notice is the girls who work there. They are dressed like cheap Hooters waitresses. Even if they were hot though I wouldn’t care. I’m the least horny drunk person ever. And I don’t trust bartenders/women who flirt with me. Combined with my subpar looks those are strikes one, two and three for romance. Oh and that’s a bowling reference, not baseball. Hooks in the house. Gobble, gobble, gobble!

1.)    Dollar burgers. Cheese and fried onions on a soft seedless bun. Tiny. Only a mouthful. Smaller than a slider. They are adorable. I could eat one of these burgers every day, forever. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. A burger a day and you’ll be dead soon. How selfish do you want to be though? Doctors got to stay in business too. They’ve got mouths to feed, Jags to lease and treadmills to buy.

2.)    Utah! Give me 2…dollars for a shot. Kind of a girly shot. And it looks watered down too. Full confession. I prefer whiskey but I chugged a bottle of green apple Mad Dog in college once. So I will drink anything if I think it’ll get me drunk. I don’t think these shots will though. Probably because I’m 29 years old. I’m full grown. 

3.)    Beer here! Stars and suds. Caviar wishes and brewski dreams. $3 for a non-happy hour beer is good in NYC.  If it’s not happy hour why are you there? For the burgers. You should have invited me I work right there geez.

I don’t hate this place. I don’t hate a lot of places. 123 is cheap and cheap food is a great excuse to grab drinks though. Here's my thought process. Go home and it’s a $10 minimum for delivery. Plus tax and tip. That’s $14. So if you come here you can spend $3 on burgers. Then get 4 beers and only spend another dollar. Tip? Sure I’ll tip. Better get another though. Hell, 5 beers after work on a Wednesday. This is America right? 

70/100

Polar Bears

This is a post I've used as a writing sample a few times recently. People seem to not hate it but I don't think I can sell it so I'll throw it up on here. Thanks for reading.

Polar Bear

The Coca Cola bear isn't wearing sunglasses. His white fur is soaked with the blood of your precious children. Their innocence intact until their intestines are dislodged. Loosed onto the ground like an overfilled shopping bag, tearing open from the bottom. Its contents coloring the crushed snow. 

Well, good news. We are now free to destroy these animals. Smile you son of a bitch.

The polar bear is the spirit animal for the energy conservation movement. A noble cause that looks foolish to discredit. However, their selection of this monster was a poor choice. A recent NPR story has brought to our attention that these animals are in no danger of dying off. In fact because of a hunting ban 40 years ago they have experienced a baby boom. Also as seen on the Colbert Report all bears are godless killing machines.

On a personal note I've always wanted a bear skin rug. I’d invite somebody, maybe a coworker, over to show it off after a few too many glasses of wine. We take our shoes and socks off and grab at the fur with our toes. "It's so real!" she says as a pull her close and look deep into her blue eyes. Meeting her apprehensive shocked gaze with a fierce look of determination. We exchange no words as my grip grows tighter on the small of her back. We twist to the down to the floor.  Settling on the bear rug. Looking past her face. Above. Into the glassy eyes of the once mighty fallen beast. Imagining myself riding it up a mountain. Grabbing the fur as I thrust. Like a wave traveling hundreds of miles. Up and down.  Until it crashes into the rocks. Broken. Spent. Dead. As dead as the formerly powerful  creature beneath us.  “God damn” I say. Still panting. “This rug really ties the room together.” 

Nostrand Pub

Bars like White Elephants

There is a backyard garden. Tables and chairs. Hot air heavy with pollen. It's the worst allergy season New York has ever seen. You get your own drinks from inside. No food. There are bags of chips you can buy at the bar. Inside, it's dark wood and friendly faces. New to the neighborhood, it's drawing a crowd. Neighbors meeting for the first time. Classy tap beers offered for $2 off during happy hour. Accompanied by an extensive whiskey list.

