What whiskey will not cure, there is no cure for
An old fishermans pub which looks over the local harbour. Good music and late drinking.
Many visitors and locals alike, but more men than women overall and some class sleazy lines to be heard. Good laugh.
Your chances of getting your ass kicked here is pretty good. Opens early and closes late. Sign on the door says to leave your guns in your truck, though the rule isn't really enforced.
Bands on Friday and Saturday night. Rare to find a chick over a "5" here. This is a small town without a police department. The state police take anywhere from 15 to 45 minutes to show up for the weekend fights that happen EVERY Friday and Saturday night.
Probably one of the last bars in the entire US where you can still get a 25 cent beer. Lots of dead animals stuffed on the walls. Lots of wild clientle. You are guaranteed to leave this bar with a good story to tell your buddies - no question about it.
Like partying in your best friend's basement circa. 1979- probably hasen't been cleaned since then either. Come to think of it, same applies to most of the regulars.
This bar is near the corner of Main Street and 7th Street. Its in Skid Row. Its point of interest is that it is in the title montage of the film written by Charles Bukowski, "Barfly". At that time, the neon sign was still working. I'm interested in restoring the sign. There is no "bartime" at this bar. The stay open right up to 2:00 AM, at which time everyone is pushed out the door.
If your scared of entering a dark dingy place that may or may not have undesirables loitering around the front, no problem. Once your in the front doors keep your back to the wall. I've never seen anything go down, but you may feel safe for your first few visits.
Cheap beer and great jazz...nice sacrafice. Impress your new girlfriend and show her how brave you are!
Come on down. Land of the free and home of the drunk.
PS-must get along well with Natives.
drunken bums, street folk trying to sell you things (from sunglasses to electric beard trimmers), rowdy natives, $1.50 draft, live country bands every night, ladies and theyre johns...on hastings.
in fact, there is nothing classy about this place.
to quote the vancouver courier:
"It's 3 o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon and tables at the Grand Union Hotel on Hastings Street, three blocks west of Main, are almost full."
Deep under the surface of Portland lies the famous Geno's. The only way in is through a black door and down a narrow flight of stairs. Once down there, there is no escape, no help, as your cell phone has no service. A band will be playing loud punk music, ideally. The beer is no frills. The mixed drinks are strong. The bartender is trashed.
The lady's room has seen some action. The green room has seen more.
The most famous true tale of Geno's is GG Allen took a shit on the stage, and Geno himself kicked him out.
Strip Joint, and fine sleazy bar. Total local digs where the stripper is most likely your neighbor and may be not the one you want on stage.
Drinks are fair priced and mixed strong. Fine for a quick fix if any of the other 4 strip joint on 3 miles of this road won't do...
Royals Pub, on the island of Hong Kong. In the mens bathroom there is a urinal, a sink and a toilet. It's guaranteed that at least two are filled with vomit on any given night.
WOW, i can't belive this isn't on here. i swear that all this is true. the bar is a one story building/ shack that is slightly leaning foward, from what i have been told that it has been this way since the 70's and hasnt fallen yet. the inside is a half concert floor and half dirt. the barmaids are some towny sluts that have more tattoos than the average biker. The mens room has a hole in the ground to piss in. I hear that the womens room has a toliet, but nobody would even go in and check it. bikers and good old country boys only come to this bar. i know of one stabbing there and have heard of some other shaddy things going on, but i cant be sure. this place is not somewhere you go to meet a chick, unless you want to date your own sister.
Affectionally known by all as "The Pansybar", this 24 hour joint is located on KIng street in Newtown, a suburb not unlike Greenwich Village I suppose. Decked out in faux Morrocan, the leopard print carpet, imitation fire and cheesy mid nineties euro-pop make for a mix which is similar to the feeling you get after your 16th Black Russian at 5:30 am....probably iit's only redeeming feature is it's infamous badge draw, which has hiteight Grand in recent weeks. Oh, that and the fact they will serve you 16 Black Russians with a smile. Nuff said...