Dive Bars – f-your blog

FYB Update: A Glimpse Behind The Cloak Part 2: Next Stop The Great Southern Swamp

So Once the Car Crash Chaos finally Calmed Down We were able to Hit the Road out of the Woods headed straight towards the Great Southern Swamp. Though We ended up leaving 3 fucking Horus behind Schedule (I hate being Late its a Pet fucking Peave of Mine) it was Mostly My fault I must Admit. I would go to do Something only to get Distracted along the Way thus Wasting a great deal of Time chasing My own damn Tail as it were.

In All Actuality I can’t complain I mean obviously I could be an Asshole of the Highest Order and Nit Pick something to Bitch about, But why the Hell do that?! Once We left it was smooth fucking Sailing all the Way No Shitty Weather, Traffic Jams, Road Construction, Road Delays, Accidents, Rush Hour Issues, and No Stupid Motherfuckers sitting at a Dead Stop in the Middle the Road (on a Blind Curve ) while Stealing Shit to Deal with it was Damn near Perfect.

Since We weren’t going to get to Where We needed to be until much Later then expected We decided not to get Pissed about it, and instead take Advantage of it by taking Our Sweet Ass Time. Fuck the Runaround, Rushing About, and the Rat Race fuck Them all. It was nice I have to admit not to be so Constricted by the Concept of Time it was quite fucking Peaceful.

We got a Good Nights Sleep and a Chance to Sleep in which is always Nice. After milling around Drinking Coffee to No End My Wife and I met up with Her Best Friend Dozie (and a Good Friend and Ex-Coworker of Mine). The first Order of Business was Lunch as Dozie was just getting off Work by the Time We were ready to Venture Out into the Surrounding Swamp. Since We live Deep in the Woods of The Southern Country We don’t have Certain things You can find Pretty much anywhere fucking Else, and in this Case it was a Deli. No Deli’s in the Boondocks I am afraid to Say.

After Lunch We rather Aimlessly Rode around Town checking out How Our Old Stomping Ground had Changed or Evolved since We got the Hell out of the Breath Southern Swamp. We also made Several purchases of Other Hard to Locate Living in No Man’s Land Items along the Way as Well figuring Why waste a Perfectly Good Opportunity?! As the Day Faded Away into the Oncoming Dark Night My Wife, Dozie, and I prepared Ourselves for a Evening out at The Eagles Our Long Time Favorite Local Dive Bar.

What Dozie was unaware of was that Over Time My Wife and I found a Following of Friendly People who Adore the shit Out of Us especially since We moved several Years Ago. My Wife dropped Me off at the Eagles and went to run to the Bank or some last minute mundane Task, and I went in ahead of Her and Dozie.

The First Person I ran into is a Gentleman Named Hatchet who instantly as He always does (and has for fucking Years) Yelled at the top of his fucking Lungs “HEY IT’S JESUS!”, and Then precedes to Shake My Hand and inadvertently fucking Break it with Drunken Excitement. Now Why Does He Refer to Me as Jesus? Why is My Nickname in General at the Eagles Jesus? Well I’ll leave it Up to You to figure that one Out.

During the Course of the Night I got to visit with My Favorite Eagles Bar Tender of all Fucking Time Audry who ironically was Tending Bar that Night. The New Bar Tender was alright She didn’t neglect anyone or Drag Her Ass in any way, but there was still that awkward Unfamiliarity hanging in the Air like a Lingering Fart. I got to See the Cast of Usual Suspects and Especially My Best Friend Mr. Percy most of All. It was a rather Lively Night at the Eagles which can be quite Low Key when it wants to be. There was Endless Rounds of Jello Shots, Chaotic Karaoke, and Some Alcohol Fueled and Related Auction for All Kinds of Random shit. There was like Your Basic Gift Basket, but Mostly it was Bottles of Booze or Heavily Booze Laced Desserts/Cakes, and the Fireball was Flowing Freely.

