I Hate...John McCain

Who does this guy think he's fooling picking Sarah Palin as his VP?

Im guessing this is how the convo went down...

McCain: "Oh no Barack keeps making history! Hes taking up all the History!.....How do I make history?!"

Sarah Palin: I have an idea!

McCain: Pipe down missy. Is Alaska even a state still?

After a night of hard drinking she must have softened him up. Classic Move.

Hacky

I Hate... Hula Hanks (Stamford, CT)

Ah Hula Hanks...

That crazy bar located in an alley behind all the decent Stamford bars that will eventually land on this blog as well...

The constant beat of bass maxed out to make you think people inside are there enjoying themselves...

The Caribbean theme that remains a novelty for all of 5 minutes...

Hula Hanks... I hate you.



If you're from this part of CT, this is probably a conversation you've had in the past year:

"Hey man, wanna go to Hula's tonight? We haven't been in a while."

"Hula's sucks bro/dude/man/guy. Everytime we go there it's the same thing and we hate it."

"Yea but this time might be different... maybe there will be some beautiful babies and their beautiful baby friends there..."

"Yea maybe, I guess it couldn't hurt to try."

5 minutes after entering the bar, you look back at this conversation and think to yourself "never again..."

At least until next year right? Do yourself a favor and don't get second-guess your instincts on this one folks.



Anyway, let me first say that any bar that requests a cover had better have a good band. Otherwise, what exactly are we paying for? The chance to get in and spend more money on drinks? I've budgeted $60 for the night... I'm going to spend it here one way or another - at least allow me to get drunk and attempt to enjoy this place. And no, I don't want a hopper pass - that place sucks just as much as here (You're next Thirsty Turtle).

Next, as a man, I know if the bartender is male, the attractive girl next to me at the bar is going to get served first. I'm well aware and would probably do the same thing. Seriously though, I think 20 minutes to wait for a drink is a little bit ridiculous, don't you? "Dude, you're probably not going to bang this chick tonight, so can I please have a Bud Light? I'll even come back and open it myself, I don't care, I'd just like a drink. No? Ok, let me know tomorrow if you took her home."

"Alright, Black Bear it is, I hope that place isn't packed tonight."

50 Steps Later...

"Ah Fuck. I'm going home. You win again, Stamford... You always do"

-Chase
Professional Hater

I Hate...Tiernans (Stamford, CT)

Never fails...
We walk in and the fucking coverband starts to play "Dont Stop Believin". Every fucking time. I'm convinced that you NEED to learn that song in order to graduate COVERBAND UNIVERSITY.

So you want to be a coverband? Gimme your best "Don't Stop Believin".

I love Journey...I now hate that song.

Eyebrows

The long and short of it:
Tiernans is always packed to the brim. Good for them. But lets not forget we are in the heart on MANford CT, so when i say "packed" what I really mean is that its like being inside a steamed packet of Ballpark Franks. I can almost taste the sweat of every "bro" that pushes me out of the way to get to the bar.

Not 5 minutes after our entry into the bar I am pushed by this bushy eyebrowed chump in a button down. Now, I fully acknowledge that on most days I deserve to be pushed around, but rest assured, tonight, i did nothing. I look the dick in the face and say, "What the fuck are you doing?" He says nothing and continues to mack on two girls that can only be described as "Classic Dirt Filths" or simply "CDFs"

Not two minutes later, my friend and I are at the bar ordering dranks when we are violently jolted by Eyebrows and his band of merry men SCREAMING the lyrics to "Welcome to the Jungle" (another sweaty coverband classic) in our faces. This will not stand. We turn around to inquire about this kid's problem again, after which he turns and points to his friend and says something to the effect of "Oh you wanna fight this kid?!?"

Utterly confused, we walk away.

(note to self: My wish is to have this blog become so popular that one day EyeBrows reads it and realizes how much of a sizzling ass-master he is.)

