The Hot Rod Unloads: I’m so pissed I can’t remember what I was sayin’….

Guys –

I’ve drunk to much, and now I’ve drawn a blank. I think this piece was going to be something witty, but now I fear it’s jus’ gonna be somethin’ about nothin’. And in the process, a complete massacre of the English language. Thank God I don’t know French. They hate massacres. Inevitably, the drunken, slurry speech about how your wife never puts out enough or the way your fav’rit football team lost on the weekend descends into a swathe of “blarggghargaaagh” and “musssshhhhinblaghreachhh”, before a big burly bouncer chucks you out on your drunken ass. Mention having an enormous penis (perhaps even in a more crude manner than I have here!) or a set of testicles that would make King Kong feel small and shriveled and watch the womenfolk at the Bar roll their eyes in disgust. Or, is it a come-on? In your drunken stupor, how can you tell? Groping lady-parts or pulling your pants down to dance along the bar isn’t considered acceptable behavior, and nor should it, yet each and every weekend around the world, people of all ages and physical abilities try to do just that.

You know how you go out for a night on the town and end up waking up looking like Jon Voight did at the end of Anaconda when the anaconda puked him up? Shit that film was cool. That’s how cool you’ll be if you end up in a river full of anacondas, but on a night in downtown Metropolis you ain’t gonna get very far with stylin’ up like LiLo after a bender. Puke and stained clothing, as well as a stench of urine and spilled beer, will make anybody approaching you retch in disgust, so don’t be confused if you think you’re Gods gift to women and all the women you meet just happen to be Lesbetians. They aren’t, and neither are you. We may poke gentle fun at those among us who get hammered and end up on the internet with their mugshot looking like a reject from Faces of Meth (Gary Busey, you fucking legend you!) but the sad hard fact is, man, you ain’t Gary Busey and nobody gives two cracks how cool you think you are while you’re pissed.

Gary Busey after a night at The Bar None


Pissed people are generally offensive, whether they mean to be or not. They’re inconsiderate, loud and obnoxious. Or asleep in the corner, but those types don’t come along as often as the potty-mouthed fight-seekers. They make good tabloid fodder, the ever-present security vision highlight reel on the five-o’clock-news will attest to that. Drunken fighting only looked cool when Jackie Chan did it. So don’t bother, because you’ll look like a right tool. And not the good kind.

I was out on my good mate’s Bucks Night (otherwise known as a Stag Night in more seppo sections of the world) and it was, I believe, quite late in the night (or early in the morning, I forget), when we stumbled past a hotel that was packed so deep with people they were falling out the windows. Now, our group (I think there were about a dozen of us) had enjoyed a night of strippers, booze and music; we’d successfully made our way down the nightclub district visiting almost every bar, strip-joint and club we could gain access to. Most of us were a little tipsy, and more than a few of us were absolutely fucked up from the floor up. So we’re walking -staggering- past this bar, with the Buck wearing a set of fake boobs and a hula skirt (and not much else) when some drunk dude lurches from the doorway and proceeds to face-off against my friend. The Buck, who stands about nine feet tall if he’s an inch, looked down to his nipples, which was about where our drunken interloper made it to, and laughed drunkenly. Note to self, never laugh at an angry drunk dude. This guy had taken offense at the Buck wearing a hula skirt, and wanted to make something of it. We didn’t know him, and he didn’t know us. And the hula skirt wasn’t that bad, honestly. For a moment, in a drunken moment of gayness, I thought about trying a move.


My kind of Bucks Night...

Now, I’d like to say that the dozen of us manned up and took this clown down to Chinatown, but before we could bear arms and send his testicles on holiday to his sphincter, the bouncer at the door made his move. Now, the bouncer was even bigger than my mate, the Buck. He was as wide as he was tall, and looked like he’d take on a bunch of Hell’s Angels and pick his teeth with their bone fragments. He grabbed this dude by the arm, and swung him around to face him. The drunk dude was about to launch an attach at the bouncer in retaliation when he suddenly he realized that he was physically outmatched. As the guy looked up into the face of the bouncer, I got the sense that his bowels had let go with fear, and piss began to run from his crotch. We just kept walking, and I don’t know how that little tete-a-tete ended up, but I like to think it involved a parking meter, several minutes of insertion, and a lovely amount of ass-banditry.


Allow me to introduce the Bar None's two bouncers, Fuck and You.