The Following Morning I woke up Nice and Early just so I could have the Pleasure of Puking. You know You’ve Partied Your Ass Off to Capacity when You Vomit During OR at The End of the Night. If You wake up and the First fucking thing You do is Vomit You know Last Night You abused the Hell Out of Your Liver, and More than likely You Damn Near did Your Liver in Once and For All. It’s one of Those Times where You wake Up, and say to Yourself Well I may Not be Quitting Drinking for Good, But I am for Quite a While.It’s the type of Hangover that Even when it’s Over it Still Haunts Your Memory.

A Little Later on that Pleasantly Sunny Morning My Wife and I had Brunch with Her Aunt and Uncle along with My Wife’s Younger Cousin and His Wife. Considering the Previous Nights Over Indulgence on My part this Brunch was Particularly Brutal just to Get Through. My Head was Fuzzy, My Eyes were Blurry, and I My Mind was Muddled as a Motherfucker Let Me Tell You. Weirdly at the Same Time it was really Pleasant on some Sick Level I suppose because all said and Done I ultimately enjoyed Myself.

The Restaurant We ate at was a Bit Too Fancy For Me as I’m so fucking LOW Maintenance its an Ongoing Joke.I went with the Family Flow and Ordered a 3 Course Lunch with Various Options in the Appetizer/Main Course/ Dessert Something or Other. The Appetizer I opted for Honestly was the Only fucking Option that sounded like anything I would actually Eat which was Black Bean and Bacon Soup. Did I mention How Hungover I was because that Soup was HEAVY AS FUCK! I mean while it Tasted Splendid as soon as it Landed in Your Stomach it Apparently turns into Instant Cement or at Least thats what fucking Felt Like. The Main Course was Fish so it was Delightful and Light on the Stomach which was still Reeling from the Dense Soup Scenario. The Dessert Deal turned out to be a Selection of Desserts in fucking Shot Glasses which I’m rather Ambivalent about, but thats just Me.

After the Meal was Over Everyone went Their different Ways, and My Wife and I circled around Back to Base Camp. My Wife spent Her time productively Completing Her Continuing Education Courses/Credits for this Year while I on the Other Hand took a Well Needed Nap to Fully Regain My Faculties. It was by by Definition a Power Nap as I awoke Feeling like My Normal fucking Self Again, I was Resurrected in the Land of the Living.

We reconvened that evening around 6 pm when I noticed that a Couple We Knew and were Good Friends with had Texted Us to see if We’d like to stop by Their House for Dinner, and to See the Puppy of Ours They Adopted a Year Back. I would like to take a second to acknowledge that Derrick and Terri are Great Owners, But Bernie (The Dog) turned out to be a Great Dog. Well Behaved, No Bad Habits, Listens to His Owners Etc.

I immediately conferred with my Wife and Texted Derrick and Terri back with an Enthusiastic Hell’s Yes. Unfortunately it turned Out Derrick had been doing Roofing Work that Day, and as Roofing goes He fucked up His Back pretty Bad. So Poor fucking Derrick had to Bail on Dinner to tend to His Beat Up Back, But We still stopped by and Saw Terri ad Bernie, Hung out for a while, Shot the Shit, had a Few Beers, and Laughed a lot. After Our visit We headed over to the Eagles once again to meet up with Mr. Percy and Thank God it was a much Slower Night at The Eagles. I was Happy because the other Night had been Fun as fuck sometimes Relaxing over a Few Drinks beats Partying until Dawn.

We Left the Following Morning after having Breakfast with My Wife’s Older Cousin who was in Town. We Managed to Stay on Schedule this time around and made Great Time. I honestly was a Little Impressed I must say. Again We were lucky as Hell not to have had to Deal with any Traffic/Road Issues like Holiday Traffic or Weekend Traffic for Example. Needless to say it was Splendid Not getting Stuck in some Aggravating bullshit along the Way. I enjoy the Ride because it’s Familiar, BUT Not to the Point of Monotony. This is a Very fucking Difficult Balance to Achieve None the Less Maintain the Test of Time. I find Boredom Deplorable and Truly Hellish in Many Ways so this Delicate Balance is Especially Important in My Mind.

