Jack Goes Forth

Punch Drunk # 66

2012-01-24T14:33:00.000-08:00

What makes a bar special and why do people gain such an affinity for certain establishments?

This week in Style Weekly I examine these questions and take a look at Buddys - the long-time Richmond watering hole on the corner of Robinson St. and Stuart Ave. that recently managed to keep its doors open after a massive outpouring of support from its regulars.

Click here or pick up a print edition of Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

My Night Out With Kim Jong-un (Punch Drunk # 65)

2012-01-03T14:05:00.000-08:00

Spent New Year's Eve out with my old roomie from boarding school - Kim Jong-un aka 'Kimmy Kegstands' aka the new supreme leader of North Korea. As expected - hilarity ensued.

Click here or pick up a print copy of Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 64

2011-12-20T15:05:00.000-08:00

This week in Style Weekly I made a Christmas gift to-do list. Basically, I decided which Richmonders were naughty and which ones were nice. I then chose gifts that I thought would best suit the people on my list. No surprise here but I wasn't very charitable when it came to most of them. Click here or grab a print copy of Style on a street corner near you

Punch Drunk # 63

2011-12-06T14:13:00.000-08:00

'On Men and Drinking' - My ode to imbibing like a real man in this week's issue of Style Weekly. Click here or pick up a print edition of Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Making Cocktails On CBS 6

2011-12-02T11:27:00.000-08:00

Making cocktails in a turtleneck? Classy.

Punch Drunk # 62

2011-11-23T10:05:00.001-08:00

This week in Style I profile Steve McKenna - drinking guru and party monster from the shows 'Three Sheets' on Spike TV and 'Drinking Made Easy'. We decided to hit the bars....big surprise. Click here or grab a copy of Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 61

2011-11-09T05:06:00.001-08:00

Bulletpointed some local issues I've been ruminating on lately, got after some people - Bill Bevins among others. Basically it's 700 words of me being an asshole. New 'Punch Drunk' out in Style Weekly today. Click here or grab a delicious print edition on the streets.

Punch Drunk # 60

2011-10-27T16:25:00.001-07:00

Another murder in Shockoe Bottom - the third in a year and a half - and predictably, the city goes apeshit. Divisions reform and Facebook is flooded with inflammatory comments. Richmond's premier downtown entertainment destination continues to erode and no one seems to know how to stop its decline.

My take on the situation in this week's Style Weekly - click here or pick up a print edition.

Top 40 Under 40

2011-10-19T13:49:00.000-07:00

This week, Style Weekly's annual Top 40 Under 40 issue was released, honoring some of the younger people who are becoming the new game-changers in Richmond. I was assigned to three of these do-gooders. Check out Jeremy Soles, our cover model and one of my subjects. He's a baaaddd man.

Here's the complete list.

Punch Drunk # 59

2011-10-12T11:28:00.001-07:00

This week in Punch Drunk I recount Edgar Allan Poe's final Richmond drinking binge - the one that ultimately led to his death in a Baltimore gutter. Click here to read or pick up a print edition of Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 58

2011-09-28T12:20:00.001-07:00

Minor league baseball in the River City - More than just a reason to get drunk and hurl invectives at people?

I attended the Richmond Flying Squirrels final game of the season to examine in this week's edition of Punch Drunk. Click here or grab a print edition of Style Weekly.

Punch Drunk # 57

2011-09-14T08:24:00.000-07:00

Me to my editor: 'I'm gonna take out a drag queen, get her drunk and then write about that.'

Editor: 'That's gold!'

Getting drunk with a 6'4'' southern 'lady' who can almost drink as much 'buh-bin' as me was an experience I won't soon forget. My night out with Richmond's own Magnolia Jackson Pickett Burnside -- Click here or grab a print copy of Style Weekly.

Punch Drunk # 56

2011-08-30T12:22:00.000-07:00

New column out in Style today.

Took a night out and tried a few of the zillion new bars in Richmond. I got tipsy. I pretended like I was Ernest Hemingway. I spat some drunken prose. It was fun.

Click here or pick up a copy of Style Weekly.

Punch Drunk # 55

2011-08-17T09:06:00.000-07:00

In this weeks edition of Punch Drunk I go after city hall, beer snobs and a certain Richmond advertising 'king'. Click here to read 'Prickgate, Fat Tire, and the Denver Blues, or pick up a copy of Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 54

2011-08-03T07:55:00.000-07:00

In this week's edition of Style Weekly I recap my visit to New Orleans for the Association of Alternative Newsweeklies conference. It was a boozy time, to say the least.

Click here or pick up a print edition of the paper on your nearest corner.

Punch Drunk # 53

2011-07-19T12:54:00.001-07:00

This week in Style Weekly I present to you my ode to the corporate bar. Fruity concoctions with names like 'Mango Blaster' and a salad bar to boot? What's not to love?

Click here or pick up a Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 52

2011-07-05T13:24:00.000-07:00

In this week's Style Weekly I introduce my Richmond Virginia summer to-do list. It's mostly just me attacking and making fun of people, which is sort of my thing.

Click here or pick up a Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 51

2011-06-21T13:11:00.000-07:00

You know that bar regular that you hate with a passion?

I know him all too well.

In this week's Style Weekly I did an ode to that fucking guy.

What a dick.

Click here or pick up a print edition on a street corner near you.

Style Weekly 2011 Bar Guide

2011-06-15T08:27:00.000-07:00

The annual Style Weekly bar guide came out this week. I've always held a certain affinity for this issue because it was this week 2 years ago that I began writing for Style Weekly. Oh and I'm a bartender, so there's that.

For this year's issue we decided to look at the bar scene through a historical lens since this year is the 150th anniversary of the Civil War. Richmond, Virginia was of course a very big player during those tumultuous times.

With that in mind, I did an essay style piece on a night spent out with local restaurateur Randy O'Dell (Mezzanine and Belly Timber). We did a 'historical bar crawl'. We got drunk. Searched for meaning. Got more drunk. It was interesting. Click here for that one.

I also worked with 5 of the best mixologists in town on a feature we called 'Stirring Up Spirits'. They all were tasked with making a cocktail that coincided with a major moment in Richmond history. They all crushed it. Click here to read that.

Click here for an overview of the entire guide. Some very interesting drunk history and a good look at the current hot spots here in the RVA. For you locals, yes that is Otto Bartch posing as a horny Abe Lincoln on the cover. Hilarious photo shoot.

Punch Drunk # 50

2011-06-01T09:49:00.001-07:00

This week in Style Weekly I attempted to help a charity fundraiser that some bartender friends of mine have started, Cocktails For A Cause. They have a bartender auction coming up so I pimped that while still managing to make fun of and offend multiple people.

Great cause and a good way to get drunk without feeling that bad about it. Click here or pick up a copy of Style.

Remembering Sean

2011-05-25T15:10:00.000-07:00

Did a remembrance this week in Style Weekly about a long-time Richmond bartender who recently passed away. His name was Sean Sweeney. Never got the chance to meet him, but he sounds like someone who would've been one of my best friends.

Click here or snatch up a Style Weekly on the streets.

Punch Drunk # 49

2011-05-18T11:06:00.000-07:00

Everyone wants to open the next great restaurant. They have a sure-fire plan that just can't lose!

This week I examine restaurant dreamers and the internet foodies who hate them. So mostly I take potshots at the pretentious fucks who call themselves 'foodies'.

Click here or find a print edition of Style Weekly on the streets.

Punch Drunk # 48

2011-05-04T08:32:00.000-07:00

Flavored spirits have always been deplorable, yet somehow I've tolerated the cheapening and dumbing down of America's palates without too much hatred....until now.

Three Olives Vodka, the same assholes who brought us bubble gum flavored vodka, have recently released Three Olives 'Dude' Vodka -- Mountain Dew flavored vodka. What the fuck man?!

I vent my frustrations in a new Punch Drunk out today in Style Weekly. Click here or find a print edition all over the city.

Best Bartender, 2011

2011-04-27T10:00:00.000-07:00

I'll say it quicker than anyone; I am not the best bartender in Richmond. Did the readers of Style Weekly vote me the best? Yes. (The readers of Richmond Mag did last year also, but who's counting?)

So because I write for Style, they let me do a piece to accompany my win this year entitled '5 Bartenders Better Than Me.' There are more than 5 bartenders who could smoke my ass, but I had to start the false modesty somewhere.

5 Bartenders Better Than Me

Best Bartender In RVA 2011

Punch Drunk # 47

2011-04-20T09:50:00.001-07:00

Part 2 of 'Speeding Into The Night', my look at Adderall abuse in the Richmond bar scene, out today in Style Weekly. Click here or find a print edition on your nearest street corner or at the entrance of your favorite bar.

Punch Drunk # 46

2011-04-12T14:01:00.000-07:00

This week in Style Weekly I begin a two-part piece on the usage -- and abuse -- of Adderall among the bar-hopping set. The so-called study drug is being mixed with large amounts of alcohol, and lemme tell ya, it's pretty damn fun. Click here or pick up a Style Weekly on the street. Part two runs next week.

Punch Drunk # 45

2011-03-29T09:48:00.000-07:00

Crime has ebbed slightly but Shockoe Bottom (downtown entertainment district in Richmond) remains in a state of decay. Will the once popular bar mecca be able to rebound? This week in Style Weekly we take a look at one man's idea to turn it all around. New Punch Drunk out today. Click here or find a print edition on a street corner near you.

CBS Appearance

2011-03-18T06:15:00.000-07:00

Making St Pats cocktails and being a polite young gentleman.

