The Hot Rod Unloads: What kind of world are we living in?

From the Juiced-box, for a reflective mood: 

Hi gang! Your semi-irregular tipple-toaster here, settling in at the end of this poorly lit Bar (seriously Al, ever heard of fluorescent lighting?) to castigate and castrate all the news, views and opinion of the last few weeks of… well, news. You’ll have to forgive my drunken rambling, thanks to Al allowing me such a large tab here at the Bar, but there’s a few things that’ve caught my eye over the last little while I just need to vent on. And when I say “vent”, I mean pull out the long forgotten soapbox here behind the Bar and stand on that fucker. Given the Bar None’s recent Dry Zone policy means I not longer filter the horrors of being human through a haze of Johnny Walker or Galiano, it’s brought things into sharp focus… hence the title of this post.

The worlds biggest chicken house?

Is it just me, or has the world gone a little more shitty than normal in the last month or so? America’s teetering on the brink of financial collapse, while a couple of dozen half-wits in Washington play a massive game of chicken with each other, and the rest of the world watches on wondering if the wall-to-wall coverage of impending catastrophe (really, America goes into financial meltdown…. would anybody else care?) is just a beat-up or actually factual. All of this makes the rest of the world wonder if America truly is the greatest nation on Earth. I tell you what, if they do go down, they’re putting up a fight. Debt ceiling? Really?

Bet you wish you'd gone to rehab now, eh?

Singer-songwriter-drugfucked alcoholic Amy Winehouse plays her last gig in a haze of booze, and then bows out in glorious, tabloid-fodder style, for which now we can look forward to decades of “unearthed new material” much like frickin’ Tu Pac or whatever that dudes name was who got shot, died, and then released a dozen albums of new material like he was saving shit up for a rainy day. Christ, they’re gonna hammer this crap until they’ve remixed, remastered and re-released the shit out of her back catalogue, unearthed some unfinished songs and added guest stars like Bono, Bob Geldof and fucking Bill Idol to make some weird “duets” style thing like they did with Sinatra. And we don’t even get any new trashy photos to counteract this oncoming Winehouse storm. Don’t get me wrong: she was an awesome singer, but every dick with a blog and an opinion seems to think she’s a tragic loss to the world. As a songstress, perhaps. As a person? Well, there’s a hundred LiLo wannabes waiting in the wings.

Jackie Chan should make a movie with THIS guy!!

Then there’s the cop in the UK who, after being hit by a fucking car, gets up and chases down the bitchslapper who sideswiped him. Don’t believe me? Watch this. Now that, my friends, is the very definition of TOUGH. Unless he’s a Transformer. In which case, Optimus Prime would upfuck his shitup.

I can hear my own sperm swimming around down there!

Also over in the UK, is a man who can hear his eyeballs moving. No joke (apparently), this dude suffers from some sort of weird scientific problem which means the noises inside his body are louder than those outside – he can literally hear his internal workings going on. You know that old phrase about “not being able to hear yourself think”? Well, this man’s got that problem licked. Makes you wonder if he confuses his farts with thunder.

In a few moments, there will be tears!

Far and away the most disturbing news of the week, though, at least not related to the US financial crisis, is this report about underage kids drinking to excess in the US. What’s most troubling to me is that the people drinking to excess aren’t even old enough for their balls to drop or their boobs to fill out – kids as young as 12 are getting blind drunk every weekend or so, and not only that, but also sitting back with a bit of pot to go with it. What. The. Fuck. This article/report almost speaks for itself in the question which would immediately form on most peoples lips: who’s buying these kids their booze? What’s scary is that I’ve no doubt whatsoever that this kind of thing is happening all around the world as well; Australia’s no exception to the youthfully drunk, and it’s a major, major social problem.

Will she blow? Will she?

The space shuttle returned to Earth after its last trip to the most expensive hang-out in the world (or, above it…) and the world paused for about, oh, three minutes to reflect on all the Shuttle Program brought us. Can anybody name the astronauts on that last shuttle? Without Googling it? Nope, neither can I. The fact that everyone’s lost interest in the Shuttle missions was probably the biggest factor in deciding to give it up. I mean, unless you’re going to the moon, or sending people to Mars, the whole thing just wasn’t exciting any more. So they packed up, sent the smart dudes home to their parents, and gave the private sector a mission to “capture the flag” – Richard Branson must be near-orgasmic with glee that now he’s got an excuse to burn up billions of dollars in research and development to send some poor sap up there.

