This Week for Happy Hour: The Festival of Enormous Changes at the Last Minute

It’s the last Rhino Bar Happy Hour of 2011 – your last chance to get cheap tasties and a good buzz on before the Saturday clock strikes twelve and we officially enter the last year on the Mayan calendar!  Oh, the endless reasons to imbibe. 

So whatever you’ve got planned for 2012, put those designs on hold and get your hiney in a bar stool and drink in the moment while it lasts.  The enormity of next year can wait.  It’s still 2011, for liver’s sake. 

There are no resolutions today, only alcohol solutions.  And the New Year’s Eve rookies of tomorrow night won’t be there to bother us.  They’ll be home doing stretches and carbo-loading and listening to self-esteem tapes narrated by Stuart Smalley in the hope that they can survive another “night out.”  Blech. 

Which makes this happy hour among the best of the year.  Come celebrate pre-New Year’s at the Rhino Bar today, 5-9.  Half-priced drinks and food, and a stark absence of enormous changes begotten by temporal insignificance. 

Cheers!

P.S.  New Year’s Day will continue in this vein.  The bar will be rockin’ from noon until close, with a $20 open bar from 8-10pm and a complimentary champagne toast at midnight.  Get your drink on early so you don’t get stuck in bar traffic come the ball drop.  See you there!

This Week for Happy Hour: The Legend Continues

Half-price drinks at Rhino this Friday, 5-9, in honor of David Carradine’s birthday!

Sign language for "grasshopper."

David Carradine’s birthday was yesterday, December 8^th.  Sadly, the revered star of the 1970s TV series “Kung Fu” and the 1990s follow-up series “Kung Fu: The Legend Continues” died three years ago in Bangkok, Thailand when a foray into the pleasures of the flesh via autoerotic asphyxiation went terribly awry and he choked to death in his hotel room.  Presumably, his ladyboy prostitute accompaniment absconded with the previously agreed-upon fee, a lifetime of haunted dreams, and a story to share with the other Bankok cross-dressing prostis that, by now, has no doubt achieved legendary status.

Dudes.  And yeah, they have their own beauty contest.

But that’s neither here nor there, the terms of Carradine’s death.  Because, though the man has passed on, the legend continues.  As a wise old cowboy once said, “I guess that’s the way the whole durned human comedy keeps perpetuatin’ itself, down through the generations, westward the wagons, across the sands of time,” until sooner or later you find yourself a little further down the trail, sippin’ sasparilla and reflecting on those stories and memories that make this whole experience so interesting.

So Rhino Bar is celebrating Carradine’s birthday, Kung Fu, and legends in general – all that crap – at happy hour today.  Half-price drinks and food as usual, then the party continues all night upstairs.  It’s gonna be legendary!

The irony, of course, is not lost on me, the focus on legends and memories in a venue that exists in no small part to hinder the memory functions of the brain.  But don’t be a smart ass.  Just live it up, bitches, and don’t be afraid to explore the pleasures of the flesh via autoerotic intoxication.  And don’t worry.  Even if your memory doesn’t hold up, your legend will live on, gossipy ladyboys willing.

See you there!

Cheers!

P.S. Shout to Rosemary Clooney, who died under much less interesting circumstances but could make a living room curtain into a stylish evening gown with her eyes closed.

George Clooney's Aunt, seriously.

This Week for Happy Hour: Friendsgiving

Happy Friendsgiving!

What's Friendsgiving?  Well, it's the chance to get together with the people you choose to be around for a celebration of thanks, of course. 

You may have noticed that Thanksgiving can be a little uncomfortable.  Not uncomfortable like the back seat of a Volkswagen, but, you know, awkward and a little less than pleasant.  Like when Aunt Janet asks Uncle Herb if he likes the turkey, and Uncle Herb says it's a little dry, and Aunt Janet suggests that next Thanksgiving Uncle Herb get his turkey from the Saigon whore he visited during the Vietnam War. 

Next thing you know, you're getting drunk for patience and cerebral liberation, instead of for fun and spiritual enlightenment.  And that just blows.