Punch Drunk # 44

2011-03-15T11:33:00.001-07:00

This week, in honor of St. Patricks Day (the hardest, most lurcrative day of the year for me), I interviewed my close friend, the GM of Richmond's Bowtie Cinema and the extremely Irish, Sean McIntosh. We met in a bar over many drinks, so the end result was slightly rediculous. Click here or find a print edition on the streets.

Punch Drunk # 43

2011-03-01T12:05:00.001-08:00

This past weekend I attended the annual Virginia Wine Expo. Wine and Jack get along. Wine snobs and Jack do not.

New Punch Drunk out in Style Weekly today. Click here or find a print edition on your local corner.

Punch Drunk # 42

2011-02-15T10:29:00.000-08:00

'Right now you can drink and carry a gun with no repercussions in Virginia.'

This week in Style Weekly I go after the gun nuts for the umpteeth time. Will one of them just step up and shoot me already? I also reviewed a new (horrible) whiskey. Click here or find a print edition on a street corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 41

2011-02-01T12:56:00.001-08:00

This week in Style Weekly I went after the Fan District Association and their President, Democratic politico Charlie Diradour. They've been going around and acting like playground bullies to restaurants and others, so I called them out. Click here or pick up a print copy on the streets.

Punch Drunk # 40

2011-01-18T15:47:00.001-08:00

New Punch Drunk out in Style Weekly today. This week we examine whether or not Richmond would be able to support the craft cocktail scene like an NYC or a Portland....And then I made fun of some people. A pretty normal week for me. Click here or find a print edition on a corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 39

2011-01-04T11:14:00.001-08:00

This week I recapped some of the good, the bad and mostly ugly of Richmond's 2010 drinking scene. If you like listening to me be an asshole, click here or find a print of edition of Style Weekly on a corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 38

2010-12-21T09:58:00.001-08:00

In this week's edition of Punch Drunk I offered a few New Year's resolutions for you frequent bar-goers and I recapped some of the shenanigans from the Bud Light Port Paradise cruise. Click here or find a print edition of Style Weekly on a corner near you.

Bucks For Barker

2010-12-14T11:50:00.000-08:00

Fellow Richmond bartender Stephen Barker is fighting the big C and needs our support during the holiday season. Click here and then come to BlackFinn next week for the fundraiser.

Punch Drunk # 37

2010-12-07T10:37:00.001-08:00

With holiday office parties starting to pop off, I decided that this week I would give my tips on how to dominate them like a classy drunken asshole. New Punch Drunk, 'Working The Office Party', out in today's Style Weekly. Click here or find a print edition on a corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 36

2010-11-23T13:11:00.000-08:00

This week's edition of Punch Drunk had me examining some recent lifestyle related health problems and also I discussed the Bud Light cruise, on which I will be boozing come this time next week. Pick up a print edition of Style Weekly or click here to read it online.

Girl At The House Party

2010-11-19T13:55:00.000-08:00

A coughing fit had rendered her with little in the way of a voice, so in lieu of asking, she simply grabbed my hand and I followed her through the party, eventually finding an unoccupied room in the basement. It was late afternoon and sun still illuminated the space.

Without hesitation she fell backwards on the couch and dragged me down on top of her. We drunkenly kissed and groped, her long legs awkwardly getting entangled in mine as we grasped and squirmed to steady ourselves among a sea of cushions and pillows. I spread her legs as our hips crushed together, simulating an un-rhythmic, messy type of sex. The best sex there is, sometimes.

I pinned her arms back and forced my mouth on hers, on her neck, her arms. She was much more intoxicated than I was but it mutual, and it was raw...and it was perfect in its own way. In the back of my mind I wondered if this was the single most beautiful girl I had ever touched. Tall, blond, with a hint of Eastern European that could have lended itself to runways across the world. I held myself up a few times, gasping for a breath or two, holding my forehead against hers for a bit of stability, all the while stealing a brief glance at her features, at her eyes. I think I blurted out something like, 'fuck, you're sexy' or some other graceless throwaway line. My brain was turned off at the moment.

I started to kiss her chest and made a half hearted attempt to take her pants off, already knowing her response.

A voice thick with drunkenness, with a cigarette and sickness tinged congestion told me, 'I won't have sex with you'

'I know. I don't want to have sex with you'. I lied, but I knew we wouldn't be having sex on that couch. She was 6 years younger than me and she was a virgin.

This lasted for a few minutes before eventually we heard footsteps and decided to get up. Her hair was cockeyed and as she stood fixing it in the mirror I crept up behind her and stole a few more kisses. I didn't want the moment to end. I still don't want the moment to end.

NYE Party With Style Weekly

2010-11-12T13:31:00.000-08:00

The poster pretty much says it all. For anyone that has seen 3 Sheets To The Wind perform, you know it's a great show. Also I'll be there rocking my white tux and serving as one of your cruise directors. Tickets will be available on Nov.15th at StyleWeekly.com.

Punch Drunk # 35

2010-11-09T10:41:00.001-08:00

In late October nine college students had to be hospitilized after consuming a caffeinated malt beverage called 'Four Loko'. The back lash against Four Loko that followed was predictable...and inaccurate. This week I gave my take on it all in Style Weekly. Click here or find a print edition on a street corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 34

2010-10-26T10:26:00.001-07:00

In this week's Punch Drunk I tell you what tequilas you should be enjoying over shitty Patron. Also I spoke briefly about the never-ending saga that is the privitization of the Virginia Alcohol Beverage Control, a saga that now appears to be ending. Click here or find a Style Weekly on a corner near you.

NBC 12 Piece On The Safety Of Downtown

2010-10-25T11:05:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was on NBC 12 with the lovely Laura Geller talking about how my bar and our surrounding downtown neighbors co-ordinate with Richmond police and attempt to keep everyone safe. On around the 1 min mark.

Punch Drunk # 33

2010-10-12T10:07:00.001-07:00

This week I did a final recap on my trip to Bar Convent Berlin, comparing Germany's bar scene with Richmond's. Also this issue includes Style Weekly's annual top 40 Richmonders under 40 list, to which I also contributed. Click here or find a print addition pretty much everywhere.

Bar Covent Berlin Recap

2010-10-06T07:01:00.000-07:00

Below is everything that I've written thus far for Mixology.eu regarding my time here in Berlin. It's safe to say that I became the new imbibing champion of Germany somewhere along the way:

One Night In Berlin Makes A Hard Man Humble

The Goya, A Breathtaking Venue

Punch Drunk # 32

2010-09-28T15:24:00.001-07:00

This week I had a mental break down, so I examined that in detail....Then some drunk concealed weapons permit holder shot himself in the leg in a bar, so I made fun of him. Click here or find a print edition of Style Weekly.

Free

2010-09-21T16:31:00.000-07:00

I awoke with her arm still draped across my back. We had left her balcony door open the entire evening and the crispness of Fall had filled the room. I shivered slightly as I rubbed my heavily hooded eyes. The clock read 9:00 AM.

With my head still swimming in noxious fumes, I gently removed her arm and tried to stand up. Somehow I'd tweaked my knee the night before. I couldn't tell you how if my life depended on it. Limping, I struggled to put on my jeans. In the bathroom, taking pains to not sound like a fire hose and awake her, I aimed for the side of the bowl.

Found the rest of my clothes and gingerly tip-toed out of the room. She mumbled something but I was already halfway down the stairs. The pizza from last night was still on the counter and I grabbed a cold slice on the way to the front door.

Glancing up and down the Fan sidewalk and seeing people jogging, men in suits, couples leaving their houses. The 70 degree weather was a reprieve and a pleasure compared to the dead heat of Summer. A horrible Summer that now, hopefully, had come to pass.

Having no idea where my car was and not particularly caring anyways, I started walking and shoving pizza in my mouth. The limp of shame so to speak. A cigarette is lit and still just walking in the Fan, looking at everything, noticing everything. A goofy grin the whole way.

I hadn't felt this content in a long time. A feeling that only a free man, a man devoid of any responsibilities can have.

Turns out my car was right in front of her place. I'm glad I didn't see it the first time though.

Bar Convent Berlin

2010-09-15T10:53:00.000-07:00

At the beginning of October I've been invited to Germany to take part in Bar Convent Berlin. Bar Convent is held once a year and is the self-proclaimed 'center of the German bartending industry'. Certainly judging by the guest list this thing is the real deal. With over 4000 visitors, a presentation by Dale DeGroff (the Godfather of bartenders everywhere), other luminaries of the mixology world and booths from alm0st every major liquor supplier in the world, this thing is monstrous.

One of the main sponsors and organizers of the event is a German Bartending magazine that I write for, Mixology. While most of the mag is dedicated to the more serious aspects of drink-mixing, I usually get assigned articles of a different nature. "Bartenders and Vice" for example.

My job as an 'embedded blogger' for the event will be to write a few posts a day for the magazine and give my sure to be unusual take on the proceedings.

Language barrier be dammed, I intend on throwing myself into the convent and soaking up everything that I can. Sort of a Hunter S. Thompson take on the event, sans the drugs. (I don't plan on 'sans-ing' the alcohol though.)

I think the most exciting part will be the nightly parties and bar crawls through the best bars that Berlin has to offer. Most of these guys, while serious about mixology, are also serious about having fun.

Please tweet me constantly from October 1st to the 6th and remind me to drink a shit ton of water. I simply won't have time to be hungover.

Also look for updates here. As always I will hold nothing back. If I end up cavorting with a tranny in some seedy German strip club, then you will hear about it.

Punch Drunk # 31

2010-09-14T12:34:00.000-07:00

The ongoing clusterfuck that is the privitization of Virginia's Alcohol Beverage Control is, well, an ongoing clusterfuck. I gave my take on it in this week's Punch Drunk. Click here or find a print edition of Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Punch Drunk # 30

2010-08-31T13:19:00.000-07:00

I enjoy making fun of people. Aside from drinking it's one of the only things I do well. So this week's Punch Drunk was me making fun of people. Enjoy.