Unspeakable tragedy.... impossible sorrow.

Almost overshadowing the news of Amy Winehouse’s death the other weekend was the news that some utter fuck-knuckle in Norway decided he’d had enough of behaving himself and went and a) blew up some shit, and b) shot a bunch of innocent kids at a political camp. What the news services couldn’t get over, though, was how White Anglo Saxon this dude looked – I mean, he wasn’t Muslim, wasn’t any kind of ethnic minority they could easily pigeonhole, and when pressed for his reasons, expressed himself in an articulate and deliberate manner. Sure, he’s a deranged psycho, but he didn’t go out with a bullet to the skull or blowing himself to whatever God he believes in (or doesn’t) with a few pounds of TNT. Goddamit, this guy seemed, on the outside, to be one of us. Which is scary. He had the self-belief to stay alive and hand himself into the police when they arrived on that island. No last-stand suicide, no blaze of glory run-at-the-cops-and-get-mown-down-in-slo-mo stuff. Personally, I don’t even think that fucker deserves to breath the same oxygen as we do – take him out the back, shoot him in the head and bury his corpse in some landfill somewhere, and forget about him. No trial, no fucking circus, just death and that’s it. I’m not a believer in the death penalty, but in this case, no amount of incarceration is ever going to do this stain justice.

BAM! Your'e owned!

The UK reeled after Sauron himself, along with his son Little Johnny Packer, wheeled himself into British Parliament to answer questions about the massive phone hacking scandal, and ended up being smacked with a foam pie by some “comedian” fellow. Rupert Murdoch might be a control freak undead walking corpse, but he didn’t need that. T’was funny as hell, though. In other news, I’m glad the wankers behind that phone hacking crap are getting taken to task about it all. Seriously, who thinks tapping into peoples phones is a good idea? There’s no justification at all for that, and those slimy dickheads thought deleting a few messages on some poor dead girls phone would be a good laff as well. Man, I’d skip the lawsuits and go hire an assassin, if I was one of the victims.

Just how much longer can this all last?

All this makes me ask the Big Question of the Week. What kind of world are we living in? Is it just me, or is shit getting worse? Perhaps those nutjobs gabbing on about the Mayan calendar ending in 2012 are on to something? Boy, I can’t wait until humanity enters some kind of Star Trek styled utopia and all crime is eliminated, or Roland Emmerich gets to actually destroy the world for real. I’m sure he’d love it.

Now, send down another bottle of Scotch, Al. I’m done for today!

Hot Rod is a guest writer here at The Bar None, but you can catch his more serious side over at his movie blog, Fernby Films.

Celeb Mug Shot: Paz de la Huerta

Click on the Shot for the Wallpaper

Here’s a shot straight from the juiced-box and dedicated to Paz de la Huerta: Cat Power – Lived in Bars

[Press ‘Play’ for Musical Bars]

What’s more fun than talking about Paz de la Huerta’s lopsided boobs with a cute Australian after seeing Limits of Control? Nothing. But maybe what follows comes a little close.

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Booze Revooze: A Drinker’s Skewed View of HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS: PART 2

[Click here for a guide to Booze Revooze and the rating system used]

From the juiced-box and not the soundtrack: Marilyn Manson – I Put A Spell On You

i got bragging rights again. Harry Potter and the Deathly Shallows: Part 2 came out in Yeaman on Wednesday the 13th of July and i got to see it on the morning of the 14th, one full day before most of y’all. Don’t be too jealous, though, read on to see why…

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Celeb Dregs: Lindsay Lohan is FREE (and still Cheap!)

It’s true you haven’t heard much from me lately about the Bar None’s Bar Nun and much of that’s because In The Same Boat talked about how he ran into her at a party (because he’s all the time hobbing his knob with the upper crusties) and she was a real prima donna bitch.