Mental note – always wear brown pants out for a night on the town: you never know when you’re going to shit yourself. If you feel angry about something, don’t start a fight at the bar. The bar-folk don’t give a shit what your problem is, they just want you to either buy more booze, or getthefuckout. No sense being there to be taught that lesson by some big hairy guy with more ink on his arms than a BIC employee. I’ve already written a short diatribe on the perils of being drunk out in public, but I wanted to reiterate it again specifically for the guys reading this. Guys, you don’t look good when you’re pissed. Unless you’re fucking Jack Sparrow or that guy from The Rolling Stones who looks like he died forty years ago and nobody told him. Don’t try it.


With enough time and energy, you too could look like this...

I only say all this because I’ve really got nothing more to add. I’ve blown my creative wad, so to speak, with my previous posts. So I’m just rambling. Rambling like the Crazy Cat Lady on The Simpsons, ‘cept I’m not crazy and I don’t have any cats. That I know of. My original idea was to write something pithy (no, not pissy with a lisp) about drink driving, about my unfulfilled fantasy about having sex with Mila Kunis, and even a tentative prod at my inability to coherently form a sentence without brackets. I promise, my next post here at the Bar will involve the tale of the blowjob I got while on air at a local radio station. For now, I write this simply to pass the time. I’m here waiting for something to happen.


I'd go there. I'd even climb over your corpse to do it.

Wait, there’s a knock at the door. I’ll go see who it is.

Nope, it’s just the neighbor wanting to know if I remember borrowing his garden clippers. Do I remember? Nahh. I remember breaking them and throwing them in the trash, but I’m not gonna admit that to him. I’ll just let him think I gave them back and he’s forgotten. Time for a glass of wine. Might help settle my lying nerves. What have we learned today? Yep, don’t borrow your neighbors garden clippers. Buy your own you cheap bastard.

Hot Rod Out.

Celeb Dregs of the Week: March 7 – March 21, 2011 (i’m pretty sure)

Click on the Shot for the Wallpaper

You know how you sit around your place thinking, “It could be worse, I could be Al”? Well, stop doing that for a sec and wonder on this for a spell: Who does Al say that about? Go ahead and stop fretting your pretty little heads about that already, though, ’cause these are some of the people i tell myself i could be worse than. Or whatever.

To kick off this mess, here’s a song straight from the juiced-box and dedicated to the not as straight Owen Wilson:  Reverend Horton Heat – Baby, I’m Drunk

[Press ‘Play’ for Owen’s Son theme song.]

Celebrity Dregs

Times Are Hard (That's What She Said)

March 17: Owen Wilson Loves Babes

Seems Owen Wilson got one of his buddies pregnant and she dropped spawn January 14 this year. i’m betting he hung out with her and shot the shit and looked at his baby (and his watch) for a while. But you be knowin’ Owen and that boy is not a one-baby boy so just last week he was out drinking in a limo with a generous handful of other babes. Legal ones. And blonde. Back at his hotel. Must of rocked because went out and did it again the next night. Except turning the booze and the babes up a notch.

To be fair to Mr Wilson, i couldn’t find any evidence anywhere that Owen promised Jade Duell (28) anything more than a semen injection from his needle dick. So probably it’s cool if he’s out scoping babes rather than babies.

Jade Duell & Spawn

March 07: Nicolas Cage Fails Again To Impress Me

You gotta give him credit for trying to make an impression on my good side, but his recent shots missed the mark in a big way.

So Nick the Dick was celebrating the underwhelming 9th place opening weekend he had with his drunk Drive Angry movie which cost 50 million to make and so far has made only 1/5th of that which is so small there’s not even a key for it in WordPress. He got wasted in this poor restaurant and got in a fight and broke a window and the poh-poh shut him down by taking him back to his hotel for “his own insecurity”. Oops, i mean “his own security”.

You think that’s trippy, follow this link to a video of Cage-y drunk and obnoxious in Bucharest, Romania.

March 14: Alcohol Is STILL Tiger Woods’ Driving Force

i’m gonna keep bragging about this even after you get fed up of hearing about it and stop coming here. Way back in December of 2009 (what!?), i made the link between Tiger Woods and booze and i used up all my good golf-drinking puns, and the other ones too, so you should be safe here.

Anyway, Tiger has a new girlfriend (emphasis on ‘girl’): 22-year-old Alyse Lahti Johnston, making her younger than some of the scotch he also pounds. Yep, she’d be the one splashed across the wallpaper gracing the entry to the Bar None up top.

But what is it that ties one on between her and the booze in the Woods? Five months ago she was busted for drunk driving in…if it’s not Tennessee where is it? You got it: Florida. It looked something like this kind of ugly.