Click here or find a delicious print edition of Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Jack Goes Forth Fantasy Bartending Camp

2010-08-23T12:18:00.000-07:00

*Jack Lauterback, area beefcake and one of your trainers at the Jack Goes Forth Fantasy Bartending Camp.

Want to be a real bartender? Fuck bartending school then. That shit is a joke.
Contrary to popular belief, bartending has nothing to do with mixing drinks, flairing, or any of that other BS. That's why I've created the 10 minute long "Jack Goes Forth Fantasy Bartending Camp." To teach you fools what it's like in the real bartending world.

Here's what it entails:

You come to my bar on a Sunday night and give me thirty dollars, and I'll let you take a spin through the custom-made 'Jack Goes Forth Bartending Obstacle Course'. Before any of this I'll make you sign a waiver that grants me zero responsibility for your safety. If you make it through the course with ease, then you a get a piece of receipt paper, signed by yours truly, that officially proclaims you an experienced bartender. This slip gives you the right to use me as a reference for any bartending gigs you apply for. It basically means I'll lie my ass off for you.
It sounds easy right?

WRONG!

No one has ever passed the obstacle course except for me and Dane Acton (and he's been a little off ever since.)

Obstacle Course Rules:

You have 10 minutes to complete the following tasks in any order that you want.

-Serve at least 15 shooters (of all different varieties) with only one tin. (washing the tin out during this process is optional and not recommended). Bachelorettes want their fruity shooters and they want them now.

- Kick someone out of the bar for any reason, or no reason at all. This one is easy as during your ten minutes, at least one hobo will wonder in and start panhandling at the tables in the dining room. You get extra points for using force. Infact you fail the obstacle course completely if you don't use brute force to remove someone from the premises.

- Added bonus for kicking out a friend or family member.

- To simulate a real Sunday I will be at the corner of the bar and will continually cut off the music (you better haul ass to the stereo and fix that shit quick), I will berate you for how shitty of a bartender you are, I will throw things, I will wonder into the kitchen (you better drop everything and grab me because 'that's not the fucking bathroom asshole!') , I will paw at your girlfriend's breast, I will start doing drugs on the bar, I will.... You get the point. Just keep your eye on me because I'm a troublemaker and I won't be the only troublemaker out getting blasted on a Sunday night, trust me.

- Yell, a lot. I don't care what you're yelling about or if you're just yelling to yourself. I don't want to see any semblance of calm on your face. This is war man!

- Shit, the keg went out. Sprint to the back and change out the keg. But oh shit, there aren't any kegs left. Sprint back to the bar and explain this to the customer. Then erase the beer on their tab and get them something else. Then listen to them bitch until you decide to just pull their drink off the bar and smash it all over the floor. Then kick them out. (This entire process should only take about 45 seconds)

- Someone will stiff you on a tip. I promise this will happen during your 10 minute session. I can't tell you how to handle this situation but I'll be watching so don't fuck up. My only advice when dealing with non-tippers: WWJD... What Would Jack Do? Let that guide you.

- Grab a knife for something (fruit? if we have any) and cut the living shit out of your finger. I want to see gushing. Use the blood to make tribal warrior marks all over your face. Then, in a brave act of heroism, wad up a ball of cocktail napkins and rubber band them tightly over the wound. There's no time for band aids or disinfectant or cleaning the blood off of people's glasses.....Didn't you fucking hear me??? This is war man!!!!

- Smoke a cigarette and talk shit with your friends for a few minutes.

- Wash your hands. Ha, I'm kidding.

- See at least one set of boobs. No raping either. This must be accomplished through your charm and wit with the ladies. Obviously you won't have a tenth of my success in this department, but you have to try.

- Text 4 or 5 friends and tell them to get their asses down to the bar. Do this while leaning on the bar and blatently ignoring customers.

- Do 20 push-ups. Why? Because I said so fat boy.

Accomplish all of these tasks in under 10 minutes while simultaneously keeping the bar spotless, checking every ID that walks through the door, keeping your customers drinks full, and keeping all tabs up to date and accounted for, and you will have made it through the obstacle course.

For an additional 500 dollars I will allow you to bartend the entire evening as I sit at the bar and get smash-mouthed. All tips you get will go to me, but you can keep the experience gained and the lessons learned.

Any jackass can make a drink... This however, is where the bartender boys become bartender men...

Punch Drunk # 29

2010-08-17T14:50:00.001-07:00

This week's Punch Drunk is by most accounts, me completely mailing some shit in. But unlike my blog, which I can erase at will, this Punch Drunk column is now in 60,000 print copies of Style Weekly. I wrote about Steven Slater, who unless you live under a rock, you have surely heard about.

On a bright note, I did cuss a lot in this column. There would have been many more expletives but my editors said no way Jose. Read it here or find a print edition of Style.

The Bartender Hates You

2010-08-16T14:05:00.000-07:00

A few of my bartender buddies pointed me towards these web shorts called 'The Bartender Hates You', which are basically customers doing all of the annoying things that they do and then the bartender being a complete dick to them in return.

Okay, I admit it, I've been known to have more than a few asshole episodes behind the bar. Every bartender does it from time to time.... That's why these videos are so funny and so viciously true.

I posted three below and there's over 40 of them on You Tube.

Punch Drunk # 28 (Bear Fight!!!!!)

2010-08-03T12:45:00.001-07:00

This week's Style Weekly column is devoted to the worst shot known to man, 'The Bear Fight'. Read about it here or find a print edition on a street corner near you.

-Editor not responsible for any death, injury, or blindness caused by some idiot consuming a bear fight after the reading of this column.

Self-Aggrandizement

2010-08-02T15:37:00.000-07:00

Richmond Magazine recently released its best and worst of Richmond issue and somehow my name appeared in it a few times. In addition to being named the best bartender in the city (which is a sick joke and has most of my bartending peers falling off their bar stools with laughter), I also finished second in the 'Best Local Up and Comer' category to one of my frequent bar patrons, local young stud Trevor Dickerson.

Yeah I'm real up and coming.... I'm hungover on a Monday and have somehow contracted pink eye for the second time in as many months. Yay me.

Also Richmond Mag's departing drinks columnist, the stylish Jason Tesauro, gave me a shout out in his final column. I'd rather have a case of wine from the vineyard he shills for. I'm waiting for my bottle of Barboursville Octagon Jason...Any year will do...

Okay enough patting myself on the back for today. I'm gonna lay in bed now and watch Family Guy. I might even masturbate..... Yep, I'm a real winner.

Stripper Tippers

2010-07-28T11:47:00.000-07:00

I could smell them as they mounted the stairs and entered the bar. Eau de stripper. A musk that only a stripper just off her shift, unshowered and covered in perfume, can emanate.

All three of them were curvaceous and under dressed in a manner that would make Dita Von Teese blush.

They ordered the usual fare: Jagermeister, Sex On The Beach, 'Something fruity and strong.'

The conversation ranged from how their last husband/boyfriend beat them to how much one of the girls was about to receive in her divorce settlement from a man 19 years her senior. Then they spoke about the drugs they were on, the drugs they have done, the drugs they will do... Girls of this ilk do hard drugs. A shit-ton of hard drugs....

The one male in the group was covered in tattoos and wore a bandanna. He could've just walked off the set of Son's Of Anarchy. He was putting the girls on his tab and one of them whispered to me that he was absolutely loaded. Something about an inheritance.

His talk was lewd even by my standards. He continued to introduce me to each girl with the line, 'this is my future bitch of an ex-wife.' He continually applied cologne. He told me that his charm was the key, and that my height and looks were nothing. I agreed as I laughed nervously.

The stench in the bar made me gag and I took a cigarette break in an effort to breathe easy...When a smoke is a way of breathing easy...Well, you get it.

The girls were sucking down the drinks and the man's tab continued to rise.

I feared the worst. I feared a declined card. Maybe a stolen card. Maybe even them just walking out and not paying a cent. Even with only one male amongst the group, this was not a crew that I would ever want to tangle with solo.

I called last call and handed the man his tab. Without blinking an eye he tipped me 40 percent on a tab that was well above 150$. He smiled, lit his cigar and told me that I was a good bartender. This area of the bar was non-smoking, but I smiled back and told him to smoke away.

I've learned time and time again to not judge a man's (or a woman's) character based on their appearance, but I do it sometimes. And in this case I was wrong, again.

When it looks like a stripper, smells like a stripper, and it talks about how their ex-husband used to beat the holy hell out of them.... They will be good tippers. It's a rule, not an exception.

They've been in much worse trenches than you have....Much much worse.

Also, if a man is trying to bang three strippers, thank the gods because he will tip you like a pasha.

Punch Drunk # 27

2010-07-20T11:58:00.000-07:00

New Punch Drunk in this week's issue of Style Weekly. I made fun of City Councilman Charles Samuel's rediculous new 'Dance Hall' ordinance and I recapped all of the guns-in-bars-insanity that I've endured over the past few weeks. Read it here or find a print edition on a street corner near you.

I'm Big With The Gays

2010-07-19T12:36:00.000-07:00

Wanted to give a quick shout out to fellow blogger, gay activist, and funny-ass motherfucker Kelly Stern (pictured above on the left, on the right is his soon to be husband Jeff). Much like myself Kelly enjoys his vodka and says whatever he wants, whenever he wants to say it. This past Friday these guys came by Havana 59' to see me at happy hour and to finally introduce themselves. That's good people right there.

