From the Emergency Barfcast System….

This is the Bar None’s Emergency Barfcast System. If you’re hearing this now, it means I no longer have the capacity to run the Bar to the quality you all think you deserve. Therefore, I have instigated the bar-tacular secondary drunk-making device, and his name is Rodney. He has been fully trained in the art of pouring y’all a beer or three, so saddle up and enjoy a drink with him while I’m not here to do so myself.”

You know how you go to a bar and your favourite beer wench ain’t behind the counter any more? Imagine this kind of thing happening at The Bar None…. okay, stop imagining it coz it’s finally happened.

By now, all the regular patronisers of the Bar None will be aware of the fact that recently, our superstar barkeep has been out of the office for a variety of personal reasons, and as the most frustrated of all Al’s customers with being unable to get a beer ’round here, I’ve decided to say “Screw it, I’m gonna pour the drinks for a while.” So…. I’m gonna pour the drinks for a while, in Al’s absence. You cheapskates won’t be getting ’em for nothing, though, so pony up the cash, my friends, as we continue our drunken revelry well into the night tonight.

 

Rodney preparing for a night at The Bar None...

First, a little about me, Rodney, your guest Barkeep for the duration (at least, until Al swaggers back into the bar all Indiana Jones-style and kicks me out again!). When I’m not stooped over the vast mahogany bar that is your favourite drinking establishment, trying desperately to figure out what the fuck goes into a Blood and Sand cocktail without going to the beach, I write film reviews for my own website, fernbyfilms.com. Now, I know it’s a bit much to plug my own site while helping Al out for a while on this one, but those of you seeking a bit more background to my good self only need go over there for a quick gander to get the lay of the land. Either that or I tell you that I’m a Gemini, I love movies and playing with my young daughter, and I’m partial to dirty sex in the morning dawn. When I’m not writing film reviews of my own, I’m often reading others at various places around the Web, and one day whilst trying to click on RedTube with a dodgy mouse, I accidentally stumbled upon this place. Suffice to say, I haven’t left, and Al’s put up with me as a source of constant income if nothing else, so I say thankyou to him. I never did get back to RedTube. I don’t needs me no porn no more, apparently.

Second, no, I’m not gonna elaborate on Al’s current situation, which I think has been covered in detail by his supremely better looking other half, Miss Demeanour, in a previous post. Once Al’s back in the Bar where he belongs, slogging away trying to mix those stupid teenage cocktails Sex & The City has a shitload of responsibility for, it’ll be up to him to let loose the beast of information he’s no doubt working on whilst holed up in his Trainspotting-style bedroom, replete with ceiling-crawling babies and hot, sweaty broken sleep.

Third, and probably most importantly, I’m not here to replace Al at all; I offered my services to tend the Bar for a while during Al’s absence, but this is by no means a permanent change. Al will return (unless he wins the lotto!), and I’ll go back to my own work once he does. In the meantime, I hope I can bring you at least some of the great humour and warmth Al dishes out with his stuff, although I’m hardly the same quality wordsmith the great man himself manages to be. I tend to use a hundred words when three will do, while Al uses just one when four will suffice: and usually that one word is a cuss word of some sort too.

So think of me as Al 1.2, a kind of off-shoot of the big man hisself, although I’m more used to a cerebral drink about the smoking room pondering the complexities of life than a pavement-cuddling spewgasm of binging and memory gaps. I have a few neat ideas of stuff to give to you all while Al’s away (well, technically not away as much as unable to contribute: his eyes are everywhere and like the jolly fat Christmas dude, he knows when you’ve been drunk or sober…) and I hope and pray to God himself that they turn out the way I hope. I want to be invited back at some point.

 

Santa drops in on Al at The Bar None.

This situation (me running Al’s bar while he’s out) reminds me of that old joke (at least, I hope it’s an old joke, otherwise old people are gonna think I’m an idiot!) my dad told me once while sitting watching the football:

A guy walks into a bar and asks for a glass of beer, and the bartender says, “That’ll be four cents, please.”
The guy nearly spits out his beer. “Four cents?!” he says in amazement. “How much for a plate of fish and chips with extra mashed potatoes and gravy and a side order of peas?”
“Eleven cents,” says the bartender.
The customer says he’s going to recommend this place to all of his friends because of the low prices. “Wow!” he exclaims. “Where’s the manager so I can thank him for these low prices and shake his hand?”
“Upstairs,” says the bartender, “with my wife.”
“What’s he doing upstairs with your wife?” the customer asks.
“Same thing I’m doing to his bar and his money,” the bartender calmly replies.

Ahh, a classic. It’s my all-time favourite bar-related joke, and it’s still funny because it’s the kind of thing that could actually happen. So here’s a question to all our loyal stool-hoppers: what’s the best booze-related joke you’ve heard? Something funny, a bit raunchy or bawdy is okay, but it must be related to drinking. Send us your thoughts in the comments below!!!