You know me (and if you don’t you oughta get your shots while they last), i’m a really super forgiving guy and i can overlook every kind of default like being a hot fire crotch who loves to party. But one thing that straightens my bender are people who think they’re better than me. Just because she starred in a Love Bug remake and was arrested for covering Stevie Nicks’ Edge of Seventeen doesn’t make her shit any hotter than mine.

[Oops, my bad, i just found out the crime she was arrested for had to do with drinking and drugs. Still, have you heard her “Edge of Seventeen”? You came to the right place, i put it at the end of this bad boy. To get your whistle all wet, here’s her singing an “original”, “I Wanna Be Bad”.]

[Press ‘Play’ to hear Lindsay get her wish]

On June 29, 2011 Lindsay Lohan was able to go home after being released from her…home. Your chance to go to her place and tell her that her home cooking tastes like prison food is officially over. Too bad you didn’t do that on June 13, when the Bar Nun had a party and got her petite wrist slapped for having a Girl’s Prison Party, which, ironically, is also my favorite movie of 1974.

Lindsay and the Lo-Los

So Close to a Moment It's Criminal

Yet the powers that bleed (and if you know what that means, please explain it in a comment below because i’m as lost as virginity at a frat kegger in Cancun) did not want her to suffer the punishment of being grounded any longer. Another point in 190 proof is that she set off her alcohol alarms all over the place with her ankle jewelry ballin’ chain and the judge tried to throw the book at her but she was so damn squirmy that she wrangled out of that hold and ran for the freedom line.

So, let’s have a Lindsay Lohan is Free and Cheap Party. Here are the tunes…

…and i’ve got just the drink.

When You’re Rich Enough to Drink the Very Best…

drink it, and not this shit. Luxor, so tacky it’s named after a Vegas hotel, decided to add another bling to “bling bling” and came out with Bling Bling Bling Champagne.

Which looks something like this.

Is That Dirt?

Guess what. It’s not dirt. Look again…

No, it’s not dust… Once more.

Yes! 24 karat gold flakes you can drink, but don’t worry, it still tastes like shit. At least it’s overpriced, only $253 a pop. Emphasis on “Pop”.

Just when you thought you couldn’t find a kitscher way to brighten up the trailer.

Bar None Dregs

A drink to sobriety… Let’s hear it for Bats, my dear friend over at The She Chronicles, who just celebrated 2 years without a drink. Well, she had stuff to drink, it’s not like she went 2 years without any liquid whatsoever or else i’d have bumped this part up a little bit on the page. Still, 2 years without alcohol, 2 fucking years, is an incredible feat and i want to congratulate her for hanging in there and thank her for her support of me and the Bar None.

Next up, i just hit 6 months sober last Monday. i won’t babble on too much about this, i’d just like to say that AA has been an amazing experience and i’m grateful for all the support i’ve gotten in the rooms and from y’all here in this room. To congratulate myself, you may have noticed i changed the header from “Diary-a of a Chronicle Drinker” to “The Bar None–High and Dry”. You know, because i’m dry and still acting like i’m high.

Wrapping this up is a little reminder that Saint Pauly over at WTF!? (Watch the Film) has just posted a new thingy about The Tranformers movie. The first one.

Didn’t get your fill of the dregs? i keep them on tap right here.

John Galliano: All The Rage

Fashion Is Not Pretty

Here’s a song from the juiced-box to remind John Galliano: David Bowie – Fashion

[Press ‘Play’ for something always in Fashion]

He’s Named after the John because of His Potty Mouth

There’s this town in Europe called Paris where everybody who’s anybody wants to make a scene or be scene. Fashion Freak John Galliano is no exception so he decided the best way to get noticed was to get drunk at a Café (French for “cafe”) and hurl racial and anti-Semitic slurs at innocent by sitters who were egging him on with their faces.

G-Strung was drunk at a place called Le Perle and started going at a Jewish woman, telling her she had a “dirty Jewish face” and then insulted her her friend by calling him a “fucking Asian bastard”. (In his defense, Galliano did not use any anti-Semitic insults on the Asian guy.) After the couple reported this to the authorities, another person came out with a home movie of Galliano insulting them at the same cafe, back in December 2010.