And here’s a link you should super look into because put a lot more work into this than i could ever be bothered to. My favorite part is the police report where the cop says, “I asked her on a scale of zero to ten with zero being sober and ten being impaired where she would rate herself? She replied ‘fuckin’ 10′.” That’s calling ’em as you kinda can’t see ’em. Oh, and what was the damage? Before Tiger she was blowing 0.210.

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

Straight Patricks

For those of you who came here for a wild ride on St Patrick’s, make sure you check out Bianca’s Blast from the Pabst over at Girls With Prius Envy. For the rest of you…

Click on the Shot for Wallpaper Size

From the juiced-box and the recipe for a St Patrick’s Day: The Pogues – Beer Beer Beer

[Press ‘Play’ for Póg Mo Thóin, or Kiss My Ass]

Kiss It, I'm Irish

‘S Ain’t Patrick’s

Guess what and i’m gonna tell you anyway so you don’t have to. i never liked Saint Patrick’s Day. i know i’m s’posed to and everything because i’m all alcoholic and as the Temporal Functional Alcoholics Slurperson my official slightly askance stance is i’m leaning towards it.

Still, it always scared me to death. First off, there’s this whole “It’s the best party day of the year” insanity or the “Oktoberfest for spud lovers” mentality illness that gets your hopes so high that whatever happens tastes more like New Year’s Eve let down and green hot dogs on their way back up than anything approaching fun.

Second off, who the fuck’s idea was it to make St Patrick’s Day the 17th of March? Seriously, this means that only once every decade will St Patties fall on a Friday night. Partying on a fun day is mathematically eliminated. The other nine years in a row, and don’t ask me how this happens ’cause you know how much i don’t get about math, Saint Patrick’s falls on Tuesday. Or, like this year, Thursday. And sometimes Monday but never on Funday which means work with a hangover. If you ask me and you really should because i know tons of shit, Saint Patrick’s Day should be like Easter and always on a Sunday with a day off after. Yeah, if i were drinKing, that’s the way it would be.

So this year, i boycotted Saint Pat’rick’s Night and Day and went to AA instead. Didn’t drink anything green but i had a good laugh with cool people, some of whom were Irish from Ireland Irish, and today i felt good enough to write. Plus i got to look up hot pictures of Lassies, and i’m not talking about dogs, Bitches.

Charlie Sheen: i Want You for Functional Alcoholic Slurperson

Charlie Sheen: i Want YOU! (for FASe)

[Press ‘Play’ for the Charlie Sheen Apocalypse Me theme song: Carlos Santana – #Winning]

My Flow Alcoholics,

For those of you sober enough to notice or drunk enough to care, my title has officially changed to Temporal Functional Alcoholic Slurperson. As i failed at functioning and quit being a practicing alcoholic (and with all that practicing you’d a thought i’d have gotten it down by now), i feel i am no longer qualified to hold the position i so ceremoniously elected myself to last year and to which y’all cared about me enough not to put up a stink.

My fellow D.R.I.N.K.E.R.s (Drunks Really Involved Now Known as Exiles Reunited), members of the D Generation (i.e. Drinking Generation), i humbly nominate as my replacement the ONE and ONLY #Winning-est somebitch of all time, Charlie Sheen. Through these last few weeks Charlie Sheen has proved time and time again that he understands that fine balance between alcoholism and functioning. And winning.

Charlie? If you’re reading this, we here at the Bar None raise our glasses and ask that you become the new International Functional Alcoholic Slurperson (FASe). Basically the job entails doing nothing other than drinking and speaking your peace. And wasting trolls (but without hating too much, as there’s a strict No Hating policy here at the Bar None).

For those of you in support of this movement, please be so kind as to cut and paste the following to your Twitter:  @charliesheen Please become our new Functional Alcoholics Slurperson #winning #fastball #tigerblood #AlKHall #BarNone

Thank You for Patronizing Me,

Al K Hall

Temporal Functional Alcoholic Slurperson

Charlie Sheen at the Bar None

10 Drinks i’m Gonna Miss

My fellow alcoholics, D.R.I.N.K.E.R.s and members of the D Generation (Drinking Generation),

‘Tis i, your Temporal (as i will have to relinquish my crown shortly) Functional Alcoholic Slurperson here with another Top 10 Lips.

As you probably suspect, after the troubles earlier this year i’ve stopped drinking. While this decision is obviously something i need to go over in this blog, i’m still looking for an angle to address it in and still keep the trademark Al K Hall what-passes-for-humor tramp stamp that festers all through my posts like a tattoo from a dirty needle.