The bell chimes as the door opens.
'Hey, what can I get you?'
'Hi. Um. Has a girl been here? She's uh. A woman. I mean. She has hair. Usually wears jeans. Glasses but she might not have been wearing them. Ugh. Damn it.'
'...'
'She has a big forehead' he said apologetically.
'Really. A fivehead. Like that dinosaur with 3 horns'
'A triceratops?'
'Bingo. Yes. A triceratops. Only pretty. And with smaller excrement piles. Hopefully.
'Actually yeah. She's in the back.'
'Really?'
'No.'
'...'
'...girlfriend?'
'No.'
'Just somebody you're meeting at the bar?'
'Nope. Quite the opposite actually. Do you have Sailor Jerry's?'

80/100

The 13th Step

The 13th Step is what it's called when two people from AA have sex. Two lonely fucked up people connecting. Fine by me. I'm a broken robot who wants to feel love. If it wasn't for the stop drinking part I might even go to some meetings for that.

Or the 13th Step is when an AA old timer has sex with a newcomer. Which has a "don't fuck the interns" less cool vibe to it. AA is an emotionally vulnerable place but unless you are over-brimming with confidence being the fresh meat always comes with an insecure feeling. This is why I stay away from new people at jobs. I'm a recovering creep. I take the battery out of my phone after 5 drinks and have to ask a family member for my Facebook password whenever I want to log in. Damn it. Jean, I just want to change my cover photo!

So they named a bar The 13th Step. Naming a drinking establishment after an AA expression. Clever. Inside jokey. Insensitive. Let's go inside.

It's been awhile so I'm a little fuzzy on the details. I remember the waitress was hot. She had glasses. Glasses are beautiful. That just totally does it for me. I write for a Velma Dinkley slash fiction blog. It's called Oh Jinkies! Check it out sometime. I know. Confessions of a Creepy Mind.

They offer cheap drinks. Weekdays 11-8 the entire bar is half priced. That's the kind of deal that will get you in trouble. You know what I mean. You walk out and are blinded by the sun. "Oh! Oh!" Grabbing at your skin like it's burning. You've been watching Trueblood and you're hammered. It's only 3 in the afternoon. Get on the subway, throw Swedish fish at people. Get off after three stops, puke in a garbage can,, get back on before the doors close. 3:15. Car empties out like somebody just took a dump. "What's wrong with you people?!?! Never seen a person throw up before I guess." You get to your stop. Can't make it home. Piss on the steps of your own subway station. Right in front of two old ladies. "Eyes on your own paper grans. What, never seen one that big before?" It's just now 4 in the afternoon.

Hey, it happens. Things get carried away sometimes.

They also have Colossal Nachos. Served on a big platter and stacked 3 feet high. It's enough to split with 5 or 6 other people and, if you don't mind your food served on an upside down garbage can lid, at $30 it's a good value.

70/100

The Frying Pan

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Continental

5 shots for $10. 5 shots for $10. 5 shots for $10. 

Wooooo. That's what is important here. Don't come for food. They don't have any. Don't come for good service. They don't have any of that either. Don't come for a well decorated room. You're not going to feel at home and you're not in for a magical evening. There are thousands of other bars for that stuff.  Come here to get drunk. 

I always thought of Continental as a classic New York bar. It's on Third and St. Marks. It's grimy. Cheap as hell. It just always felt, to me, like a throwback to what New York used to be. The New York that scared the fucking shit out of me when my dad used to drag us in to the city as kids.  That's the romanticized New York you hear so many old timers talk about. I thought Continental was a peek into that. Like a drunker less scene CBGBs. 

However, I don't know for a fact if Continental has anything to do with a previous era of NYC. It could have opened in 2004 and been made to look shitty. For saps who come in and tell their friends "Oh man I heard Joey Ramone shot heroin into David Byrne's dick here."

Why do I even have any interest in that New York? I'm not cool. I don't own any leather. I definitely don't want to rape anybody. And I don't do drugs. Unless my friends are making me. I'm not a chicken or a turkey okay? 

To be honest my window into the glory of a more grimy city...is the Ninja Turtles movie! Oh man. The sewers. Old taxis. Pizza. The smoke rising from the streets. What is that? Street fog? It's like fucking Scorsese directed it. De Niro era New York ended with the Ninja Turtle movie. I guess because it peaked so hard. I love it and that's how I get into it. Truly. 