[If you want to see the vid, you can check out my Facebook page…and why not Friend me while you’re there?]

John Galliano "Mug" Shot

The Best Offense is a Bad Defense

Galliano’s trial for racism, which is apparently against the law in Paris, started on the 22nd of June and during the trial he came out with his self defense strategy: Blame it on the Booze. Instead of manning up—or at least queen-ing up—the grand designer said he could’t remember what he did or said and explained to the court that he had 3 addictions linked to being an overworked genius. 1) Alcohol, 2) valium, 3) sleeping pills.

i’m hoping this defense works because i’d love to see this case set a precedent. “Sorry, your honor, I sat on top of the tower and sniped 50 people because I was drunk. Won’t happen again, Scout’s honor.” They’re gonna call it Pleading Inebriatition. Here it is in a sentence: “Well judge, I know I was arrested for drunk driving and I had a BAC of 90% but you see, I was drunk at the time. So I plead Not Guilty by Reason of Innebriation.”

These are the Bar None’s artist’s hallucinations of Galliano:

Adolph Galliano

The Devil Wears Galliano

Galliano Gets A Tattoo

The Backlash Gets Hotter

"WTF did you just say?"

Nathalie Portman, world famous Jewish person who acts too, saw the video i linked up there and called Galliano out and a whole lot of other things a lot worse. That she’d made a big deal was a big deal because she’s just made a big deal with Dior, the company G draws clothes pictures for. So Dior told G to get the fuck out, which i totally get because Galliano is at worst a racist but at best a flaming prick asshole. An even better reason is that Nathalie Portman stayed with Dior and so could grace our computer screens with images like this.

Galliano Stinks

But who else? The Bar None favorite, Taylor Momsen (shhh, don’t tell Miss Demeanor i’m talking about her again) also hooked up with Galliano in the sense she did some posters to promote his perfume which is called Parlez-Moi d’Aryans  Amour.

Taylor let me down a bit by not coming out against Galliano. Sure, the campaign was a while back and pro’lly no one thought she was intelligent enough to have an opinion, but i think she should of proved everyone stupid by coming out right away and saying something smart. Or at least something cool.

The Little Dictator and Taylor Mum-sen

[AlKHallism: There’s some more shots of hot fashionards in my drawers right down there.]

All of this to make my sobriety more palatable for you, because here’s the…

Immoral of the Story

Man, the view is nice from up here on my pedestal but the height is making me a little sick. Rather than stomach sneezing on all you little people down there, i thought i’d share something from my past to show i’m not as high and mighty as i make myself out to be.

i understand that there’s a chance that Galliano isn’t a racist. He maybe said what he did to shake things up  a bit. Don’t get me wrong, i’m not condoning idiocy (though i often play one at home) or excusing his behavior. Just because he did it for attention doesn’t mean it or he is ok. If your go-to rant for the crowd is based on hatred then you gotta got to a new go-to place.

While i don’t understand where this came from i do understand why this came up. i said some pretty ridiculous shit to stand out from the crowd back in the day and it was usually linked to the drink.

You pro’lly won’t believe this about me, but i have a dry sense of humor that can be caustic at times. No, really. Swear to god. When i’m sober i know where the line is, i walk right up to it and even piss over it sometimes, but i never cross it. When i’m drunk i fall over the line and stumble past it. It’s not that i don’t see the line, i just fucking forget there’s lines at all.

Another thing that’s hard to believe but this time for real, is that i’ve only been thrown out for life from one bar. It’s a Scottish Pub here in Yeaman and i was already totally shitfaced when i arrived. The bar was huge busy and i was single and drunk and there was this cute blonde barmaid tending to the barhounds. Wanting to stand out from the masses, i ordered my drinks and said something unusual.

i don’t remember what it was. This gap in my memory is probably a good thing because whatever i’d said freaked the barmaid out so much that she cried (if memory serves as well as she did) and the owner of the bar told the Irish guy who’d carried me in to take me out and never let me back in. I was banned for life.

Like i already said, i don’t remember what i said that night. So i can see how Galliano could forget his verbal diarrhea but this doesn’t mean his mouth shouldn’t get washed out with soap. i feel so guilty about whatever it was i said, i own up to it and accept responsibility for it. i was a dick and deserve to be beaten.