Cougars

Moving on, I'm two whiskeys deep in conversation with my homey Jeff. After a few minutes of talking about how Jeff tried to teach his mother the "flying knee" as a matter of self defense, we are approached by a cougar and a CIT (cougar in training).

Cougar: I heard you guys say MOTHER...are you making fun of me?!

Me: No we were trying to teach his mother how to fight.

Cougar: (drunk and disoriented) I like that T-Shirt! Its Cool!

Me: I know what you're doing...

Cougar: Huh?

Me: You're trying to hit on us. Its cool. (mimicking) "Ooooo look at the cool teeshirt!". I've seen it 1000 times.

Cougar: You know I design t-shirts. (blah blah blah bullshit about starting her own buissiness). So watch out for my website!

Me: Ok lady, sell me. Why would I wanna buy your shit?

Cougar: (thinks for 40 to 45 seconds)...cuz they are awesome...and cool to wear.

Me: Thats a horrible sales pitch...you can do better than that.

Im sure she said something else but I stopped paying attention. Plus she got pretty pissed at Jeff after he rested his arm on her head.


Potential Ass Kicking #2

After a few shots and 4 or 5 beers, it's safe to say that Jeff was a little tipsy. All I remember is the bouncer walking up behind Jeff and looking puzzled because Jeff refused to move out of his way. The guy wasn't just confused. He was baffled to say the least. As if to say "Look at these triceps?! Why is this guy still in my way?!". The following is what i remember of their short but entertaining interaction...

Bouncer: When you see me coming...you get OUT of my way!

Jeff: (complete with shit eating grin) I'M THE CUSTOMER....SO YOU CAN GET OUT OF MY WAY!

Me: (puts hand out between the two) Please don't kill him.

He walked away...Jeff is still alive...everybody wins.

Fucking Dance

Next, we took it upon ourselves to befriend two women standing alone near the back wall of the bar, having been abandoned by their men.

Me: Didn't you two come here with dudes? Why arent you dancing?

Wall flower Sisters: Oh..hahaha...they aren't drunk enough yet. (point to the bar)

Their men were laughing it up at the bar as if it was boys night out. Now, I dont know anything about these women. They could have been horrid, nagging bitches... but they seemed nice enough. So, I felt bad for them.

Deciding our work was done for the night, we start to leave the bar. As we walked out, I glanced over towards the two women hoping that they would be with their men...dancing in a jubilant fashion. To my dismay, they were still all alone near the wall. At first, I was genuinely sad about this. I couldn't help by think, "Why would anyone stay in a relationship with someone who treats you like a winter coat, leaving you in a corner until the end of the night?" Have some respect for yourself...dance if you want to.

I mutter to myself: "nice fucking life"

and walk out.

My advice for this week: Dance

Hacky

I Hate...People Who Talk in Movies

After tonight i have seen "BatMan: The Dark Night" twice. When i was headed into the theater tonight i knew what was going to happen. I knew every twist and turn in the film and i went back to enjoy it in all of its twisted glory for a second time. If the night had gone as it should have...im sure i would have done just that.

There where roughly 7 teenagers in the front and to the left and 1 woman behind me who were all hell bent on ruining a perfectly good, movie-going experience for your humble blogger. For the sake of my wrists (and my bed time) lets leave the woman behind me out of this one. She was an idiot...it wasn't her fault.

Lets turn our attention now to the children in the front and to the left. Once again, for the sake of "easy identification" lets call them..."the motherfuckers" or simply "the MFs". I have a few questions id like to pose to the MFs if i may.

1. Why go to a movie if you are going to try to impress girls by talking and being rude? Why not just turn the lights off in your asbestos filled basements and jabber away there? I AM POSITIVE your parents wont care because they obviously didnt take the time to teach you any manors in the first place. What right would they have to be upset with you?

