My latest post is at The Liars Club, a Chicago based blog that myself and a few other bloggers contribute towards. Please come by, because readership over there is poor, mostly due to inconsistent posting by all four members, who seem to have drinking, bunsen burners, baseball, and DJ Major Dad, respectively, as their priorities. The Liar's Club got its name from the best bar in Chicago. It is a watering hole that will always hold a special place in my heart, as well as my liver. I haven't been there in a while, mostly because I've been dating someone seriously for the past four months and so has the Heterosexual Life Partner (HLP)*. It just isn't a good place to take the lady for a cocktail, and it doesn't work as a guys with girlfriends' night out spot, because the music is cranked to such a deafening level, that you can't converse, catch up, etc.** The one time I did bring my girlfriend in there, I almost said to one staff member, pointing to the girlfriend, "This is why you guys haven't been seeing me around lately."
Here's one more bazaar tidbit that speaks to my love affair with that bar: Every time I drive by it, if I happen to get off at the Fullerton exit when the Armitage one is backed up, I do the thing Sammy Sosa did after catching fly balls, kissing two fingers, touching them to my chest, and pointing towards the dirty, LC facade. span style="font-weight:bold;">*The other day, HLP said to me, "Imagine if just one of us were dating someone for this long? How miserable would that other guy be?" We both had a laugh, because, sadly, it's true.
**If the bar doesn't work well in either of these functions, then I guess you can sort of fill in the blanks as to what capacity it did function for us, and don't say for wooing each other, because I acknowledge that it sort of reads like that.
15 comments:
That's just silly. Everyone knows that the best hole in the wall in Chicago is the South Loop Club.
it probably served well for yelling 'WOO' at each other and just being 'bros'
since moving to my new room at school i am sans hetero life partner, it's pretty sad. tho i guess it's something of a moot point bc i'm home and i'm learning to run errands by myself.
Donk: I knew the South Loop Club well. It's a 24hour bar. Who needs that beer at 7:45 AM?
Casey: Poorly worded post? Aren't you the guy who just left a comment using the word "too" incorrectly? Congrats on the railing, though.
Jers: You need that HLP! It's like being without a dry cleaner. Somehow . . .
i have a place like that in b-more. it's called mex... it's like our cheers, where everone knows our name. it's where the bros can just be bros.
Yeah, Alle and I have said the same thing. If she were dating someone and I wasn't I would be miserable.
Indeed. i only comment here when I'm about half shitty. Or more.
Besides, aren't you like, some sort of real writer?
The bar is higher for you, my friend.
Don't even try to tell me that all your gyrations at the LC weren't for HLP!
BTW DJ Major Dad after not seeing me for, hmm, almost a year, still recognized me and finally asked me my proper name. Now he can't refer to me as that crazy aerobicizing booty dancing girl anyone. Swoon . . .
Bunsen burners?
Oh, well, not sure I get the reference, but I guess they are important if you still have some merit badges to pick up in Boy Scouts.
Not being able to troll for skanks like you used to is the worst part of having a lady.
hey question: how come i'm one of your 7 readers but im not a blogger you heart?
okay, I'm totally waiting for you to bust into a Toby Keith-style serenade. It's okay, though. I, too am in love with a bar. It's in New Hope, PA, and it's called John and Peter's (Juan y Pedros, actually). I guess everyone has their favorite haunt. The best bars, in my humble opinion, allow you to throw peanut shells on the floor. They also have to make good bloody marys (not from some lame mix, but from scratch and with old bay seasoning around the rim, olives, and preferably a cocktail shrimp.) They should also have a large biker clientele and live music. Another bar that I love which fits this description is in islamorada, FL called Hog Heaven.
HONEY I'M HOME!
I want to be in love with a bar and I really try with lots of different ones, but they are never quite right. I have had bars in the past. Appreciate them when you have them ...
Oh My God! Oran Juice Jones is on your music thing???? I haven't heard that song in forever! Awesome. It brings back memories for sure!
360: Let a bro be a bro! I like it.
Chardsy: Yes, it's nice when it sincs up, right?
Casey: I'm no real writer just yet. When I'm getting paid for it that bar will go up. Until then, I'm going to say stuff like, "Ain't nobody gonna say nothin' 'bout this here blog!"
Fancy: Every fourth giration is for HLP. This is true. Sounds like somebody might be girating in DJ Major Dad's general direction . . .
Zen: The bunsen burner thing was for Cherry, who is going back to school and taking real hard science classes.
Pistol: Skank trolling! Well, as long as you don't accidentally troll up a troll.
Jov: I haven't added anyone on the bloggroll in quite some time, because I haven't been up on reading them as much as I used to. This summer I should pick it back up, so you may find yourself hearted before you know it.
Allison: Hog Heaven! I like it.
Rev: Rev is back! I almost shifted you to retirement status.
Bill: Keep courting those bars, and I'm sure one will win your heart.
Radio: I know the whole monologue at the end of that song. It brings the house down in karaoke.
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