Last Call

High-way to Hell

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On Saturday night, it finally happened. For the first time in recorded history, I wasn’t the highest person at a Whataburger. That title belonged to the guy at the Hemphill Street location who was so baked he could have doubl...


Gobble Gobble at Finn’s

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Like Iron Maiden and Mila Kunis, there are lots of good things to say about sandwiches, but they’re not always the best fit for every situation. Maiden tends to bomb at parties with chicks, Kunis was miscast in Book of Eli, a...



The Door Guys of Perception

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This cheapskate waiter-hating person I know gave me crap for using this space as a soapbox for the service industry, a crime to which I proudly plead guilty. But I also use it to stump for the rights of professional drunks, pot...


Cowtown Bar & Grill: Bust a Move

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If there’s one thing that aptly captures the fenced-in ennui of a Monday, it’s getting stuck at a left-turn light that never turns green. I made this connection when the light at the Camp Bowie/377 traffic circle cycled thr...



Wired Willy’s Keeps it Classy

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Listen, I get why people like The Pour House. If you’re looking to get a really noisy, flashy drunk on, the PH is pretty much the place to be. If pressed to describe the West 7th bar/restaurant in one word, I’d use “volum...


Yupp’s on High

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This one time, my friend and I were comparing stories about growing up in our respective youth ministries, laughing at the absurdities, the ironies, and about this dude we knew who allegedly got a hand job on a Young Life bus t...



Steppin’ in It

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Last Tuesday, I skipped out on watching Big Mike at The Moon to get out of my comfort zone and try something new, which is why I found myself walking down a set of stairs into Bar 9’s basement. See, back in June, I picked up ...


No Overtime for Bikinis

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Here’s the thing: I love dive bars and all, but every so often, one’ll give me a case of the willies strong enough to make me turn tail and head for some place presumably safer. I like to call it my stabby sense, and the ot...



Tomcats West: Not a Metal Club

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No matter what web site raves over the next Mastodon album, metal rock will always be maligned. I guess that’s probably to be expected and even more likely part of the genre’s cursed DNA. It still sucks, though, when a bar ...


Water: Lighter than Booze?

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My parents live about 90 miles east of the San Francisco Bay Area, and so their summer weather experience is slightly different than that of folks around here. I say “slightly” because Lodi still gets hot as balls. The main...