So I researched Continental to find the year it opened. Sadly I saw a lot of really negative comments, reviews and a consistent history of alleged racism at the door. Aziz Ansari has a bit about South Carolina being racist but still liking it because it has good food. Well I don't like biscuits.  I think they're terrible. I do like getting drunk though. Love it. 

They won't give you water for free. Smart because they are mostly dealing with dirt bags like me. You can usually get a beer for a couple of dollars though. 

There is an okay jukebox. The website says it's the best jukebox in the world. Lunacy. Average at best. It's better than no jukebox at all though. The website also says Iggy Pop drank here. Maybe he should be in the jukebox then? I'm not sure if he was. 

60/100

Porters On the Lane

Bellport. 


As you leave the boroughs and keep going east population density drops. Which is nice at first. Population density goes down as comfort goes up. You order drinks without waiting. And they are cheaper. You take a piss and the toilet isn't kicked to a million pieces and covered in shit. 

Less people = less assholes.  But no people = post apocalyptic waste land.

You keep going east and that comfort line goes up. But then it stops suddenly. Its makes a tear filled apology and swan dives from its great height. Oh comfort line. Why?
Because we are in the sticks now. 


We don't scare easy though. Built Ford tough. American made. A drunk, grinning tornado of a pirate. If you want to find us, follow the trail. We drag our big dicks on the ground like a dinosaur tail. We invented pussy flavored chewing tobacco. And if we met Jason Vorhees we wouldn't run for the door or up the stairs. We'd stick that mask up his ass and whatever didn't fit is going in his dickhole. 


So we're not babies. We still get scared out east though. Nighttime. Nobody is here. Bat country. Does a tumbleweed still tumble if there is nobody around to see it? No zombies. They've moved on in search of brains. Go west, young Zombie. Go west. 


Why was I there? Why do men do anything? Women. We sails oceans for women. Fight wars. Go to the moon. Go to Bellport. 


The bar is an old house. I used to live in an old house. So I know a thing or two about getting drunk in them. Lesson 1. Pee outside. That's exactly what you do. Parking lot. Like you're at Giants stadium finishing up at the tailgate. 


Saturdays they have live music. It's one guy. Acoustic I guess. I think he played Tom Petty. I know he played Brown Eyed Girl. I tried hating on him and then he played a song I really liked. Unfortunately I can't remember because I was drunk. Hunter S. Thompson used to carry a tape recorder. So did Tucker Max though. 


I know it was a big house but I really just hung around the bar. They had pickle backs which was a nice surprise. Although negated by the beers costing $6. The bar tenders were too (caught this but leaving it. they were two and too) Italian looking guys. One tall and thin, the other shorter and stocky. They would be fantastic as the Mario Brothers for Halloween. Or just everyday. Its a me! Bellport Mario!


They are supposed to have good food. Assume fish stuff since we're not far from the water. Kitchen closes before 10 so I've never had the chance to eat. 


They have a dice game. You are permitted one roll a day. Dollar a roll. I think it was 5 dice and you have to roll the same number on all of them. If you succeed you take the pool. Fun little bar game. 


It was a good place. Comfortable. Dice game is a great idea. The music was good. 


70/100

Reunion Surf Bar

Hey broseph. I love weird places. Like a surf bar in the middle of Manhattan. Down a dark gnarly flight of stairs and the side door of an office building. I came here alone the first time and to be completely honest it was only because I was hoping it was a trap and somebody would be waiting to murder me. Lol dudes! But seriously it's how I end all of my bad days.


Guess what bro? I didn't get murdered. Sweet. It was a Tuesday and they had a taco deal. One decent size taco for $3. They had another deal too. $3 tequila shots. I went with a friend and we were hanging ten of these...in our mouths? Was that forced? I don't know. Point is you come here on a Tuesday and surf's up, you're fucking drunk. 


They have two TV's. One with typical local sports and the other with a looped video of surf scenics and dancing island girls. I don't know. I don't pay attention to that sort of thing. What am I 13? Hiding the swimsuit edition under my mattress? I'm a grown man. If I'm going to scope out babes on a TV like a crusty perv it's going to be hardcore porn. And I'm going to masturbate with my hand into a Tommy Bahama shirt. Gahhhhhh. Mahalo broseph. I really needed that. 