2. Why waste $15 of your parent's money? ($10 for the ticket itself and at least $5 in gas to pick you up) This money could be more constructivly spent in 2 ways:
a. To save up for a school that may some day teach you to read. thereby enabling you to decode the funny shapes on the screen BEFORE the moviewhich state "Do not Speak"
b. to feed your father's nasty prostitution habit.
(Option B is just my speculation...but i have a funny feeling)

3. Everytime i hear you speak i get angry. When i get angry i piss in peoples beds...i could give you a list of people's numbers to call who will back me up on this one. Why would you wish a "Soppy Slumber" upon you and your loved ones?

And the most important question of the night...

4. DO YOU REALIZE THAT THE LIGHTS GO BACK ON AFTER THE FUCKING MOVIE?
You MUST! Please tell me you are not that stupid. What happens now is, EVERYONE who has been thinking up different and undoubtedly creative ways to cause you pain for the past 2.5 hours can now see EXACTLY what you look like.

You dumb MotherFuckers.


welp...i feel better. See you at the bars this weekend...oh wait...you're fucking 13.

Hacky

I Hate... Twenty (Stamford, CT)

You know, that weird diner/bar in Downtown Stamford - red awning, uninviting look, new name every other week - you know the place...

We decided to go in a few weeks ago, but wait, none of my friends are 25 yet. Sorry, we're not allowed to come into this "trendy NYC style bar with $10 drinks". Hmmm, seems to me Stamford needs more places where 25+ people go to hang out and be assholes to everyone they meet. Thanks Twenty.

By the way, nice niche you've carved out for yourself there, I'll be sure to check you out when you are under new management next week.

-Chase
"HeHateBars"

I Hate... the F.O.E Club (Stamford, CT)

It all started with a little lite reading.

We stumbled upon an entertaining blog by the name of "Blog Stamford". These guys tackel everything from bar to art to your mother. Needless to say, we were hooked. The article that captured our attention (and our hearts) is as follows:

This article sparked and idea, which sparked a trip, which sparked a story, which sparked this website. Read BLOG STAMFORD's article then read our story below.

Chase said...

So, having read this blog on the FOE club, my friends and I decided that last night was the night to check this place out. One of our roommates is leaving us for a better life with his girlfriend and we figured it would be our last night that we would see him - why not check out this creepy, haunted house like structure in the middle of downtown Stamford

Well, I'll tell you why... Not only did we have to ring a bell to enter the bar and sign in to be served, we were also given a "tour" of the joint. (Side note: the 2nd floor is condemned, more on that later).

After receiving said "tour" we were immediately hit up for a beer by our guide. Sure, why not give this man blowing smoke in our faces $3 - he seems nice enough.

After 10 minutes of ranting on the economy and other problems with America, our guide offered to show us the condemned section of the place upstairs... um, no thanks. As this was not an option, he then decided to show us the "pieces of flair" that he had added to the building - an old cow skull and a barometer. Creepy and useful, all at the same time.

After 20 minutes of this and 1 game of darts that ended all too abruptly - we decided it was time to leave and leave fast. We then rescued our friend entertaining the crazy hippie's rant with a scared look on his face and went on our way.

Never. Again.

If you ever drive by this place and wonder as we did "hmm, I wonder what that place is like?", do yourself a favor and keep driving. If this will not suffice, a mere glance inside the building should give you the general idea of creepiness of this joint.

Also, now that we've been to ALL of Manford's bars, it is now official that this city is completely devoid of attractive, down to earth girls with any sort of personality.

Bitter? Yes. Getting laid? No.

NYC here I come.

August 1, 2008 9:43 AM

Hacky said...

Id like to elaborate on the ending of the dart game if i may:

With a 7and7 in one hand, 2 darts in the other, a shady hippie to my back, and petrified friends to his front I decided to make a bold move and press the "Double Bull's Eye" button with all of my mite as fast as i could. As if this button held a key to the outside...as if this button acted as a silent but effective fire alarm...as if the button would somehow beckon the hand of God himself to lift us gently out of Beelzebub's Grasp.

I may have forfeited the game (and an hour of my life), but i got to see the morning after.

August 1, 2008 10:18 AM