So there's Friendsgiving, a Thanksgiving supplement, every year during the weekend before Thanksgiving.  And we're popping it off during Happy Hour, half-price drinks and all.  Party starts at 5pm!

See you there.
Cheers!

This Week for Happy Hour: Mo-vember Rain

It’s that time of year again!  Mo-vember time.  Viva la mustache, join the mustache revolucion!

At this point, Movember has been around a while, and most know somebody who started wearing their first borderline ironic facial hair during the last few autumnal seasons.  But for those of you who aren’t in the know, here’s a quick recap.

Movember is a time (highly temporally correlated with the month of November) during which people (mostly men) grow mustaches to either a) boast thick, hyperactive lip follicles to ladies who will listen, or b) bring attention to a cause, men’s health or other.  It’s kind of analogous to walking laps around a track to bring attention to/fundraise for anything other than childhood obesity.  Except with the mustache, you also add a touch of flare. 

Ideally, as a mustache grower, you fall into a third category, the one that bridges those two aforementioned.  That would be where you get to enjoy the physical mustache in addition to raising money for a worthy cause.  [Seamless transition to Rhino’s Mo-vember Fundraising Event, otherwise known as NAMBLA.  We are raising money for Children’s National Medical Center, which provides medical services children who don’t have healthcare.  If you have extra a few extra bucks and a beating human heart, you can give at this link]:

http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/nick-bernel/m4kdc

So that’s why some folks say that Movember isn’t an ironic joke, any more than the “Save the Ta Ta’s” thing is a joke.  But I don’t understand why humor and healing sick kids, or boobies, or whatever, can’t all coexist.  You know?  Go ahead, do some good while you furry up your mouth-nostril connection, but also realize that you might cause people to laugh when they see your face. 

Which I like.  Partly because it is shavable.  And partly because I like the idea of keeping something that’s tongue-in-cheek right there next to my tongue and my cheek.  And partly because it makes me look like I have a sordid sexual history.  And partly because it makes you really appreciate the kind of guy who can rock the balls off the mustache look – really make it work for him.  (I’m looking at you, Wilford Brimley, postmaster general.)

So with no further ado (yet another seamless transition), I present to you: Rhino Bar Happy Hour Top Ten Mustaches of All Time Ever in History:

10.

Teddy Roosevelt

9.

Biker from the Village People

8.

Sam Elliott - his mustache smells like Sioux City Sasparilla

7.

Pancho Villa - Viva la mustache!

6.

Ned Flanders' mustachaleedoodalee

5.

Mark Twain - master tongue-in-cheeker

4.

Oates from Hall and Oates - or is that Simo?

3.

Tom Selleck - his mustache's name was Magnum

2.

Rollie Fingers - what a curve ball

1.

Wilford Brimley, the one and only.

Come celebrate the beginning of Movember at Rhino!  Half price Happy Hour today, 5-9pm.  Then American Football (I’m looking at you, Bill Cower) on Saturday and Sunday afternoons.

See you there!

This Week for Happy Hour: Halloween in America

Before I get started with my Halloween Happy Hour rantings, I'd  like to share this quick Top Ten list with you.  Please enjoy:

Top Ten Halloween Things That Sound Dirty but Aren't
10.	She's a goblin.
9.	I'd like to get a little something in the sack.
8.	Let me see your bag... Oh! your having a great night.
7.	Just get on your knees and bob your head.
6.	She's got a nice couple of pumpkins on her porch.
5.	If you just lick it, it will last longer.
4.	Show me your Jujubes and I'll show you my Zag Nuts.
3.	Have your mom check it before you put it in your mouth.
2.	You scared me stiff.
And the number one Halloween thing that sounds dirty but isn't is...
1.	He's got candy spread out on the floor.

In 1984, Reagan’s Presidential campaign slogan was everywhere: “It’s morning in America.”