Alls i can do now is to try and be better sober than i was drunk. Which, thank god, is easy because i really hate doing shit that’s too hard.

What about y’all? Anyone say anything drunk they regretted when they were sober? Say it now in the Comments section and let it go, Barmaids and Beerhounds. Let it go.

Bar None Dregs

Saint Pauly has graced us all with another WTF!? (Watch The Film) movie review. This time it’s of Push. It’s worth a look and is pro’lly funny if you’re a little drunk.

Bar None Drawers

Raging Bullshit

The Mad Hater

Sasha Pivovarova as John Galliano: a role Model

Galliano is so Transparent

Navels are still the New Nipples

John Galliano Being Turned Down at the Bar None

Didn’t get your fill of the dregs? i keep them on tap right here.

Celeb Mug Shot: Estella Warren

Click on the Shot for the Wallpaper

Here’s a song straight from the juiced-box and dedicated to Estella Warren: Drive by Truckers – Women Without Whiskey

[Press ‘Play’ for Trailer Park Rock]

Warren Peace

My first thought when i heard that Estella Warren was arrested for drunk driving was, “Who the hell is Estella Warren?” Closely followed by my second thought, which was, “i hope she’s hot.” Judging from the above collage, i think you’ll agree that i had happy pants upon learning she is an actress/model, or, as we call them here in the Bar None, Role Model.

[If you want to see her acting assets, you can check out my Facebook page…and why not Friend me while you’re there?]

Estella Warren "Mug Shot"

So, the international star of Jack the Kangaroo —and how the Oscars could miss her doing that to a Kangaroo, i’ll never know—hit three cars driving home the other night. The neighbors heard the racket and chased her down until she got out of her car and screamed that they were all trying to steal her shit. Someone called the cops and she started bitch slapping one guy to pass the time until the cops arrived.

Too drunk to study, she failed her sobriety test and started kicking one of the officers to punish him for putting handcuffs on her. The cop failed his field arrest test, though, because back at the hoosegow Warren Remembrance slipped like a nipple from her confinement and ran away. But not too far because she got caught like and STD and arrested again.

For her second DUI (the first was 2007), the lucky wench got four Miss Demeanors while i still only have the one.

[AlKHallism: There’s some more shots of her in my drawers right down there.]

Immoral of the Story

Man, the view is nice from up here on my pedestal but the height is making me a little sick. Rather than stomach sneezing on all you little people down there, i thought i’d share something from my past to show i’m not as high and mighty as i make myself out to be.

One of the reasons i started this blog was, i told myself a couple years ago, to talk about my drinking and make this a forum for drunks and drinkers, those who want to stop being either and those who love them. Well, this is me living up to that.

Hell, Estella, i'm no angel either.

i graduated from University back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and just after that i was so obsessed with this beautiful girl that i didn’t notice she had Dumbo ears. She led me on as only a pretty girl who realizes you can’t see her defaults knows how to do, and part of this back and forth was a back and forth because she lived in a University town 1 ½ hours from where i lived. i’d regularly drive up to her place to let her abuse me on weekends where she’d give me just enough to make me want some more but nothing of any consistency (which, thinking about it, is a lot like alcoholism).

We’d hang out in the sports bar where she waited tables and i was included in the inner crowd who would drink free beer with the owner after closing time, my cute addiction sitting on my lap but refusing to kiss me before i’d go back to her place where we’d snuggle on her sofa before she left me for the comfort of her double bed.

One winter’s night, i was in my home town getting drunk with friends watching my alma mater get trashed in a championship basketball game. Even more trashed than my team, i had a sudden craving for Honey Whine. i hopped in my car, hit the highway and began the long drive north.