[For those of you who actually do care what’s up with my recovery, i’ve been unloading in fits and starts in the Comment’s Section of a friend’s blog: Bats’ The She Chronicles. The two posts where i upchuck the most are here and here. And Bats, babe? i’m so sorry for linking here without asking first. If too many of my dregs spill over onto your lovely flophouse, just let me know and i’ll bar the way (no, the other kind of bar, the bad kind, no the other bad kind, the one that’s a verb.]

Here then are those booze moments Al K Hall Free will long for the most because these are

10 Drinks i’m Gonna Miss

1. Free mini bottles of wine on the airplane

2. The first bottle of 3.2 on a 3-day bender

3. Vodka during sex

4. The glass of wine that loosens my tongue, tightens my speech, and greases my wheels at parties

5. Mojitos made in front of me by the barman while i’m sitting in a seat where Hemingway once sat

6. Frozen daiquiris by the pitcher drunk through a straw

7. The beer in the bar i cling to for ballast sitting across from the beautiful babe

8. Pastis on the beach on the first day of summer

9. Amaretto Sours on the deck of the sailboat sliding over the lake at sunset

10. Every drink ever tasted, wasted, nipped, sipped, lost or found, bought in a round, swilled then refilled, gotten free, tasted like pee, drank or sank even with the stank, forgotten, rotten, drunk straight down out on the town, slurped, burped, gulped fast or nursed to last, cold, bold, new, brewed, swallowed or spit ’cause it tasted like shit, consumed, resumed, hopped, dropped, toasted, roasted, put away, tossed back, knocked down and thrown back up again, absorbed, abhorred, dissipated, anticipated, partaken (stirred or shaken), quaffed, sloshed, drained like rain, tippled, rippled, lapped, sapped, sopped, rocked, swigged and sucked until it fucked me up and laid me down right on the viscous altar of a Friday night

[Click here for my other Top 10 Lips]

The bArCADEMY AwkWARDS: The Alkies (2011 Sedition)

The Coveted Alkie

[Press ‘Play’ for an Alkie nominated song from the juiced-box: The Doors – Alabama Song (Whiskey Bar) Live in Boston (1970)]

Good Evening. You know why y’all remind me of bathrooms? Because you’re ladies and gents, but forgive me for my potty mouth. Welcome to the Rehab Center For Autists here in downtown Yeman. It’s i, Al K Hall, temporal International Functional Alcoholic Slurperson and your humble Masturbates Ceremoniously, coming to you still alive to present tonight’s 2nd Anal bArCADEMY AwkWARDS [AlKHallism: Click here for a reruns of last year’s cere-moaning].

i’d like to welcome those of you who’ve made it back from last year and to welcome the newbeers. i remember my first time—wait, no i don’t, actually. Memory…forget about it.  Why is it you can only remember the things you don’t want to? You can’t for the life of you remember what was so attractive about that person at the party who was so ugly they had to shave their asses and walk around backwards to look better, but you’ll never in your life forget the smell of the shame when looking at the hairy sack of bile sloshing beside you when you wake up the next morning. What did i want to say? Right, i keep forgetting that i have good memory.

Alright, enough monologuing. There are plenty of other things that involve mono and they are much more clothing discouraged than this thing. Besides, all these jokes sound funnier in my head and the other voices there appreciate the humor much more than y’all. You should see all the clap i got going on up there…

Just like last year, we’ll be honoring alcohol in the movies and awarding the coveted Alkie statuette for outsitting (because who the fuck can be bothered to stand?) use of booze in the movies since last year’s orgy of pride.

Ladies first, so let’s get the rock rolling with the Best Drunk Actress award. To present the Alkie, we’ve had Tara Reid delivered. Why can’t Tara Reid? Because she’s fuckin’ drunk! Seriously everyone, i’m proud—and a little dizzy from the contact blonde—to introduce you to Tara Reid!

Tara Reid: Thanks so much, Al. I just wanted to say it’s an honor to be anywhere tonight. Like you paid me for, I’m giving away the Best Drunk Actress tonight, which means the chick who acts drunk best and not the actress who gets the most drunkenest. As I’ve just discovered. Here are tonight’s anomolies:

  1. Julianne Moore as “Charley” in A Single Man
  2. Winona Ryder as “Beth Macintyre” in Black Swan
  3. Nathalie Portman as “Emma” in No Strings Attached

And the winner is… Winona Ryder as “Beth Macintyre” in Black Swan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dah dah dahdahdahdah dah dah dahdahdahdah dah dah dahdahdahdah My Winona! Congrats, babe. i’m so glad to see your come-back face. And what can you follow that with other than: the Best Drunk Actor award?