It’s amazing that slogan ever worked, really.  And there is no way that slogan would work today – and not just because morning, for most, is associated more closely with a tired, grumpy rush out the door to go work for 10 hours at an unbeloved job.  I’m saying, a new day is not inherently a good day.  “It’s Happy Hour in America,” is something more people could get behind, I think.    

I could be wrong on that, but few would argue that things haven’t gotten a little scary lately: the global economy is at the precipice, the political system is inarguably corrupt, the banks and the populace-at-large appear to be squaring off for a pretty, pretty, pretty major conflict.  Does that sound like morning to you?

No way.  That sounds a lot more like Halloween.  And what timing.  You know, because Halloween.  It’s upon us.  Booga, booga!

If Halloween has ever really NEEDED to be celebrated, the time is now.  We need to be spooked, and then we need to laugh and enjoy ourselves, if for no other reason than to remind ourselves that life can be a blasty, even when things get a little thick. 

So take the weekend off, dress up like something silly or terrifying (or, ideally, both) and have your fill of drinks at the Rhino.  Beer goes in, fear goes out.  Or at least that’s what my Grandpa used to say.  And the price is right, with half priced Happy Hour on Friday, 5-9.  For sure, the best Halloween Happy Hour deal in the city.  And the party goes on all night upstairs afterwards.

Not only that, but Nick and Matt are kicking off “Halloween in America” proper, tonight, upstairs.  Come see Nick in his red, white, and blue America onesie suit (amazing and tantalizing), and Matt in his American Grey Squirrel costume (see him satisfy his long-time desire to have a mood-indicating tail).

As if that weren’t enough, Saturday should be tons of fun too.  Ohio State game isn’t until the evening, so bring yourself and your costume for afternoon pre-gaming and a costume contest with lots of prizes, including a $1000 gift certificate to Rhino Bar.  I’m begging somebody who reads this to go all out and win that sucker, mainly so we can do chuggers with bottle upon bottle of Johnny Walker Blue, which is only $15 per shot.  Just remember to wear a costume that will inconspicuously conceal your scroner.

See you there!

Cheers!

-Finnegan

Halloween Tip: Don't puke in children's toilets.

This Week for Happy Hour: Smashing Pumpkin Cheesecakes

October 21^st is National Pumpkin Cheesecake Day, and Rhino is having a half-price Happy Hour to boycott the insidious foodstuff, Friday 5-9pm. 

There will be no pumpkin cheesecake allowed on the premises, keep in mind.  Let me explain…

I understand what the powers that be are trying to do here – promote a seasonal vegetable by piggybacking it atop the desert flagship, cheesecake.  If you’re in the pumpkin selling business, it’s not an all together terrible idea.  But here’s the thing: what they’ve really done is taken two independently delicious treats (pumpkin pie and cheesecake) and combined them to make a less-delicious holiday treat.  In the end, it amounts to counterproductivity for the sake of the holidays, and I don’t care for it one bit.

Do you see what I’m saying?  Some butt nugget corporate ad exec somewhere got hired by the U.S. association for pumpkin farmers, and thought: people love cheesecake, so let’s put some October pumpkin in it, and we’ll sell a bunch of Halloween Cheesecakes.

Two things: first, you already had pumpkin pie.  It’s better and has more pumpkins in it, so you’ve taken a step back already.  Second, of course everybody loves cheesecake.  That’s obvious and not creative advertising.  In fact, I propose a new project for this Happy Hour: to find somebody who doesn’t like cheesecake, and then kick the shit out of them for making the ad exec seem even possibly competent. 

Here’s what we’ll do.  We’ll stop a passerby outside of the door and I’ll say, “Hey, buddy, do you know anybody who doesn’t like cheesecake?”  And he’ll say, “Whuh- no!”  And then I’ll backhand him.  Pretty hard, the way you have to when you’re trying to get information out of somebody.  And then you’ll put your finger close to his face and say, “Don’t lie to us, you bastard.”  He’ll be terrified.  And then we’ll tie him to a chair and feed him peach schnapps (can water boarding be done with peach schnapps?) until he spills the beans, and we can continue on our witch hunt for somebody who doesn’t like cheesecake.   