Music. It seems like there would be surf music right? For the life of me I can't remember. I was having such a good time drinking waves of tequila and busting some taco grindage that I didn't even notice the music. Also, I have surf music permanently playing in my brain. Like a Tarantino movie. 


They have one of those giant fish bowls of alcohol here and I'm stoked to come back and get it. $45 and it says it's for 6 people. But I'm not afraid to take it alone. I'm like one of those big wave surfers. I've never seen a drink I'm going to back down from. Tie me to a jet ski, tow me out there and let the big dog eat. Or drink. 


On the menu there is a sandwich with fries in it. Which immediately reminds me of Primanti Brothers in the least surfer dudetastic city in America. Pittsburgh. Hopefully they remove it from the menu soon because all that Pittburghy stuff really harshes my buzz while I'm here. 


Some of the seating is communal tables which are fine. Whatever. They are just a little awkward if you start arm wrestling. Which I did. Over The Top style. Just once but it was intense. Initially I got shocked and was like "Whoa Big Kahuna ease up." So I gave a lot of ground up off the get go but I hung in there. Waiting for the right time to come back. Straining against the final push to put me down. Then I dug deep. Finding the Rainbow Warrior within. And I beat that small girl with authority. Boom! She was so strong dudes. But I'll take on all challengers. Provided they are female. And not a professional athlete or something. And under I don't know. 135 pounds. And not angry. Cause you know how people can have that angry strength? So I'll take on all female, non athlete, under 135lb challengers who are in a calm state. 




80/100

Rudy's

I recently went three weeks without getting drunk. Longest stretch since before I turned 21. It was a dead period for this blog for sure but alcohol wasn't completely out of my life. I still slept next to a kegerator most nights. Had a random social drink here and there. And one night I found a bottle of champagne, cracked it open and shook sprayed it all over my bathroom like I just won the fucking World Series. You don't have to get wrecked to have fun.

Rudy's is located on 44th and 9th in Manhattan. It's a dive bar. Maybe the diviest dive bar. I'd say Whitehorse Tavern is shittier but Rudy's is cheaper. So much cheaper. $7 pitchers of whatever garbage that is the house beer and $2.50 pints.

Rudy's is most famously known for the Pig standing outside the bar. It's big and weird looking. I don't care for him. Some research shows that he's 6 feet tall and named Baron. If you high five him you are trying too hard to have fun. Just go inside and drink.

People who have seen Rudy's will talk about the Pig. But anybody who has been to Rudy's will take about the hot dogs. They are everywhere. Because they are free! Ah I know. There is also a Papaya Dog two blocks away. And a dollar slice pizza place next to that. Just no shortage of diarrhea fuel in Hell's Kitchen if we are together. Ladies call me.

The hots dogs come with ketchup or mustard. If it's busy they won't even ask you they'll just throw both on there. I didn't know this and had to give away my last one. Ketchup is for children. If you like ketchup on your hot dogs you should just wrap them in cotton candy when you eat them and shit in your diapers. I'm a man now. I've put childish things behind me. That's why I use mustard. It's brown and can give you that bitter beer face. If you cut him open Kurt Russell would bleed deli style mustard. You wouldn't live long enough to see it but that's what would come out.

I actually don't even like the taste of mustard. I just think that the more I eat it the more bad ass I become. It's like Bruce Wayne training with the League of Shadows to become Batman. You're not doing it to have a good time. If you did everything to have a good time nobody would ever stop drinking margaritas. Ever.


We're talking about manly stuff, drinking and hot dogs. How do we bring it all together? Here's an idea. Another recipe. Picklebacks are really popular right now. They are a shot. They taste a little funky. Get you drunk. And they're fun. You can do the same thing with hot dogs. I call it "a wiener back." Although I'm also entertaining the idea of "hot wiener" or "hot dick"

Shake or scrape some of the sweat off the dogs and put them in big squirt bottle. This will take a lot of work but Rudy's moves a ton of dogs. Keep it warm. Not hot but you don't want to let it get cold. What's grosser than cold hot dog juice am I right? You use a double shot glass. I don't want to cheat you on the alcohol here. Fill it half with the juice and half with tequila. Because they already use whiskey in picklebacks and I've already given a recipe for a vodka drink before.  Then float a little 151 on top and light it on fire. Showmanship.