To present this year’s Alkie for the Best Drunk Actor in a Motion Sickness Picture, give it up more than even Tara Reid does for Jamie Foxx. What do Jamie Foxx and Santa Claus have in common? Ho Ho Hos…

Jamie Foxx: Ahh, dawg. You make me wanna rap you up, huh huh, rap you drunk huh huh. Rap the stuff? Uh-uh. Rap you up huh huh, rap you up oh yeah, rap you drunk…

‘Ight, y’all. We’s got us some anomalies for Best Drunk Actor in da house; which is:

  1. Jeff Bridges as “Bad Blake” in Crazy Heart
  2. Colin Firth as “George” in A Single Man
  3. Robert Downey Jr as “Tony Stark / Iron Man” in Iron Man 2

The envelope, yo, and you don’t want me to axe you twice. Oh no you don’t. And the Best Drunk Actor is…

Jeff Bridges as “Bad Blake” in Crazy Heart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh man, that Jeff Bridges. Basically he spent all last year drunk in movies and i know you know how he got to “act” so good at drunk. I’ma shut up about that, though, ’cause i don’t wanna burn any Bridges.

What’s a lot more fun is to ease on down the road trip to Best Drinking Song in a Movie. Course you don’t wanna be easing down that road if my next presenter is driving on it. When he drives around he literally drives “around”, only problem is the road is straight. Certainly shitloads straighter than…Vince Neil!

Vince Neil: Thanks a lot, kids. Man, sorry I’m so late but there were all these speed bumps running around the road as I was swerving through the school crossing. I’m shit faced to be here tonight and present the abominations for Best Drinking Song in a Movie. You already heard the first one at the top of our show— “Alabama Song (Whiskey Bar)” by the Doors in When You’re Strange— and so here’s the second one that you don’t really have to listen to because it didn’t win anyway. Landon Pigg featuring Turbo Fruits doing “High Times” from Bliss.

As predicted, the winner is The Doors!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To wrap things up tonight, i’ve got big big fuckin’ news for you. Tonight isn’t about winning and losing, it’s about #winning. And getting drunk, but especially #winning with a hash mark, babes, and emphasis on the hash. Tonight’s presenter of Best Drunk Motion Picture is no longer part of 2½ Men because he’s a man and a half. Let’s here you make some noise louder than a train wreck for THE MAN, @Charlie Sheen!

Charlie Sheen: #Winning! #TigerBlood! #Winning #tigerblood. The abonominations for Best Drinking Movie of 2010 are:

  1. When You’re Strange
  2. Crazy Heart

#Winning #tigerblood #goddesses….

Crazy Heart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And there you have it, another year of bArCADEMY AwkWARDS put to bed harder than Miley Cyrus stoned on Saliva. i’d like to congratulate you all for sticking with this all the way to the end and remember, you’re all #winners in my book. Course i threw up on that book in my last binge, so there you have it. Or not.

Thanks for patronizing me, Barmaids and Beerhounds…

Al K Hall

Temporal Functional Alcoholic Slurperson

Christina Aguilera Breastalizers

Christina Aguilera in the Bar None

[Press ‘Play’ for how i like my martinis]

Drunk Riding

On March 1, 2011 Christina Aguilera and her breasts were arrested for public drunkenness. She took the twins out…for a night on the town with her new main squeeze, Matthew Rutler. Hold on a sec while i dig out my photo of ol’ Matt and post it over there on the left.

Seems the happy couple, along with Xtina and Matt, got sloshed in an upscale restaurant called Osteo Mama (or something) in LA. Everyone was enjoying so much wine that, according to TMZ, the waiter told a fan not to send more booze because the party was already “drinking one bottle of wine…maybe two.” Like a Bactrian camel (yep, the kind that has two humps), she suckled both bottles dry and continued on after the restaurant closed.

Apparently she holds her breaths better than her booze because when Matt was pulled over for drunk driving, even if he blew only .01% over the limit. They both got busted, pair of boobs that they are, him for DUI and her for public drunkenness which i was amazed to discover is still a crime in LA. She had to spend all night in the pokey and was released the next morning. The prosecutor said he will not press charges against her tits for tat.

i’m not politically correct enough for you? i don’t give a hooters. Let me just shake my magic wand more than twice and: ta tas! Christina Aguilera wallpaper and Drawer Shots.

Al K Hall’s Drawers