Thanks guys. I haven't laughed that hard in awhile. Check out Kelly at his blog (Rambling Along). Be forewarned, he likes to get drunk and put up pictures of himself in his underwear, a lot. I'm told he has a monster gay following.

*Me being absolutely fabulous. I'm pretty sure I was gay in a past life. Or I'm unknowingly gay in this life.....That would really explain why my asshole is so sore after every time I wake up from a black out...And why I've been shitting out condoms lately.

NBC 12 Gun Debate Is Online

2010-07-14T20:01:00.000-07:00

You can also view this afternoon's gun debate on NBC 12 between myself and Mr. Philip Van Cleave, the president of the Virginia Citizen's Defense League, at this link: http://www.nbc12.com/Global/story.asp?S=12807722

Some final thoughts on today's debate:

-I want to thank Mr. Van Cleave for coming out. I disagree with him but he was nothing but cordial when I met him and when I shook his hand in the parking lot afterwards. I respect a man who will stand up (in public) for what he feels is right, regardless of his views.

- I would also like to thank Ryan Nobles for taking a big chance by putting this live debate on air. He admitted to us beforehand that this is something new for NBC12 and that he didn't know what to expect. He trusted me to not drop an F-bomb or get crazy, so I give him credit.

- There were also gun fanatics outside of the studio filming me, as they apparently have been doing lately without my knowledge. This includes secretly filming me behind the bar while I was working. Creepy, I know.

- While there clearly wasn't enough time for either Mr. Van Cleave or myself to really get our points across, it was an informing segment for the general populace. Van Cleave made all of the points that the gun nuts usually make and I laughed my way through the whole thing because of how ridiculous these people and this law are. My friends and most sane people will say I won, his gun nut buddies will say the opposite. There was not a winner though....

My point will only be proven when an innocent restaurant bystander dies either inadvertently or maliciously at the hands of a concealed weapons permit holder. It's sad, but that's just the way the cookie will crumble.

L.V.G. 'Shots To Kill'

2010-07-12T13:48:00.000-07:00

My friends got creative. Image courtesy of Brian Mount.

After Wednesday I'll probably never mention the word GUN again. This is just getting boring now. How someone can devote their every waking moment to discussing gun law is just baffling. I prefer having fun and getting laid. Anywho, I still plan on mopping the floor with this dude on live TV.... Tune in bitches!

Also if this whole situation gets turned into a made for TV movie, I will only allow Robert Pattinson to play me.

Punch Drunk # 26

2010-07-06T11:07:00.000-07:00

This week in Style Weekly I went after another hallowed Virginia institution, The Alcohol Beverage Control. As with most of the things I write, I pulled no punches. Go read it here or pick up a print edition of Style.

Guns and Alcohol

2010-07-01T20:56:00.000-07:00

PREVIOUS POST REDACTED

Instead of letting these morons crush me in their 'open carry forums' and on pigfuckers.com, I've decided to redact this post, but I am not backing down. Let me explain.

Other than an anonymous death threat I received, no one has contacted me directly. They have contacted the bars where I work and the paper that I write for, and they were met with laughter. Guess what fuckers, I'm not losing my job over some gun-totin' crybabies.

So in lieu of you geniuses going behind my back I've decided to extend an invitation to debate this new law on any of the local networks, radios, street corners, anywhere. This is a hot button issue and I've managed to make Charlton Heston turn over in his grave, so I don't think it'll be a major hassle to set this up. A couple of local newscasters have already contacted me about all of this bullshit.

My first invitation goes to 'Sah Runicible Cannon' (Use your best Foghorn Leghorn voice when saying his name), the owner of the website Richmondguns.com. This man told me via Twitter that he has no interest in bringing his gun to late night bars, and that he only wishes to carry a concealed pistol to Chipotle for lunch. I shit you not, he said this. I say I say, bring it on sah. (Via Twitter: @RichmondGuns I'm sure someone will step forward but it won't be me. I value my privacy and I don't see any point in 'debating' you.) You don't see any point? What has this all been for? This whole argument? You don't see any point? Are you blind?

My second invitation goes out to 'Lawyer Mike' , the man behind the website 'opencarry.org', who has been gracious enough to avoid contacting me, instead he has called Style Weekly and Cha Chas Cantina, two of my employers.

Not his exact words but from what I hear this is pretty close to what he said: 'I want that boy firrraird. I done contacted the pooolice. He threatened my laaaffe.' (Again use your best Foghorn Leghorn when repeating those words.)

So 'Lawyer Mike', you want to not be a coward and maybe try coming directly to me? You are a lawyer right? You served 20 years in the Army right? You could probably make short work of me right?

Anyone else who wants to accept the challenge is welcome to contact me also.

Everyone is also welcome to bring their concealed weapon to the debate just in case we get invaded by Mexico or something. You just never know... I mean I nearly piss my pants every time I walk into a Chipotle.

Dirt McGirt Pt. II

2010-06-28T14:56:00.000-07:00

Waking up at noon to the crust of a 100 key bumps is insufferable. The text alert is already blaring with requests to go out drinking or to meet here or to go fuck her or to go score this. Meanwhile this shitting heat has me sweating before I'm even outside and I begin to masturbate only to think, 'fuck, I'm not even in the mood to finish this process', although I do anyways.

Two thousand dollars in twenties and uncashed checks lay under the mattress and there are bills to pay and banks to hit and creditors to call and I'm so turned off by it all that I try to go back to sleep, only now the sheets are damp and the thought of falling back to sleep in a cold sweat and with a belly covered in semen sounds even less appealing than paying my bills.

The shower jolts some life into me and I don't even bother to use shaving cream as I drag a dull razor across my jaw. Maybe I use some soap and shave around the base of my groin if I feel the day will warrant it (it won't). Bloodshot eyes become clear again and I take on the appearance of everyone else for a while.

I go to a coffee shop. The caffeine pushes me to write and send emails and pretend like I actually do something for a living other than bartend. I take a huge shit at some point. I make small talk with the baristas, most of whom know me well by now.

Outside smoking a cigarette on Broad St. and a familiar face walks past. The same face that belonged to a drunk girl who pissed all over herself and one of my bar stools a few weeks ago. She recognizes me and I wave and I cackle like a monkey. The first laugh of the day and I feel better already.

The day ends at a bar. The day always ends at a bar. I see 'bar' friends. We drink and laugh about the same shit. Maybe we decide to do a line. Maybe I decide to go home early and rest.

Nothing changes until I decide to make it change, which is a decision I make every time I'm coming down.

Nothing changes though.

Punch Drunk # 25

2010-06-22T08:54:00.000-07:00

This week's Punch Drunk was Part 2 of my 'Bright Lights, Medium-Sized City' piece. My description of life after 2 AM in a bar. Check it out here or find a print edition of Style Weekly and make some attempt to keep up with our city, unless you live elsewhere. Then just read my bullshit.

Dirt McGirt

2010-06-21T12:53:00.000-07:00

Pop 20 milligrams of Adderall, take a shot of Hornitos Plata, snort a small line of blow, take a shot of Correlejo tequila, smoke a cigarette because you're fucking wired by this point and need to relax, take another small line of blow but leave a few other small lines on the plate for later, take a shot of rail tequila, smoke cigarette and all of sudden 'later' has come and you're hovering over the plate again with a rolled up dollar bill in hand and holy shit I'm flying high as a kite. Light up another cigarette. Lose weight fast! The easy and fun way!

Sitting at the coffee shop, shaking like a leaf after 5 hours of sweaty 'sleep'. The caffeine hits and I'm in the bathroom shitting out food I never even ate. A wintry mix of fluids seeps out of pores, looking like dehydrated spit on my face. People stare as I walk back to my seat, staring at the dark circles, the perspiration. Grimacing at a smell that can only be described as taking a dump on a corpse in a sauna then coming back 4 days later. What the shit are you looking at bitch? Yeah it's Monday. Go watch The Real Housewives Of New Jersey and pretend like you actually enjoy being an administrative assistant.

Fun news! Fun news! Ex-fling g-chats me, she's engaged! Finally, my first laugh of the day! What an idealistic 22 year old retard. I'm never dating one of these flower-child dissenters again. Unless it's somehow related to an intricate plot in which other hippie bandwagon jumpers would perish in great numbers...Then I might. Plus she sold me a gram of baking soda once, so I'm still a little bitter I suppose. I mean she was hot, but you could imagine my disappointment in that situation. Well, some of you could imagine.

Don't make me go to a bar tonight God. Don't do it. Don't fucking do it. Will a glass of red help? Sure it will. I'm weak God. I'm so weak that I'm talking to someone I don't even care for...Or believe in.

Someone just told me that I've really cleaned up my writing and grown up...Ha, nope, not today.

Compelling Television Drama

2010-06-20T10:13:00.000-07:00

*They let this asshole go on TV from time to time.

Check me out on NBC 12's Restaurant Report from this past Thursday. I'm the sexy beast about 1 min and 30 seconds into the video. They cut most of the good stuff I think, although I was sort of drunk so I doubt any of it was that good to begin with.

http://www.nbc12.com/Global/story.asp?S=12664638

Style's Annual Bar Guide Is Out

2010-06-16T12:08:00.001-07:00

This week Style Weekly's Annual Bar Guide came out. The main spread was a bartender round table piece that I did, which basically consisted of me getting some bartenders together, buying them drinks, and then recording the ensuing conversation. Not surprisingly it turned out to be pretty funny. Check it out here.

I also contributed on a piece that we titled 'The Bar Builder', in which we took our favorite attribute from our favorite bars around town (best liquor selection, best bartenders, best ambiance, etc) and we then built our perfect bar. Check it out here.

Also be sure to pick up the print edition so you can ogle the cover model (pictured above), my fellow bar temptress from Cha Cha's, Heather Dixon.