Since We returned Home to the Woods much Earlier than Ever be for decided if We could Pick Up Our Big Dogs Tonight instead of having Wait till After Work the Following Day. It Save Us both Time and Money which I am Always in Favor of. It would just so Happen that even though it was well After Hours the Guy We Board with was willing to Stay Late and gave Us His Cell Number. We called and of course He said come on by which means see You in 45 minutes because again We live in the Middle of No Where Special. We managed to pick up the Big Dogs without to much Hyper Dog Drama except for When Big Dad Dog came flying cross the Front Desk into the Waiting Room.

Once We got Home Everyone Hit the Couch and fucking CRASHED being utterly Worn Out and Thoroughly Exhausted from Our Venture. Road Trips are fucking Fun, But at the same Time there’s Nothing Like Returning Home.

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober

Lee Jonitis: Professional People Watcher (31/365)

” There nothing I like better right now than a Cold Beer.” Said Lee emphatically with His eyes still Locked on The Fatal Four Way Refund Death Match still going Strong in front of Them.

“I know a place Near by. It’s My Actual Neighborhood Bar believe it or Not. Low Lights, Cold Beer, No $15 Cocktails, No Flare, No Pretentious Mixologists, No Dj, and No Trendy goddamn Hipster Half Wits. People at The Boozehound are content to leave one another in Peace. Respect the Institution of Bars.” said Dizzy almost growing giddy a the Thought, “It’s called the Boozehound and it’s a True American Classic Dive Bar.”

“Dive Bar you say?” responded Lee His Apprehension being quite evident.

“What? You got a fucking Problem with Dive Bars, I mean what are You one of those Commercial Sheep? One Those Applebee’s Assholes or What?!” demanded Dizzy defensively.

“No Offense its nothing fucking Personal in the least. It’s just that sometimes People get confused on the exact Definition of a Dive Bar. What you described is the Ideal Dive Bar Scenario and I’m liking it again don’t get Me wrong. Some People mistake a Shitty Hellhole of a Bar as What a Dive Bar is or should. When in Actuality its nothing like the fucking stupid Stereotype as Stereotypes go,” explained Lee plainly, “Dive Bars don’t Stink of Stale Beer or Urine, They don’t smell like fucking Vomit either. They’re not dirty, scummy, disgustingly unhygienic, The Bathrooms aren’t total shitholes that make Gas Station Restrooms look like the Fucking Four Seasons. You walk into a place like that its just a Shit Bar it’s No Dive Bar by Definition thats for sure.”

“Oh shit Ok I see what You’re saying. No I assure I’m not an Ignorant asshole or anything. Its a straight up by the Book Dive Bar.” said Dizzy with renewed Confidence.

With that the Two New Acquaintances departed the Theater leaving the Refund Turmoil behind. They walked several blocks through a nice Working Class Neighborhood until They Reached the Boozehound located on the Street Corner. Dizzy threw open the Door and strode in like He owned the fucking joint with Lee in tow.

Lee looked around the Bar assessing the Layout. To the left was the actual Bar that stretched almost the entire way down the wall, and a Row of High Backed Booths lining the wall to the right. The Restrooms were located all the way at the back of the Bar next to an Antique Wurlitzer Jukebox, and one of the World’s Last Pay Phones.

Dizzy and Lee posted up at the Far end of the Bar because Dizzy apparently had some fucking Mobster Complex. He said He always has to have His back to a Wall, and Where He could See the whole Bar but more importantly the Front Door. Lee wondered if Dizzy had a good reason to be Paranoid or if it was simply a Personal choice.

“See the Middle Aged Guy sitting in the Last Booth?” ask Dizzy in a hushed Tone.

“Yeah I saw Him when We came,” answered Lee, “Why what’s His deal?”

