This Week for Happy Hour: Driving While Batman

When you stop, do you then prefer to a) collaborate and listen, or b) Hammer time?

I suppose there’s a time and a place for each.  And each is a wholly viable option at Rhino Bar half-price happy hour, 5-9pm each and every Friday.  Hey, it’s America, do what you want after stopping. 

But today, March 30^th, the correct answer is b) Hammer time.  That’s because MC Hammer, known to his mother as Stanley Kirk Burrell, turns 50(!) today. 

He lost $30 million and his eyebrows.

Come down to Rhino today and enjoy cheap drinks, profoundly skillful bar tending, and resounding Happy Birthday cheers in honor of the Hammer.

Very strange, Hammer getting older.  But his legacy lives on across suburbia.

Which brings me to an otherwise unrelated but hilarious bit of local news.  Apparently Batman – yep, the superhero – was pulled over just miles from DC in Montgomery County, MD this week by the local 5-0.  Didn't even run a stop sign.  He was just minding his business.  Check it:

Chalk it up to another case of driving while Batman.  But the cops actually had a sense of humor about it, God love 'em.  And the best part is that the caped crusader’s name is Lenny.  Who knew?

See you at the white marble!

Cheers!

P.S. Stop:

 

This Week for Happy Hour: The Puppy Aphrodisiac

March 23^rd is National Puppy Day!  Half price drinks at Rhino for Happy Hour, 5-9pm to celebrate the majesty of cute puppies.  Oh that's right - I'm not afraid to say when a puppy is adorable.  Observe: 

Adorable

 

Probably a little annoying, but adorable.

Guilty of something.  But still just adorable.

Not sure everything is okay here, but adorable, regardless.

His seeds blow away and make dandelions.  Adorable.

Adorable.  Stud.

 

I’m sure you’ve heard stories and jokes about puppies being “chick magnets.”  And I’m sure you’ve heard the adage that there’s a little truth in every joke. 

Well let me tell you a secret: the joke about puppies and girls is solid gold truth. 

For whatever reason, girls love puppies.  They melt for the little fur balls.  You know that “Awww,” sound girls make when they see an adorable little doggy-woggy.  Some of you may have made that sound in the last 30 seconds.

But why does that happen?  I think it’s some kind of psychological loophole in the female brain that shortcuts right to the maternal/reproductive instinct.   And so somehow the presence of puppies subconsciously disarms girls’ sense of logic and skepticism when it comes to selecting a mate.

Consider this: everyone knows that dogs were bred from wolves.  But the kicker is that the ancestors of most domesticated dogs were selected for breeding because of the likeness of their characteristics to babies or little kids.  In that light, the Freudian puppy-sex subconscious loophole thing actually kind of makes sense.

Wrinkle-off, go!  You win again, you always do.

So now we’ve established that puppies make girls horny.  (You are a mysterious, intriguing species, female humans.)  And Rhino is having a puppy-themed happy hour, where drinks are half price?!  Oh lord.  The booze will only lower their inhibitions.  I can only imagine that the place will be filled with a bunch of puppy-crazed super horny girls trying not to slip on the stairs.  

Today, 5-9pm.  Party continues upstairs all night.  Bring your cleats.

See you there!

Cheers!

This Week for Happy Hour: The Zen Shamrock Abides

Oh, St. Paddy’s Day.   Welcome back, old friend.  Our favorite Irish high holy day of leprechaun worship and daytime drinking is upon us again.

First thing that comes to mind when you think St. Paddy’s Day – what is it?  Beer and whiskey, there you go.  You got it.  There are some other great components of the special day and culture as well, of course.  Smiley old guys with cloth hats and mustache-less beards, happy music, and silly dancing that inevitably involves, at some point, hopping on one leg (which gets pretty tough after a few pints, you’ll admit). 

But nobody thinks, “Oh, I just love a nice plain baked potato,” or, “What would I do without my itchy wool sweater.”  Those are the Irish elements we can all merrily forget.  But their simple existence adds something to the equation, no doubt.

I have a theory that, in Ireland, drinking heavily has always been integral because, let’s face it, it’s no tropical paradise, the food’s a little underwhelming, and until very recently, somebody else’s army was always marching in and causing trouble.  So where’d the attention of the hive mind turn?  The bottle, of course, if only peripherally. 

The one guy brought galoshes.  What a professional.

Have a pint and calm down, lad.  Everything's gonna be fine.  And pretty soon, that baked potato and the stew are looking all right.  Now we’re getting somewhere.  And next thing you know, you’re dancing your fanny off to the fun-timey fiddle music with a surprisingly good-looking lassie.  Presto change-o.

States-side, things are a little different.  We have good food, central heat and AC, most of us.  The music’s a good bit different too, and so is the dancing.  But everybody’s still got their problems.  We just do.  The inevitability of human drama, somebody called it.

St. Paddy’s Day reminds us to exercise the Irish way from time to time: to admire the Guinness bubbles and abide your troubles.  On St. Paddy’s, we to toast to what we love, enjoy the simple things, and put our problems in the trunk for the day.  Have a pint and calm down, lad.  Everything’s gonna be fine.  Smile, cheers, bottoms up.  It’s oddly Zen in its own way.

So come have a merry old time at Rhino this St. Paddy’s day weekend.  Toast with some friends and raise a glass to the Irish.  We’ve got no baked potatoes, though, sorry.  But remember?  Those things kind of suck.  Guinness and Jameson, on the other hand, overfloweth.

See you there!
Cheers!

This Week for Happy Hour: Webster's Mid-Life (Height) Crisis

Hey sunset drinkers!

Happy Happy-Hour again - it's Friday!  This week for Happy Hour we are celebrating another marvelous D-list celebrity birthday.  Somewhere, right now, a surprisingly attractive (and unsurprisingly trashy) girl with a birthday cake is bending down so that Emmanuel Lewis - that's right, the little guy who played Webster in the as-titled 1980's sitcom - can blow out his 40 birthday candles.  The little guy is 40.  Can you believe it?!  He's just adorable.

Los Angeles is so, so weird.

What do you think he'll wish for?  You have to believe that he's stopped wishing he was taller.  That sort of wish only comes true when you put a quarter in the spooky genie's mouth at the bayside carnival, anyway.  Just ask Tom Hanks.  In reality, turning 40 probably has wee Emmanuel realizing that, pretty soon, he'll start shrinking.  From 4'3".  Something tells me he'll age gracefully.

So come down to Rhino for Happy Hour, 5-9pm.  We'll sing happy birthday and make short-joke puns involving the terms "half" (priced) and "pint-sized" until they're funny, not funny, and then funny again.  Party goes on all night upstairs too.  The undergrads are all out of town this week for Spring Break, so there should be room at the bar, too.  If you find you're in desperate need of a high five, I got your back.

See you there!
Cheers!