Lastly, check out a very hungover Jack Goes Forth on NBC 12, Thursday at 11PM for their weekly 'Restaurant Report'. I'll put it online on Friday... Very hungover is a huge understatement.

Punch Drunk # 24

2010-06-08T09:20:00.000-07:00

This week's Punch Drunk was a special one. I started a two part story describing the end of the night in a bar and we introduced Richmond to the "Pickleback" shot. Sure we're two years too late on the Pickleback, but it is Richmond we're talking about. Read it here or find a print edition of Style Weekly on a street corner near you.

Funny Bar Exchanges From The Weekend

2010-05-31T15:09:00.000-07:00

Me: "I don't see your tab anywhere. May I see your ID for a second?"

Her: "Hold on, my husband has a tab, let me grab him." (She walks off, then returns 5 minutes later with some guy)

Me: "Okay what's your tab under sir?"

Him: "What tab?"

Me: "She said her husband had a tab, that's you. Would you like to pay cash perhaps?"

Him: "Husband? That's not my wife." (He smirked when he said this.)

Me: "Someone has to pay for these drinks right now. 19 dollars." (I hold out my hand)

Him: "I'm not paying for her drinks, shes got her own money, but I do want a Long Island Iced Tea with no tequila, and two Budweisers." (The exact order the woman who wasn't his 'wife' had just placed.)

Me: "Listen, I wouldn't admit to her being my wife either, but you can pay for her drinks, or you can go get your drinks from another bar. Your choice." (I tried suppressing my huge shit-eating grin as I said this.)

(He walked off and one of his friends apologized and paid for the drinks, drinks which I had already pulled from the bar and threw away.)

***

(Some 'street hustler' walks into the bar. It's early and it's only the chef, a server and myself in the front of the house.)

Street Idiot: "Yo man, how much are tacos?"

Me: "8.99 for a platter of three with a side, or two dollars for a single ground beef taco."

Street Idiot: "What the fuck is that? Two fucking dollars? You can't give me one for free?"

Me: "Wait, why did you ask for prices if you want one for free?"

Street Idiot: "Man I'm trying to survive, I gotta hustle, I gotta eat. I can go to Taco Bell and get cheaper tacos than that."

Me: "Great idea. It's two miles from here. Start walking"

Street Idiot: "Fuck that...This is about society, this about people giving a man some tacos. I have an industry here, I have ethical responsibility to living in this world....blah blah blah..."

Me: "Have you thought about a career in motivational speaking?"

Street Idiot: "Fuck that man, This bullshit."

Me: (I'm on a roll now) "Sir this is a business, not a charity, perhaps if UNICEF decides to enter the taco business one day, well maybe things will be different for you, but you know, until then, we're the people to see."

(I thought about making myself a quick taco and following him outside, then smashing the taco all over the sidewalk... I'm not that cruel though...Well, maybe if I was drunk.)

(Also thank you for the emails you dicks. Of course I was quoting Joe Dirt. That went without saying. And btw, I saw your bumper sticker you cowboy butt lover.)

The Best Bartender?

2010-05-28T23:40:00.000-07:00

A new column was launched this week in the New York Times entitled "The Tipsy Diaries", written by the incomparable Frank Bruni (the former chief restaurant critic for the NY Times, which is a ridiculously powerful position). In his inaugural column Bruni profiles who he and many others consider to be the best bartender in New York City, a Mr. Doug Quinn (pictured above).

Mr. Bruni nails this one on the head. He talks about what a real bartender does and what it takes to gain legendary status as a bartender in the greatest drinking city in the world (Here's a hint: Mixology and the ability to make new and absurd cocktails have nothing to do with it.)

You want to hear about a great bartender? Maybe the best? Read Bruni's profile on Doug Quinn, head bartender at PJ Clarke's. (At PJ Clarke's, the Bartender of Your Dreams.)

Punch Drunk # 23

2010-05-25T21:24:00.000-07:00

New Punch Drunk out in Style Weekly today. This week I made fun of beer geeks and gave an update on the 'warzone' in downtown Richmond. Read it here or find a print edition on the streets.

Richmond Celeb Encounter

2010-05-25T01:40:00.001-07:00

A tall guy sauntered into the bar the other night and asked for a boilermaker. A boilermaker is a hard-ass drink, the type of drink that I'll take when I'm pissed about something and ready to yell non-sensical bullshit at strangers. The recipe for a boilermaker calls for a beer and a shot of whiskey, either mixed or drank simultaneously. A boilermaker is something we all drink, unknowingly most of the time.

So this tall guy looked very familiar. Then it hit me, this guy is that crazy-eyed dude on the channel 6 print ads. He's the Pulitzer Prize-nominated, former brick-layer, man of the streets, RTD columnist, Richmond investigative reporter extraordinaire Mark Holmberg.

Nothing that note-worthy happened and really this whole blog post is mostly filler, bear with me though.

I respect media-types so I gave him his beer for free and he didn't tip*. He seemed pretty sauced so I didn't give a shit about the non-tip. Hilariously though, some guy that Mr. Holmberg was hanging out with drunkenly told me that he was going to start a blog about "going forth". I was nice and shook the guys hand, then the guy proceeded to make fun of me and my blog. Nothing I haven't heard before. It's a compliment to me when some random middle aged guy knows about my blog, or it's an insult to him... Either way.

So I had seen this Mark Holmberg guy in ads for Channel 6 but I honestly had no idea who he was or what he really did. I only recognized him because he's much taller than me (I'm 6'4) and he has a very distinctive look. Sort of hippie meets professional volleyball player meets I wouldn't start trouble with him because he's an imposing motherfucker look. One of those instantly recognizable people.

I only mention this because I went back and researched Mark Holmberg. He's a bad man, and I mean that in a sincere, respectful type of way. He's the guy who profiles junkies and hookers and the guy who does and says the shit that most journalism-tie-wearing pretty boys refuse to do. The guy went from laying bricks to getting nominated for a Pulitzer... That's something.

His tipping oversight was probably just that, an oversight. He seems like a salt of the earth type guy. A guy you would want to get shit-canned with. The type of guy who will come into the bar and knock my teeth out when he reads this blog post.

*Mark, that tipping cheapshot will be erased upon your next visit to one of my bars, providing that you tip on the next visit.

Irrevelant Thoughts From The Bartender

2010-05-20T15:52:00.000-07:00

- There's something to be said about the extra time and effort that it takes a bartender to make a quality drink. I much rather make a caipirinha, which can be a somewhat intensive process, say compared to a Jager Bomb. A drink that a fucking blind monkey without arms could make in 5 seconds. Sure these two drinks cost roughly the same, but at least I feel like I'm actually a bartender when I'm preparing the capirinha. Prepping a Jager Bomb is like fueling up an airplane. An imbecilic airplane that will crash, tear the soap dispenser off the wall in the bathroom, start fights, and piss me off. I hate airplanes like that. The classier and more complicated the drink, the less of an idiot the imbiber is...Not always though.

- Last night before the late night rush we were really slow. Slow times behind a bar are loathsome because they give you to much time to think. You start to fear the impending rush of drunks. You start thinking about your so-called "life". You start to wonder if maybe you should've taken that desk job. You wonder how many abortions you have to pay for until you will start to feel remorse... Okay, maybe these are just the things that I think about.

- I wonder if I'll ever have to use my church key to brain an unruly customer, or as a means of defense in a 5 on 1, customer on bartender brawl. For those non-bartenders, a church key is the hand held metallic object that we use to pop the tops on beer bottles. It's solid metal and sharp as an eagle's talon. I think I'll use it to crack someones skull one day. Hopefully it'll be in self-defense so I won't go to jail.

- An aging hippie tried to light a joint in the bar the other night. Long story short, he was desperately clinging to a railing near the front door of the bar as we muscled him out. For a split second I thought about biting his hand to make him let go, then I thought, wait, this fucking hippie is dirty as hell. So I punched his hand really hard instead and after emitting a "yelp!", he let go. I've never punched the back of someone's hand before. Lemme tell you... It felt pretty good.

Funny Bar Exchanges From Last Night

2010-05-17T15:57:00.000-07:00

Drunk Girl Who I Wouldn't Serve Anymore: " Umm, heeeeyyy mista bartenda, I'ya been waiting for my Bud Light foreva!!!"

Me: "See me? Do see me?"

Drunk Girl Who I Wouldn't Serve Anymore: "Yeahs Gimme my Bud and some shots!"

Me: "Wait you saw me right? Do you think I'm almost about to get around to you? I have two customers... I have virtually nothing to do right now. Clearly I'm ignoring you. Really... You didn't catch any of this? Really?"
Drunk Girl Who I Wouldn't Serve Anymore: " Whaaa? ...Hey jus gimme my Bud and some shots!"

Me: (As I threw a cab number at her) " Baaaahhhhh.... Bye Felicia....!!! "

Drunk Girl Who I Wouldn't Serve Anymore: " Who's Felicia?!"

Me: "Exactly bitch..."

----

Me: "Dude seriously... You left me a zero tip on a 102$ tab? I've busted my ass for the last four hours for you. I've tolerated you creeping out every hot girl in my bar because I thought you were an okay guy."

Drunk Guy: "Maaaaiiinnnn, fuck you (he throws 3 crumpled up one dollar bills in my face), fuck you nigga!!!! " (he was African-American)

Me: " Get the fuck out and never ever come near this bar again."

Drunk Guy: " When you get off muthafucka?!!!"

Me: "3:30 AM on the dot."

Drunk Guy: "Ima come back and clap yo ass up then!"