“Its one of those No One really knows. We Call Him Vladdy He first came to The Boozehound in the Winter of 1980, and been showing up every single day since. Vladdy keeps solo to Himself and He doesn’t say shit. Not that it matter though since Vladdy doesn’t speak a fucking lick of English and No One round here Speaks a lick of Russian, but Somehow Vladdy and the Bartenders have found some sort of way to Communicate even if it’s in a very Simplistic manner.” Replied Dizzy sparking up a Joint and continuing, “Oh it’s fine if I Smoke a little Weed in here I know the Owner. Anyway every morning when the Owner comes to Open Up Vladdy is already here and waiting on the Stoop. Everyday it’s the exactly same fucking routine. Owner Opens up, Vladdy takes His spot at the Last Booth along the Wall. After Vladdy takes a seat The Bartender brings Vladdy a Jar of Kosher Dill Pickles, a Shot Glass, and an entire unopened Bottle of this Insane Russian Vodka. I think I heard His Family actually makes the shit and ships it Stateside for Him or some crazy shit like that. It’s Vladdy so who knows.”

Dizzy paused for a minute to get the attention of the preoccupied Bartender who was standing with His back t the Bar intently scrutinizing the Football game that was on the Bar’s only TV. When Dizzy got the Bartenders attention He ordered Them a couple of Ice Cold DraftBeers along with a couple of Shots of Maker’s Mark before returning to the conversation.

“Well Vladdy spends the Day sitting in His Booth Taking Shots and Eating a few Bites of Pickle in-between until The Vodka Bottle is Empty. The Vladdy gets up and Leaves for where who the hell knows most likely its Home I’d suppose. And then it starts all over agin the next Morning kind of like an Alcoholic Version of that Bill Murray Movie fucking Groundhog Day and shit.” said Dizzy right before slamming a shot and a Beer, and then ordering another round.

Stay Tuned Kiddies for Tomorrow’s Stupendous Installment of………

LEE JONITIS: PROFESSIONAL PEOPLE WATCHER (32/365)

Thanks for Reading,

By Les Sober.

Text-A-Rama: Another Round of Absurd Insanity

Yup you got it I’m here to dish up another heaping helping of Late Night Texting (between SpaceDog and My self) served Insanity Side Up with a side of Shit Talking.

SpaceDog: Also you can add “hey Goggle, fuck off” to the list of Fucks. So i either have a broken heater or my upstairs neighbor has the loudest vibrator known to man. Overtime i hear the loud buzz i turn up my tv as loud as possible (or music) and no matter what after 10 minutes it goes away. What the fuck could it possibly be if not the heater making the bitch of a buzz noise? My heater has not ran as further reference.

Les: I agree fuck Google, fuck’ed straight to the 9th circle of Hell for all I fucking care, search shit engine. What kind of heating do you have exactly I don’t remember from my visits. My brain is like a fucking Old Car. Its still runs but it takes a few minutes to warn the hell up. Dunno did you change the Filter?

SpaceDog: Baseboard like a basehead. isn’t basehead the original crackhead?

Les: Oh well fuck the filter idea. LMFAO. Yeah before crackheads were baseheads. Its the fucking evolution of Crack Cocaine! Before crack people freebased combining Cocaine and Baking Powder into a smokable form of powder. Richard Pryor set himself on fucking fire free basing.

SpaceDog: Probably the fuck not they don’t do shit around here.

Les: Been there and I had to fucking pay an HOA quarterly for doing DICK. Home Owning Assholes.

SpaceDog: Yo these asses left the sprinkler on during a nor easter which wouldn’t have been bad but it was set to go off so it would pound against my windows every 4 hrs for 15 minutes. I had to go out in the rain climb through bushes, throw the sprinkler into the lawn, wade threw bushes and mud and shut the fucker off.

Les: What kind of dumbfuck leaves the sprinkler during a fucking nor Easter?! Even if the sprinkler timer is pre set they could hit the kill switch or some shit to shut it down. Goddamn thats a bunch of unnecessary horseshit. I’d be pissed as hell too. Who needs that shit.

SpaceDog: So like literally after i get this urge to write in the silence my apartment is making all kinds of noises. LOL. I have not wanted to sit in silence since i stopped living with Eon 8 fucking years ago. In other news, the top breaking news tonight is Kanye realized he was being used by Donald and is staying away from politics. Lmfao

Les: Trump played Kanye the way Kim Jong-un played fucking Dennis Rodman LMFBO!!! Kanye is the African American’s answer to Alex “Asshole” Jones. Holy Fuckster 8 years is a fucking Prison sentence. EON A-LA-CRACKHEAD with a guitar, the coffee house crackhead cunt.