We’ll probably end up with some misinformation from our peach schnapps torture techniques, and some poor guy who actually does like cheesecake will get his ass whooped, but hey, don’t blame me.  Blame pumpkin cheesecake.  That mess is a cheap shot.  Makes me want a half-price cocktail not involving pumpkin-cheesecake vodka.

See you Friday for half-price Happy Hour at the Rhino! 

P.S.  For the Rhino lovers who fear the big Rhino crowd during football season, keep in mind that Saturday and Sunday afternoons should be a little calmer than normal, with both Ohio State and the Eagles on bye weeks.  Show up and you too can enjoy the luxury of a bar stool while you power through your pint glass of Halloweenie-tini, or just beer.  

P.P.S.  We'll also have some special guests at Happy Hour on Friday: Kristin, who's been West-coasted for some time now and hasn't set foot in Rhino for far too long; and Kavitha, who may actually be coming through due to Georgetown Homecoming, but I'm going to choose to believe that last week's blog shamed her into a triumphant return to the white marble.

Cheers!

This Week for Happy Hour: This is Your Brain on Happy Hour

Twenty nine years ago today, on October 14^th, 1982, President Ronald Reagan announced the beginning of the “War on Drugs.”  Because that’s what we do with problems in America – we declare war on them.  Either that or we walk laps around a track for them.  But Ronald wasn’t about to change out of his loafers for a bunch of poor people and unruly youths smoking rocks.  So there it was, the War on Drugs, the immune system booster for our nation’s fundamental ailment.

But, of course, there were a couple inconsistencies in this War, and thank goodness for that.  For example, the War on Drugs carved out an exception so that you could continue to drink your drugs.  It was still Miller Time, just not Meth Time.  You could still put a little Captain in you, just not a little crack.  Indeed, “this Bud” could continue to be “for you.”  Let me tell you, you declare war on those Clydesdales and you can get the hell out of America, pal.  I once saw one kick a field goal.  Alcohol was kind of the Saudi Arabia of the more recent War on Terrorism.  It got a hall pass.

Then you had the commercials – the public service announcements that came out of the new War.  Remember those?  “This is your brain.  This is your brain on drugs.  Any questions?”  In the most famous commercial, your brain was a hot iron skillet and the drugs were an egg.  And then the drugs would fall onto your brain and your brain would kill all the dangerous salmonella in the drugs and turn it into a delicious breakfast.  Kind of a confusing message for your average kid if you ask me.

So today I’m offering an alternative, with the intention of making not only reference to the beginning of the War on Drugs, but also making sense.  I submit to you: This is Your Brain on Happy Hour.

This is my brain:

This is my brain on Happy Hour:

This is Sarah Palin’s brain:

This is Sarah Palin’s brain on Happy Hour:

This is Kavitha’s brain (in law school – tear, vom) - miss that girl, who needs a Happy Hour badly:

This is Kavitha’s brain on Happy Hour:

Brittany's brain in a world without Happy Hour:

Brittany's brain on Happy Hour:

Come see what your brain looks like at Happy Hour today, 5-9pm at Rhino!  Drinks and food are half price, then the party continues all night upstairs. 

Cheers!

This Week for Happy Hour: Death by Autotune

Come down to Rhino Bar for half-price drinks today for Happy Hour, 5-9pm, to celebrate the 26^th birthday of none other than T-Pain.  Yeah, you read that correctly.  I said T-Pain.  The autotune rapper guy.

 

This isn’t your average birthday party.  Most birthday partys exist to celebrate and honor the aging individual.  This birthday party, on the other hand, is really more to celebrate that the individual is aging.

Here’s the thing about T-Pain: he is a Grammy wining vocalist, and nobody knows what his voice sounds like.  That’s just tedious and annoying.  Plus, one time he came by Rhino with his entourage, but they were like, “Whey de club?” and then they went to Modern, next door, for the thumpy music.  Not a fan, my friends.  Perhaps they were thinking of the well-known Oscar Wilde quote, “If one hears bad music, it is one’s duty to drown it with one’s own conversation.”  Perhaps.