Estalla Warren and Al K Hall Road Trip (Guess Who's Who)

Halfway into the trip (the car one), i fell asleep at the wheel and drove straight into a guardrail going about 60mph—for those of you who work on the metric system, this corresponds to “really fucking fast”. i remember waking up seconds before and seeing the grey metal rush at me.

i bounced off the windshield hard enough to crack it. The engine was still running until my trembling leg slipped off the accelerator. The next thing i remember is tying the hood down with my jean jacket somehow and driving to the nearest exit where there was an all night truck stop and i bought some bungee cords to lash down my hood.

i finished the drive but instead of going to Honey Whine’s, i drove to my best friend’s place (who attended the same school). Driving into his parking lot, i nearly drove into a ditch because i fell asleep again.

So yeah, i’m not perfecter than Warren, s’what i’m saying.

What about y’all? Anyone have any drunk driving stories you’d like to share? That’s what the Comments Section is for, you know.

Bar None Dregs

Saint Pauly has graced us all with another WTF!? (Watch The Film) movie review. This time it’s of The Fighter. It’s worth a look and is pro’lly funny if you’re a little drunk.

A special shout out to Ganjicu and Super8wentzville (you know who you are, ’cause i sure as hell don’t) for subscribing to this Diary-a of a Chronicle (Non) Drinker. Welcome to the Bar None, don’t be shy and thanks for patronizing me.

Bar None Drawers

Estella Warren (32)

Didn’t get your fill of the dregs? i keep them on tap right here.


Before we got down to the dirty, let me drop this plate from the juiced-box on ya: Mark Lanegan – Morning Glory Wine

[Press ‘Play’ for the coolest thing you’ll hear today]

A couple weeks ago, President Barack Obama took his show on the road and his first stop was Ireland. ‘Cause apparently his ancestors are Irish and now I finally understand why they say “Black Irish”.

You and i both know another reason he went there was for the beer and if you don’t know what i’m on about, shame on you because i was all over that shit ages ago. For example, how come you didn’t read about Why the Nobels Chose Obama which i wrote way back in October 2009?! And there’s no excuse for not reading the very recent Obama Beer Laden and, in fact, i’m kinda pissed off because you’re lack of reading it meant no one launched a fatwad on me and i was kinda looking forward to that.

Anyway, i’m thinking Obama wanted to start off his tour with a free beer. This is why it’s called a “round” trip: he’s on a trip and it’s always someone else’s round. Here’s the photographic evidence of that.

Obama is not a beerholic. Probably not. But this doesn’t mean we don’t exist.

People are always saying they’re gonna stop drinking the hard stuff and only partake of beer or wine like that isn’t alcohol. i’m beer to tell you, Barmaids and Beerhounds, it’s entirely possible and i’m nearly not living proof. Emphasis on Proof.

Wine was my drunk of choice for ages because it packed a 13% punch, cost about 3 bucks a bottle and 1 bottle was the perfect buzz. Two bottles was a good drunk and after 4 bottles was some of the best near death experiences i ever had if i could only remember them. Wine was easy to plan, ‘swhat i’m saying. Wine was faithful. i always knew where i stood with wine and that was right by her side.

Beer was different. i never liked the taste of beer and it always made me feel full and i had to drink a lot to get someplace else but that was also the upside, Chuck. Because i drank faster than a hole, liquor knocked me out quicker but beer helped me draw the night out and plus i got to piss like every ten minutes. Self-regulating, yo.

I'll Drink to That

All’s i’m sayin’ is i don’t believe the hype. Scientific studies (that i conducted in my living room watching TV) have proven the alcohol in beer and wine is the exact same alcohol in evil spirits.

If you’re gonna drink, may god be with you and not take you to the places i let the booze take me. If you choose not to drink: beer and wine count as alcohol, babes.

Bar None Dregs

In other news, i’ve been busy lately with writing projects and other blogs and going to AA meetings. Speaking of, i hit 5 months sober last Saturday. Also, thanks to Bats for stopping by to check in on me. i’m doing well, babe, ‘preciate your asking.

Linked to that [get it, linked to that? Don’t worry, you will right now], i started a new blog for movie reviews called WTF!? (Watch the Film). i basically take notes while watching a movie and post the notes and try to be funny. i created another persona to head the blog—his name is Saint Pauly and we’ll pretend he’s someone else but anyone reading this far is a regular and i got no secrets from y’all. Please feel free to Visit WTF!? (Watch The Film) and especially please leave a comment while i try to get it off the ground. Thanks!