Me: "Well I have your credit card, so come back and clap for me or whatever you were gonna do, then the cops will have an easy time putting you in jail or putting you back in jail, or clapping you or something. You really want another strike retard? Hahahahahaha!!!!"

Drunk Guy: "Roogheyhdsjfkdbsks fb Ima clap you, clock clock, risbnnrehe fjg fvn gfRowf rowlf!!!"

Me: "Bye Felicia."

(For the record I threw his 3 crumpled up dollar bills in the trash. It was a matter of principle.)

---

Drunk Bar Girl: "So If I show you my tits again can I get a shot?"

Me: "Nah..."

Drunk Bar Girl: "What?! You don't want to see my tits again?!"

Me: "If they've somehow changed in the past week then maybe...."

Punch Drunk # 22

2010-05-11T13:45:00.000-07:00

In this weeks Punch Drunk I defended downtown Richmond from whitey. In other words, I fought the power. Go read it here or find a print edition on the streets.

Strawberry Hill DOMINATION 2010

2010-05-10T13:27:00.000-07:00

* I have "Drinking horrendous amounts of vodka" to win, "Doing key bumps with a complete stranger" to place, and "Fingering some girl who thought I was cute in high school" to show. Folks you can take those bets to the bank. They're stone cold locks.

It's already time for the Strawberry Hill Races? What the fuck? It seems like only yesterday that I was vomiting blood in between bouts of making out with every mud turtle that said hi to me.

Well, as always, I have some tips to prepare you for the onslaught of booze, nudity, idiocy, and port-a-johns overflowing with shit that we will all willingly endure come Saturday.

Do you want to be cool and tough like me?! Do you want to make it rain awesomeness all over your tailgate??!!!! Pay attention:

- I've always said that hooking up with random hookers at Strawberry Hill is highly encouraged, nay, highly mandatory for everyone. While I don't recommend getting into a relationship if you're single, you never know what may come of a random-hooker-"hook-up" at Strawberry Hill. Case in point: The first time I fondled my girlfriend was one year ago at Strawberry Hill, and somehow our drunken shenanigans that day have withstood the test of time. This is an anomaly though. Whatever hooker you end up banging will be embarrassingly obese. Luckily no one, including her, will remember anything.

- In the past I've given you a detailed list of things to bring with you to the Hill. This year I pared it down a bit.

Here's all that you need: 70 milligrams of Adderall (upped from last year's recommendation of 60 milligrams), Sunglasses and money. I personally will not be bringing booze. There's plenty of alcohol to be had, unless you don't have friends. So actually most of you should probably bring a pint of Old Crow or something.

- Eat early and hit the shitters early. You can always piss behind a car, you cannot however shit behind a car.

- Eat something. To many people forget to eat, including me. Once that Adderall is coursing through your veins you will feel invincible, like you can drink the world. You will pay with vomit and bile later if you don't eat first.

- Stay away from the redneck idiots and the white guys who think they're black. They are nothing but trouble and are the reason for 100 percent of the fights that WILL occur at the Hill. You can easily spot them by their chinstraps and ridiculously oversized clothing. Seriously guys, lets leave the whole being black thing to African Americans, they've already perfected it.

- Don't try to walk the whole track. It's a waste of time and energy. Stay within 50 spots of your encampment and you'll end up seeing everyone you will ever want or need to see. Including your ex. Seeing your ex (or many ex's) is sort of like a rite of passage at Strawberry Hill.

- Don't do Cocaine in the port-a-johns. Do it behind your car. Unless it's windy. Then do it in the port-a-johns.

Disclaimer: Drugs are not for everyone and I don't condone their usage....

Previous posts on how to be a winner at The Strawberry Hill Races:
2009
2008

A Friday Night Off

2010-05-07T16:27:00.000-07:00

Friday night and I'm at a cafe, figuring that I can do something, anything with my time better than laying in bed for another few hours watching Family Guy re-runs and gorging myself on Diet Pepsi and tortilla chips. Still being completely riddled by pink eye and thus, in a deplorable mood, I attempt to read. Only all of the little kids that families insist on bringing into what is supposed to be a peaceful cafe keep screaming and bumping my chair and shitting themselves while the parents smile contentedly, happy to let other people endure the shit life they've embarked upon.

I'm tempted to rub my puss-fulled eyes until they're bleeding and then with a mischievous grin start faux-playing with the kids, touching their faces and playing peek-a-boo, only I'm not that cruel. Instead I'll just go into the bathroom and rub my conjunctivitis all over every surface and then giggle to myself when one of these little asshole's parents go to use the bathroom. Pink eye will be like my anthrax, and at this point, I wish a package of white powder would just go ahead and take out this entire goddamn cafe, myself included. Only once again, I'm not that cruel.

I keep getting texts to "get my ass out and drink" and I keep responding that "I can't because my eyes look like they got beat up by George Huguely". The people that respond with "Who is George Huguely?" don't get a text back because they suck. The people who respond with "Wow, a little soon for the George Huguely jokes" don't get a text back either, because they suck.

"She's Gone" by Hall and Oates comes on in the Cafe and I'm thinking yeah, she is gone. She's bartending for the night and I'm here at a cafe bereft of any human contact because of my pink eye, and I'm thinking, this isn't that bad. I'm thinking I'll get a glass of wine and then on the way home I'll grab a good bottle of red. I'm thinking pink eye and little screaming bastards won't ruin my Friday off.

It would be okay to be behind the bar making money but drinking wine, watching whatever movie I can find on TV and masturbating a few times sounds pretty nice too.

I just realized that the cafe is playing Hall and Oate's greatest hits and I start smiling for the first time today.

Injury Report

2010-05-06T21:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Cinco De Mayo and it was easily one of the most punishing shifts I've ever worked behind a bar. Somehow I ended up with pink eye, in both eyes, in addition to my usual morning after ailments including but not limited to achy joints, bloody fingernails, swollen up Vienna sausage fingers, loss of voice and of course the bruises that inevitably appear when one is navigating their way around three bartenders and a barback on a very slippery floor.

This is a floor that is so slippery and icey that just last week I did a triple salchow (I fell) into the main speed rack and took a few metallic speed pourers into the kidney, leaving long jagged cuts down my side and leaving my girlfriend to ask who else I'm sleeping with because she didn't believe that metallic speed pourers could cause that much damage. Did I mention that my ice capades occurred at midnight, in the middle of the Saturday night rush? More than a few ladies got a nice laugh at my expense.

But seriously, pink eye?! What the fuck? The only people that get pink eye are third-graders, and apparently, me.

I'm not bitching though. I made bank last night and it was fun, even if now I'm relegated to my bed with yellow ooze seeping out of both of my eyes.

Don't let anyone tell you that bartending is fun and easy and carefree. I mean, it is indeed all of those things, unless you manage to contract conjunctivitis in both of your eyes. Which if you can imagine, has sort of put a damper on my Thursday.

Also if there's a major outbreak of pink eye among the 21-35 year old party people demographic in the Richmond Metro area tomorrow, someone alert me so I can take this blog post down and deny all responsibility. Thanks.

Reader Mailbag: Boob Blog

2010-05-03T13:50:00.000-07:00

Hello Jack,

We've followed your blog and Style articles for a while, so when we decided to start a little project recently, we thought you'd be a perfect contact to help spread the word and gather submissions.
The project is called "Richmond Boobs," and it's modeled after the Boobs@Bard site. The goal is to celebrate the diversity and beauty of breasts from across the Richmond area. As such, we're looking for images from Richmond residents or images taken at Richmond locations. The ideal shots will include recognizable Richmond landmarks, but that's not a necessity.
....
We've just started, so we only have a few images so far. We're hoping your wit, charm, and connections can help with that.

Thank,
Richmond Boobs (http://richmondboobs.tumblr.com/)

I'm not even sure what to say about this. My hunch is that "Richmond Boobs" is just two horny University of Richmond kids attempting to have a few more boobs in their life.

And believe it or not, I wholeheartedly support their cause. Plus they stroked my massive ego and that happens to be a surefire method for getting me to do pretty much anything.

Send them some boob shots. Any boobs will do. Girlfriend, Mom, Grandmother, Grandfather... Just snap a pic with your iPhone.

Mission Statement

2010-04-29T23:59:00.000-07:00

"What keeps a hotel (or restaurant) going is the fact that the employees take a genuine pride in their work, beastly and silly though it is. If a man idles, the others soon find him out, and conspire to get him sacked. Cooks, waiters and plongeurs differ greatly in out-look, but they are all alike in being proud of their efficiency."

-George Orwell (Down And Out In London and Paris)

It is beastly, it is silly, and at times, it sucks my pale white ass. But regardless of whether you're a 40 year old lifer bartender or a 22 year old just trying to work your way through college, do me a favor when you're serving the masses: Don't slack off.

There's a certain pride in restaurant work, a certain self-respect that comes with finishing a particularly brutal shift, a certain self-satisfaction that only a true blue collar worker can know.

Don't waste our fucking time if you're going to slack off and bitch. I see it every day, and I call people on it every day. It's my job, and I bust my ass to do it well. If you want to be in a cubicle, drop your bar-rag and get the fuck out of my way.

Until I'm back to pushing pencils and contemplating suicide, this is my job, and I'm gonna do it better than you.

Funny Bar Exchanges

2010-04-29T14:27:00.000-07:00

Gay guy who leered at me all night: "Can I give you my number?"

Me: "No"

Gay guy who leered at me all night: "Can I have your number?"

Me: "No"

Gay guy who leered at me all night: "Okay, well thanks anyways."

Me: "No"

I guess you sort of had to be there to appreciate this one.

Another Bartender: "Listen these shots didn't just make themselves, so you know, lets see some boobs."

Yes, we can be a bit direct at times, and yes, she complied.... Bartending gives you a perverse, yet realistic sense of power.