SpaceDog: Kanye the past 2 years is like Clint Eastwood talking-to that chair for 2 years straight.

Les: Lmfbo true. I want to see a fight between Charlie”Tigers Blood” Sheen Vs. Kanye “Dragon Energy” West.

SpaceDog: Hey u discovered any good way to make things disappear from continue watching on Netflix? I wish i could relabel this section Things That Suck Ass and Baited Into Subtitles because all you lazy fucks translated was the title.

Les: No I wish I had. Baited into subtitles LOL! I’ve seen foreign movies on Netflix with NO Subtitles or Over Dubbing so if you don’t speak the language your outright fucked. Working on a List of Fucks part 2. There were so many more Lmfao.

SpaceDog: Didn’t realize there were that many more.

Les: I didn’t either until I started thinking about “Fuck….” all over again.

SpaceDog: So hopefully i don’t sleep tonight as long as yesterday. I slept from 11:30 pm to 5 pm. Ok i got coffee at 7 and that kept me awake till 9 but thats a bit more sleep than i’d prefer.

Les: Sounds like you have Rip Van Winkle Syndrome or some shit.

SpaceDog: I feel like i have either strep, Legionaries or mono.

Les: Perhaps Narcolepsy or a bad bout of boredom Lmfbo!

SpaceDog: Walking pneumonia is another possibility.

Les: Thats Sucks Snail Scrotum. Being sick sucks Blue Whale Balls for sure. Goddamn disease. Fuck disease.

SpaceDog: Grocery shopping when sick sucks ass. I literally went down every aisle and realized all that was in my cart were peppermints.

Les: I might think about hitting up a fucking doctor just in case. better safe than dead. YOLO Peppermints riding SOLO!

SpaceDog: I have 3 antibiotics laying around. Was thinking of taking copra but idk why 1 tbh. My sickness started when i started hearing that noise. Go figure. Woo hoo i have a porn app on my phone I’m officially an old perv.

Les: Porn App you dirty old fucker, you use an app?! I just hit up Youporn on my phone if need be.

SpaceDog: Its android only ask file from videos.com

Les: PornHub Ve. YouPorn. Stumpfucker Films is all Amputee Porn.

SpaceDog: Im finally out of mental and penile anguish from seeing a prolapsed butthole.

Les: Dear fucking God thats a seriously fucked up thing to see, burns into your fucking brain forever.

SpaceDog: Can we make a show for Netflix? I mean if haters back off was a show why can’t i just go around filming ivy savage all day?

Les:Where the hell did you see some sick shit like that at?!! Netflix is a good fucking question you got me there.

SpaceDog: I really just want to see a rim job but whatever fucking site i was on i guess i included too many search words and boom it was all hanging the fuck out.

Les: Case of Mangled Rectal Trama. Can you take a shit with a prolapsed asshole?! What if you tied 2 prolapsed rectums together?! Can you blow it up like a fucking balloon animal?!

SpaceDog: Not just like oh your asshole is swollen from a hard fuck, no i mean i probably saw prostate. Idk I’m glad i didn’t have that picture in my head when the lady at hurry back inn told me about her reversed bowels 15 years ago.

Les: Reversed Bowels?!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT ABOUT?! Lmfba!

SpaceDog: I miss Leonard’s

Les: Leonard’s? Bloody Stool is my new favorite band.

SpaceDog: The bar on Crocker rd in Spamilton that was near my parents house.

Les: Oh OK I have no memory of that bar, then again I don’t remember a whole hell of a lot from most bars.

SpcaeDog: Its some pizza bar now. I don’t miss the other bar on that street. All i remember is it was the first time in my life i incited an angry mob. The other were at mcguinns and at the lottery ticket machine.

Les: Lmfao what the hell was the angry mob thing about because it sounds entertaining.

SpaceDog: Which One? LOL

Les: Any and all of Course.

SpaceDog: Was so crunk i thought i was at a gay bar and got catty at some random dude and he took it as fighting words, then started shit with a different dude. Mcguinns got kicked out for being overly intoxicated but stole 3 cell phones on the way out (pre smartphone era)

Les: Catty and Crunk sounds like a fucking crime tv cop buddy detective shows from the fucking 70’s.