I know what you’re thinking: who are you to be so critical of the esteemed and highly decorated T-Pain?  After all, it’s like Jack Handy said, “Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes.”

Maybe you’re right.  Maybe I shouldn’t criticize the guy. 

Nope, you’re wrong.  I should.

First of all, the whole autotune thing is just embarrassing for hip hop in general, because that shit is soft.  Imagine Busta Rhymes or, even better, the late great Tupac or Biggie using autotune.  If they were still alive, either one would have the other shot for making shameful, sissy, autotuned music.

The only good thing to ever come from autotune is the Gregory Brothers and the would-be Lincoln Park rapist:

So never mind whether T-Pain can sing or not.  The autotune is the problem, airbrushing the music scene into a fraudulent, mechanized formula, and that dum-dum is promoting it.  All I’m asking for is some art that came from a person.  And for T-Pain and the Black Eyed Peas to be electrocuted by an autotune microphone malfunction.  Not to death.  But, you know, a good zinger. 

Anyhow, Captain Autotune is another year older.  And another year closer to retirement.  That calls for a zinger, which, by the way, are half-price for happy hour!  Come keep it real at the Rhino tonight.  Party continues upstairs until 2:30!

See you there!

This Week for Happy Hour: It's Gonna Be a Riot!

September 9^th, 1971: the four-day prison riot at Attica Correctional Facility in NY is set off after the death of a radical activist prisoner at San Quentin brings preexisting inmate discontent to a boil.

About 1000 of the prison’s 2200 inmates rioted and seized control of the prison, taking 33 staff hostages.  After four days of negotiations, Governor Rockefeller authorized the retaking of the prison by use of force.  Ten hostages and twenty nine inmates were killed.

There have been moments when I’ve wondered what would happen if Rhino’s patrons stormed the castle, jumping the bar, subduing the bartenders, and pouring drinks themselves.  It would be madness, and by virtue of sheer numbers, essentially impossible to prevent.  The bartenders would lose the dock.

But then I think, that would never happen.  Because if there is one big difference between Rhino Bar and Attica Prison, it’s that the Rhino inmates are at all times appeased.  Not that Rhino rioters (or, Rhioters) wouldn’t find out fast enough that the rows of poorly marked bottles don’t mix themselves into magically delicious combinations (except for whiskey and whiskey), but more importantly, a man with a beer in his hand and a smile on his face never rioted.  Not for realzy.

A riot, in the words of Dr. King, is the language of the unheard.  It’s an illustration of, simultaneously, frustration and discontent.  I swear all they needed to do at Attica was offer the boys some beer and an extra roll of toilet paper, and everybody would have started seeing eye to eye.  It’s like they never saw Shawshank Redemption in 1971 New York.  Oh, Andy.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but 2011 has sort of been the year of the riot.  Not in the US so much, but all across much of the Arab world and recently in the UK.  Well I think our time has come.  Here’s what’s gonna happen.  Get all liquored up at Friday Happy Hour and brainstorm for a reason to riot and decide on a general focal point.  Then everyone will head out and wreak general havoc, mob-style, all night long until Saturday morning.  Then everyone will run screaming back to Rhino Bar like a war scene from Bravheart for the Ohio State game, ready to start drinking again, at which point I will tell the following joke:

A man and a woman started to have sex in the middle of a dark forest. After about 15 minutes of it, the man finally gets up and says, "Damn, I wish I had a flashlight!" The woman says, "Me too, you've been eating grass for the past ten minutes!"

Then you’ll giggle and say, “Oh, Mr. Bartender, you’re a riot.”

And I’ll say, “No, you’re a fucking riot!”

Then Rhino will appease you with beers until the riot is gone from you. 

Come celebrate your pacified disposition at Rhino Bar with Half-Price Happy Hour, every Friday 5-9pm.  See you there!

Cheers,

Finnegan

Week 1 NFL Picks:

1. Green Bay vs. New Orleans: Under 48
2. Teaser: Arizona -1; Tennessee +8