Punch Drunk # 21

2010-04-27T11:51:00.000-07:00

New Punch Drunk out in Style Weekly today. This week I discussed my penchant for Gin. Then I got drunk and started acting really bizarre.

I can't explain it. Just go read it here or find a print edition on the streets.

My TV Pitch

2010-04-21T12:58:00.000-07:00

I used to be a huge fan of the Comedy Central show "Insomniac with Dave Alltel". The basic premise is Dave visits random cities, hits bars (mostly dives), gets drunk, says funny things, meets a bunch of freaks and then gets more drunk. It really made for entertaining TV. After four seasons the show ended, presumably because it got too big and Dave couldn't enter a bar without being mobbed by frat boys.

The idea of following a drunken comic, with his brand of humor (think very very adult), and then allowing him to do whatever he wants (which included getting high and although never shown on camera, doing blow) was awesome.

I'd like to do a show like this, only different.

My version would be much much darker, which is tough because Alltel is known for his dark brand of humor.

In edition to doing blow and getting high, the show would feature me getting into fights, picking up hookers, paying bums to fight, saying things that would have every association north of PETA wanting to kill me and generally behaving like, well, myself. It wouldn't be comedic, it would be more like a dramedy. I would purposely try to get into super-awkward situations in which the viewer would really have no choice but to change the channel. Sort of like the show "Intervention", only the exact opposite. Or like "No Reservations", only hold the food, up the drinking and cussing, and then throw in a splash of local bar history or city knowledge in an attempt to fool people that the show serves some sort of purpose, which of course, it will not.

The first season would gain a cult following because I would end up in Jail at some point, there would be graphic nudity, I'd be banned from certain cities and also the wildely popular hobo fights. I'd have people such as Doug Stanhope, Mickey Avalon and Artie Lange on with me and we would get into only the most lurid types of trouble.

People would protest the show and spit at me on the streets. The show would end after one season but I would still make a mint off the DVD sales.

I imagine this would have to be on a premium channel such as Showtime, HBO or maybe Spice. Although FX is known for pushing the envelope here and there.

These are the things I daydream about at 4 PM on a Wednesday. Sad... I know.

Hendrick's Gin, Reviewed

2010-04-20T15:27:00.000-07:00

"Work is the curse of the drinking classes." -Oscar Wilde, notorious Gin imbiber and all-around funny guy.

Hendrick's Gin is a must buy. In addition to having a deliciously cool, cucumber finish, it comes in a badass apothecary-style bottle. Tear the label off, invite your friends over and tell them it's a magic elixir that you got from some traveling salesman/carnie. They'll be impressed.

Mix with tonic if you must, but Hendrick's begs to be drank up, ice cold, bone dry and garnished with about 15 cucumber slices.

What? You don't like Gin? Learn to like it.

Vodka is dead.

Funny Bar Exchanges From The Weekend

2010-04-19T12:02:00.000-07:00

Me: "C'mon those puppies are fake. They're like two rocks up there."

Female Customer: "Oh you don't think my boobs are real? Everyone in this group behind me has felt em and they're real. Here, grab one."

--

Some Guy: "It smells like vomit in here."

Me: "Hmmm... Hey can you do a lap around the restaurant and find the puddle for me? I'm sort of busy."

--

Drunk Girl: "Make me an Octo-Blaster shot!"

Me: "Never heard of it, but I'll make you a green shot with a bunch of shit in it and you won't know the difference."

Drunk Girl: "Yaaaayyyy!!!!!"

--

Some Guy: "Yo lemme get some mo Goose in this drink."

Me: "Yo lemme get ten mo dollas."

--

Con Man: "Hey dog, I ordered chicken, not beef."

Me: "Oh my fault, although I noticed you've already eaten the whole thing...Sooooo... Do you want another plate with chicken? Or...."

Con Man: "Well you messed up my order."

Me: "You're correct and I apologize, and I would have been glad to get the kitchen to fix you the correct plate, but, well, you already ate everything."

Con Man: "So is it free?"

Me: "No sir. But I can provide you with your original order, meaning you get two meals for the price of one."

Con Man: "What? I ain't hungry now."

Me: "Yeah me neither. I had Taco Bell earlier. Their ground beef wasn't free either. So what's it gonna be?"

(He paid and I gave him a free margarita.... You win some, you lose some.)

--

Nascar Hat Guy: "Hey gimme some of Coors and some Jagersssmeisters."

Me: "I'll give you a water, but I'm not going to serve you any alcohol. You're too drunk."

Nascar Hat Guy: "Hey fucks you man...I'lls fucks you up." (Then he fell down.)

Me: "Fastest knock-out ever."

Punch Drunk # 20

2010-04-13T12:10:00.001-07:00

This week I profiled long time Richmond bartender Sean Telliard, head barman at Morton's Steakhouse. I also introduced my mouth to an Irish Whiskey that is not Jameson or Bushmills, and loved it. Read the piece here or go find a print edition of Style Weekly on the streets.

Would You Care For A Salt Rim?

2010-04-13T10:41:00.000-07:00

"In fact, Margaritas up, with salt, recently tied Old-Fashioneds, in an informal poll of my bartenders, as the most irritatingly labor-intensive drinks we'll actually deign to make." - Excerpt from "Cosmopolitan: A Bartender's Life", Toby Cecchini

I don't think I'd be too far off base by saying that I've made more margaritas (mostly on the rocks) in the past two years than any other bartender in Richmond. There's a few guys that probably have me beat (Banditos comes to mind), but it's close. I guess it was annoying at first, but now whenever a service ticket pops up with 7 happy hour margaritas, I don't even blink. My muscle memory kicks into cruise control and those things are out to the floor staff in what feels like giga-seconds. Of course I try to take my time whenever some elitist wants more of a luxury Margarita, but these things can only be so fancy. People come up and say, "I'll have a Cadillac Margarita", or "Gimme your Ultimate Margarita." This isn't Chili's and we don't have any ridiculous names for our Margaritas but I know what these people want. They want Patron and they want to be charged 12 bucks, so I happily oblige them.

On the topic of Old Fashioneds. I've made about 10 in three years, and it wasn't at my current bar. If someone comes into work tonight and orders an Old Fashioned, I will drop dead from the shock. Then I'll come back to life and tell them that we don't have any oranges or cherries anyways and would they not care for a "Super Platinum, Rolls Royce Margarita" instead? Its got Patron and Grand Marnier in it!!!!

Pop Quiz

2010-04-09T21:58:00.001-07:00

a) Fellow bartender Dane Acton wouldn't stop grabbing my ass every time I passed, so I punched the shit out of him.

b) Fellow bartender Dane Acton challenged me to a punch off and promptly knocked me unconscious after this picture was taken.

c) I continued to refer to fellow bartender Dane Acton as....Anne D'Acton. This prompted him to challenge me to a duel. Which as you can see, I won.

d) Fellow bartender Dane Acton told me that my Dirty Martinis were slightly too dirty for his tastes, so I knocked him on his ass.

e) This picture is staged. Fellow bartender Dane Acton and I are quite gay and thus scared to engage in any real fisticuffs.

Letter To The Editor

2010-04-05T10:59:00.000-07:00

I wrote myself this letter over two years ago. It's funny because here we are two years later and nothing has really changed.

Dear Me,

I want to congratulate you, or I should say us, on being such smashing sexy successes in 2007. Lets run down what made the last year of our life so incredibly awesome. We managed to work for two different employers and still end the year unemployed and with virtually no prospects. I really want to pat us on the back for such a show of incompetence and utter laziness. We proved that money and bills mean absolutely nothing to us.

-An 89% condom usage rate!!! We managed to shatter our previous record of 40% set in 2005. Somehow all of those fearful trips to the free clinic and the multiple cotton swabs to the pee-pee hole finally scared us straight.

-Though I don't have the numbers to back this up, it would be safe to say that 2007 was our heaviest drinking year yet. We really took our "college-self" out behind the tool shed and kicked his bitch-ass. He couldn't keep up with the new and improved drinking 'us'. Also judging by the huge facial scar and multiple condom wrappers found behind the bed, I'm just gonna go out on a limb and say that we blacked out in 2007 more than any other previous years. Na zdrowie!

-2007 also held another first for us. More broken promises. Our lack of follow-through in 2007 was simply astounding. By checking our voicemail I can count 13 unreturned calls from last week alone. Do the math. That's us avoiding responsibility and work with amazing discipline. Keep it up you!

-Another great new thing I've noticed about our self in 2007 was the complete lack of restraint in social settings. We cussed at bosses, parents, waiters, strangers... It was really charming and at times a bit terrifying how we refused to take crap from anyone, anywhere, anytime. Regardless of the consequences, we made it known how we felt. Social tact be damned!

-And last but not least, through all the drinking, drugs, sex, shameless self-promotion, avoidance of work, sloth, etc... We did do one thing exceptionally well.... We always kept it sexy. It may have something to do with all the product we use in our hair, but seriously, we never had a hair out of place in all of 2007. I mean damn....We really looked good.

Good work me.

Keep it up.

Your Lover,

Jack

Punch Drunk # 19

2010-03-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

Watching the NCAA Tourney and getting hammercanned. This is what I wrote about this week in our local alternative paper, Style Weekly. Also check at the end for an update on our new Governor's proposed plan to privatize ABC.

Go read it here, or hit the street and find a print copy.

The Saloon-Keep

2010-03-30T12:20:00.000-07:00

"In Nevada, for a time, the lawyer, the editor, the banker, the chief desperado, the chief gambler, and the saloon-keeper occupied the same level of society, and it was the highest."