SpaceDog: Lottery machine i stuck money in the scan winning ticket hole and the machine went completely dead with a line of like 30 people behind me. Machine went completely dead for 5 minutes but then took 5 more to reboot.

Les: Why the hell did it need to Reboot?!

SpcaeDog: Quite possibly the 10 longest sober minutes of my life. Took a hammer to them after not finding any kompromat on them.

Les: Thats a real Lottery Machine Motherfucker.

SpaceDog: I aslo lost a sneaker in mcguinns so i came home with 1 shoe. Like hell i was going back for it though LOL

Les: LOL think we have all been there with the coming home drunk to sober up with one less shoe. Fuck and No I wouldn’t have gone back for it either.

SpaceDog: That literally was the only time i walked solo to mcguinns. I was more a crystal diner take teenage boys in the bathroom to do shots with me.

Les: a Bathroom Bar. Sounds like Ye Old Crystal Diner. I knew it well. Used to go there with The Arminian, Eon, and Homicidal Hippy when we were dealing drugs together.

SpaceDog: Its the route 1 diner now. Not 24 hrs. Shittsville has zero 24 hrs shit now. Quite possibly the only WaWa gas station on Earth that closes.

Les: Last time I went to the Crystal Diner I ran into Jack Off Jimmy V who tried to be a condescending cunt and get in my face for being stoned as well as drunk, and I was all I used to be your fucking drug dealer you bitch ass bitch. What Jimmy didn’t know is though we hadn’t seen each other in several years I still knew the shit that happened to him i that time the dumb twat. I informed him I knew of his addiction to Tart heroin followed by rehab and then a full scale metal breakdown (schitzophrenia I think)SO FUCK THAT JACK OFF.

SpaceDog: Yeah judgey people suck. Thats pretty fucking funny.

Les: What?! No longer open 24 hrs and with a cliche stupid ass name that really fucking sucks. RIP Crystal Diner a True Dive Diner.

Les: This Fucks list part 2 is actually longer than the original. Lmfao! Original word count was 1,063. Part 2 word count is 1,255.

SpaceDog: Are there repeat fucks or original fucks only?

Les: Don’t think there any repeats, hope fucking not. Its hard to keep count it gave me a fucking migraine but i HATE doubles, it looks like your stacking the deck and bullshit like that.

SpaceDog: Yeah i sure as all hell don’t feel like counting. Reading the first list of fucks was exhausting and made me feel dirty.

Les: Lmfao Exactly. I figure if there just so happens to be a repeat no one will every notice unless they have some serious fucking OCD. Also .49 cent Sushi is My Wife’s new favorite band. I just created a word SLUNT. Definition: A Slutty Cunt.

+End Transmission+

Thanks for Reading,

Brought to You By,

SpaceDog

Les Sober

The Deviant Detective Ep 3 : Looking For The Cock Rock King

Rock kicked his feet up onto his desk with a solid thud. Rock picked up a copy of the local paper “The Fanatic” because you’d be surprised what ideas one can come up with by just reading the paper.

Rock flipped through the pages casually until he reached the back of the paper. At the back of “The Fanatic” was the local entertainment/art scene.

Rock never paid mind to the entertainment section it was all shit. Today though Rock realized he’d not only have to read the entertainment section, but also pay struck attention looking for any possible leads. His new client the underground self proclaimed Queen of Punk Ivy Savage had little patience and a huge fucking drug habit.

Rock scanned the concert section and found Ivy’s missing boyfriend Eddie Oi’s band The Fuck Me Pumps were scheduled to play that night down at a small hole in the wall called The Boozehound Lounge. The Boozehound was only a couple of blocks from The BarFly Bar which Ivy had mentioned as a possible hangout of Eddie’s.

Rock placed his feet back on the floor, downed 4 fingers of Kentucky White Whisky, lit a cigarette and exhaled with a labored sigh. Rock knew what he had to do. Rock called a cab and headed down to what was referred to as the dive district.