One last thing on Rudy's. They have awesome booths. Beat up red leather with a red light hanging over head. It's like you are in a raunchy 70's strip club. People have been grinded right where you are sitting and it feels like it could happen to you at any moment. It won't. It's still fun though.

Somebody recently complained that I only go to shitty places. And that was before I came here. I like these places though. I don't want to pay a lot of money and I like free food and I like just hanging out. I don't want a meat market or a dancing time or any of that. I want to sit. And drink. And maybe completely dominate an awesome jukebox. Bet my friends in a game of pool. Even though I'm terrible at it. Maybe when I take a piss and I miss all over the place I don't feel obligated to clean it. That's nice too.

100/100

200 Fifth

This bar is technically in Park Slope. The northern end. But it’s Park Slope. I know. Can you believe this guy comes back after a month and tries passing this off? Here’s a secret to Park Slope and any other place though. You can escape without going anywhere. Alice went down the rabbit hole but she didn’t really go anywhere. Or how about this… in every desert there is an oasis. Actually I don’t know about that. That could be dangerous advice so don’t quote me on it. Everything I know about deserts I learned from the Matthew McConaughey movie Sahara. So I suspect in every desert there is a Confederate gunship buried in the sand. 


It's one of my favorite bars in the neighborhood. There is a bus stop right in front so it’s easy to get to. Some people fear the buses or are too snobbish to go near them. I ride them all the time. And the buses in Park Slope actually run the same routes that the old Brooklyn trolley cars used to. So if you’re normally too snobbish to get your annoying ass on a bus maybe this will give it enough cool cred for you. I don’t know. It might be hopeless.  


There are loads of TVs here. Everybody I’ve ever brought has mentioned that. It would be a great place to watch football on Sundays. My favorite thing about the TVs is when they are all turned on to the same thing. I watched the Rangers knock the Yankees out of the playoffs on a hundred TVs all lined up next to each other. It was like a 100 dreams coming true at once. 


 They have beer towers. Every time I drink from a beer tower I break down the price by ounces and see if it actually makes sense to order them. Then I get too drunk to remember the answer. Maybe that’s the point. They are fun though. You slap a spigot on something it’s going to be fun. Even the word is fun. Spigot.


 Food. It’s well known that I’m a real cheap ass when it comes to what I eat. I’ve had food poisoning double digit times and would eat braised dog meat over kobe beef if I could save a few bucks. It doesn’t mean I like that though. Believe me I appreciate good food. I love good food. This place has good food. It’s classic American bar food but not cheap and shitty. It’s a little fancier. Like the fries are truffle fries with crumbled bleu cheese. I’m never going to come here and not order food. 


On the weekends they have a brunch. More awesome food and then the brunch special. All you can drink champagne for $11 dollars. This is tough when you’re nursing a hangover. So you’ll have to go to bed sober the night before. 


 The two times I’ve done brunch things got crazy. The first time was the day of the Super Bowl. I ended up crushing beer towers after brunch was over. I got so drunk I blacked out and missed the first half. I came to just in time to see the Black Eyed Peas perform.


 The second time I went I walked out into the middle of a street fair that I didn’t know was going on. It was fantastic. There was a parade for the end of the world and I bought a pair of sunglasses for 5 bucks. If this is really it I want to look stylish. 


75/100

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.

70/100

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. 


PROS
Cheap happy hour
Board games
Lots of seasonal decorations


CONS
None really. Kind of blah.


70/100

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.

PROS
Cheap, good vodka
Fun atmosphere

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

80/100

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.

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.

PROS
Cheap beer
Bring your own sandwiches

CONS
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.

65/100

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.

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

CONS
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.

CONCLUSION
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.

40/100

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. 

PROS

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. 

CONS

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. 


90/100

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. 

PROS

Secret bar

$18 Tuesdays

CONS

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. 

85/100

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. 

PROS

One nice TV 

Great location. Train station. Lots of bars around it.

Cheap

Meet with your local Congressman. 

CONS

The carpet must smell terrible

Always seems to be fights here

Food

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. 

50/100

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.

PROS
Good food
Strong beer
Outside

CONS
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.

85/100