- Stolen from Mixologist Jeff's blog, who stole it from Mark Twain (who even though a literary giant, could not find the time to create his own personal blog, hence the lack of a link.)

I agree with this statement. As an avid, some would say problematic gambler and a full-time barkeep, I am without a doubt, firmly ensconced in the highest rung of society. That is if today's society had no laws, everyone carried guns and heavy drinking was celebrated in lieu of being frowned upon.

I really think I would've kicked ass back in the Old West. Or as a pirate.

*Me at 35. I blame the Rumpleminze.

The Real Life Nutzy

2010-03-29T15:57:00.000-07:00

You want a reason to start cheering for Richmond's new Double-A baseball team "The Flying Squirrels"?

I bartended for their top dog the other day. Officially he is the team's VP/COO, unofficially he's the man and his name is "Parney".

The word on the streets was that The Squirrels were a different organization, one that embraced wacky ideas and one that was willing to challenge the status quo of stodgy, non fan-friendly minor league baseball teams. This word is the truth.

From witnessing Parney dance on the bar (half-shirtless) as we bumped out 80's big hair metal to his obvious penchant for women and whiskey, it's clear that this guy is going to give Richmond one hell of a baseball season. He seemed more WWE promoter than business man, which makes sense when your team mascot's name is "Nutzy".

Previously in Style Weekly I had offered the Squirrels some ideas on how to get people out to games:

For Richmond’s new baseball team, the Flying Squirrels: Resolve to put butts in the seats at any cost. My suggestions: Nickel beer night (every night). Serve real squirrels at concessions: grilled, fried, raw, squirrel on a stick. And the always fun Squirrel Hunt Saturdays: BB guns in the bleachers + squirrels on the field = family fun.

Parney said he had read it and that he might consider them. I told you this guy was of a different breed.

So now I've brokered a deal with him that involves a ticket or two in exchange for the occasional text message notifying him if any groups of beautiful women walk into my bar.

That, I can do. Go Squirrels!

Tough As Nails

2010-03-26T06:35:00.001-07:00

To the casual observer this may look like a still from The Godfather. Don't let it fool you though. This is actually myself and NBC12's legendary newsman Gene Cox. For those of you non-Richmonders, Gene Cox is our local Kent Brockman/Ron Burgundy/Tom Tucker. Full Discloser: I offered to buy Mr.Cox a shot. He politely declined.

Slutty Hot

2010-03-23T16:38:00.001-07:00

I'd seen her in the bar about a hundred times. A shock of blond hair. A perversely beautiful face not out of a catalogue, but closer to the Pam Anderson mold. A body fit for the pages of Maxim. I believe the term I'm looking for is "slutty-hot". The type of girl you fantasize about slapping in the face during coitus, but never taking on a date.

She was always in the bar with some random guy or another whose faces I now couldn't recognize if my life depended on it. She was always drinking heavily. Whispers and rumors abounded that during the evening hours she made her money as a stripper. It wasn't hard to believe.

She always shot those "fuck-me" eyes when I served up her Pinot Noir. Eyes that she no doubt had shot many a men in her life. If she wasn't making out and groping the dude she was with then she was probably getting hammered and yelling at someone. Sometimes she had girlfriends with her who were worse. A few times I had to ask her to leave.

I noticed her sit down at the bar a few days ago. She had a girlfriend with her this time. After shots and a few glasses of wine it became apparent that her friend had had enough. I stopped serving the friend but continued to pour wine for the stripper. The stripper rumors being confirmed long ago.

Eventually her intoxicated friend started mouthing off to some other girl in the bar. Slurring and screaming, "I'll fuck you up bitch!" and "You don't know who I am do you?!" It was time for them to go.

I started to remove the two and that's when I noticed it. The unmistakable stomach bump of impending birth. The stripper was noticeably pregnant. We're talking nearing third trimester pregnant.

I wasn't able to discern this while she was sitting at the bar.

My other bartender pontificated that maybe she had just been drinking to much and that it was nothing more than a beer gut. After further inquiries we came to find that it was no beer gut.

Fascinated and disappointed at the same time, I watched as she stood out on the sidewalk in front of the bar, smoking a cigarette and clearly drunk from the wine. Hand on her hip, belly protruding, limbs and neckline still firm.

I knew I wasn't to blame. If I asked every woman with a gut if she was pregnant I'd be dead by now. But still, it made me realize something.

"Slutty-hot" girls are never to be trusted. Ever. Poop on the slutty-hot girls chest if you want, but only marry the non-slutty-hot girl from next door.

Oh and condoms. For fucks sake if you're going to fuck a stripper, wear a condom!

Healthcare Reform Affects Me!

2010-03-22T02:02:00.000-07:00

So the health care bill passed the House Of Representatives and hark the herald angels sing, people without health insurance are now provided coverage! I'm not attempting to understand health care or health care reform. I already pay a c-note+ each month for coverage that probably wouldn't even defer the Patient First bills that come with a rough case of poison ivy. The only part that actually caught my attention was the final minute wheeling and dealing that ensured that federal money could not be used for abortions, which apparently was the selling point for a few on the fence Congressmen and helped to finalize the bill.

Listen, social reform is just the tits. I'm perfectly fine with helping people to advance themselves. But we missed a key point here America: By not providing abortion coverage, Obama and the Dems have forgotten about an important segment of our society...

They forgot about the crackwhores who take on un-condomed penises for crack.

Brace yourselves, but there is a large segment of the crackhead community that does not require the "crack-supplier" to wear a condom during the "crack-purchasing" stage.

If anything the passing of this health care bill is only encouraging back-alley abortions by crackhead pregnant women, and while cost-effective, back-alley abortions are simply not safe. Also by allowing crackhoes to procreate we allow inferior children to enter the world, children that were not privy to non-crackhead mothers. With this there's a snowball effect of taxpayer spending that involves extra-schooling, medical care, rehabilitation, etc. Not to mention the poor young child's insatiable blood lust for crack.

Finding the "rock", trading sexual acts in the back seat of a Ford Taurus in exchange for it, then finding paraphernalia with which to freebase said "rock" is hard enough. Let's cut these ladies some slack when it comes to disposing of a fetus that surely has already been riddled with drugs and various other sexually transmitted ailments.

I've never given a blow job for crack, but they have and god willing, they will give many more for a taste of that sweet sweet white jellybean. Do me a favor: Call your congressman today. Fight the power.

Digestif Article and Punch Drunk # 18

2010-03-16T12:08:00.000-07:00

This week Style Weekly released their annual "State Of The Plate" issue concerning local restaurants and local restaurant trends. For the "State" issue I did a long article on the resurgence of digestifs and it included a bar crawl I conducted in search of the cities best after-dinner drinks. I also had my usual boozy "Punch Drunk" column which was about a recent night at the Virginia Wine Expo.

"Letting It Linger: Slow Sips In Search For The Timeless Digestif" - click here for the online version.

"Punch Drunk: Spit And Polish" - click here for the online version.

NBC 12 Restaurant Report from Thursday 3/18 featuring Style Weekly and myself. - here

We Shall Fight On The Beaches

2010-03-12T19:17:00.000-08:00

*This is a real-life picture of me bartending. Take the people in front of me at the bar and multiple them by 100 and you can see what tomorrow will be like for me.

The day of reckoning is upon us men. We've been training for this moment our entire lives and we will not fail. We will stoically make Irish Car Bombs. We will not flinch when asked for 15 pints of Guinness. We will drop green food coloring in our kegs to make the Miller Lite more festive! Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that if the Commonwealth of Virginia and its best bar last for a thousand years, men will still say, 'This was their finest hour.'

Bring it on St. Patrick's Day.

The Streets Will Flow Green With Blood

2010-03-09T11:55:00.000-08:00

"Oh ye streets of Richemonde will flow bileesh green with the regurg of soused reveleres come Saturday, from the heights of Oregon Hille down ye Carie St. to the vomitorium of Shamrock ye Block in the bottome. Fisticuffs will spill the blood of many patriots and ye paddy wagonne will overflow with drunken idiotes. Ye womanfolk will be gropped, ye Nissane Altima will be driven wrecklessly through the streets. How I pray to Ol' Saint Patrick for no one to bash my head with ye container of Bud Light." - Some Mick Bartender.

St.Patricks Day is next Wednesday and the official celebration is this Saturday. I will be cowering in fear behind the bar on both of these days. Pray to the Boondock Saints for me on Saturday as I clean vomit off the bar from the crack of 12 PM until last call at 2 AM.

Last year I gave Richmonders and RVANEWS some humorous tips for St. Pat's Day and a list of Richmond bars to get crunked-up at. Check it out here: http://rvanews.com/seasonal/jacks-st-patricks-day-pub-crawl

Ye money I make will pay all of my bills so I sort of look forward to the intensity that is bartending on St.Pats, plus I can always slip away for an Irish Car Bomb or six.

Sunday Strikes Again

2010-03-08T12:59:00.000-08:00

What do the entire Yale Men's Lacrosse team, an ER visit for 13 ass-cheek stitches, a guy in a Captain Planet suit and enough booze (and vomit) to float a yacht have in common? If you guessed Gay Porno Night at The Cockpit you would be wrong. This was my bar on Sunday night.

Sure it may not sound like fun, but trust me, there is a reason why Sunday is the crown jewel of drinking days.

The stitches had nothing to do with sodomy either.

Welcome to college. Here's your stick, here's your elbow pads, and here's your one get out of jail free after raping a black stripper card. Use it wisely.

Punch Drunk # 17

2010-03-02T13:51:00.000-08:00

New Punch Drunk out in Style Weekly today. This week I discussed my recent trip to Atlantic City and introduced Virginia to a new Vodka that recently became available. Check it out here or pick up a print copy.