The dive district was a run down part of the city with abandoned factories, dive bars, shitty clubs, Soup kitchens, Hobo Haven (a tent city of sorts consisting of the cities many homeless), methadone clinics, the county mental health hospital, mom and pop liquor stores, Pawn shops, Strip clubs, Old school Porno theaters most converted into sex shops, the slums run by lecherous so called land lords, and the solid waste authority.

On the ride Rock decided it be best to pick the cabbies brain. Next to bartenders cabbies were the unofficial information sources of street knowledge the who’s, what’s, when’s and where’s the life blood of the city.

“Hey buddy how long you been driving the dive district route?,” inquired Rock

“22 years and thats 20 to damn many,” gripped the cabbie

“I’m looking for some punk rock guy named Eddie Oi. You know the prime punk scene hangouts and clubs?”

“Fuck that shit. The Fuck Me Pump’s aren’t punk rock, their fucking cock rock. your looking in the right neighborhood but wrong street if ya know what I’m saying pal.,”

“What in the name of Christ is Cock Rock?,” asked Rock as he reached for his trusty flask.

“Cock Rock,”said the cabbie “Its like punk rock, 3 chord shit played as fast as humanly possible. Instead of politics or social commentary Cock Rock is essentially a shitty porno put to music. Think 2 Live Crew but with guitars and all that shit.”

“Shit and I thought Punk was the soundtrack of the gutter but damn just like always theres something worse than what you think. Wheres a good place to start the search?” Rock wondered aloud.

“Easy you go to The BarFly Bar. When you get there ask for Bloody Sod Bollocks he’s the godfather of underground hardcore scene. He used to be in some famous British hardcore punk band back in the day called Shit Out of Luck or something like that. He’s been here in the city so long he knows every-fucking-body. You looking for a musical you go talk to Bloody Sod.” claimed the cabbie in utter confidence as he pulled up to the curb outside of The BarFly Bar.

Well isn’t that convenient as hell thought Rock. All signs seemed to point to The BarFly Bar and that would be Rock’s jumping off point. Rock exited the cab making sure to give the cabbie a hefty tip not for the ride but the information. Any asshole can drive a car.

The BarFly Bar looked like the kind of establishment one would expect to get stabbed in. The bar smelled foul like a locker room and a well used port-o-potty combined. Jesus Christ Rock thought I’ve been in shitty bars before but this is by far the shittiest. It’s like every other shitty bar came to The BarFly and took a massive shit in it.

The windows where blacked out to spare the bottom dwelling patrons having to face the light of day. Cigarette smoke hung in the air wafting around the lights like restless spirits. The bar was located to the left of the main entrance. The bar itself was lined with decreped and wobbly stools patched together with duct tape.

The bartender/owner was a stout man in his early 60’s whose collection of tattoos had deteriorated into sloppy blurs over the decades. His large gnarled hands with thick calluses spoke hard life of manual labor and long hours. The wrinkles in his face where etched through time like the feordes and ran just as deep.

The handful of patrons were spread through out the bar all of them alone. The exception being a middle aged couple who seemed oblivious to the world around them as the slobbered all over one another. It was the equivalent of watching a extremely shitty home made sex tape.

Rock saddled up to the bar preferring to stand over sitting on one of the STD ridden bar stools.

“Hey Bartender let me get 3 fingers of Westminster Whiskey and an ash tray while your at it,” Said Rock slowly rescanning the bar.

“I’m Gunny bartending is what I do.”replied Gunny as he angrily pulled the cork from the whiskey bottle “Ive got no problem letting you know that I don’t like dicks in my bar private or otherwise.”

“Well at least you didn’t say cop. I’m looking for Eddie Oi he owes my client money. Thats where I come in.”

“Who doesn’t that grimy little shit owe money to? I haven’t seen him since I 86ed his bar tab, and told him until he repays it all drinks will be on a cash transaction.”

“You have any idea where he might be Gunny?”

“Hell no. But Justin Sane the drummer in his little shit band is in the stock room.” said Gunny as he started to wipe down the warped bar top.

“What the hell is he doing in the stock room?” Rock asked downing his drink in one gulp before signaling for another.

“Some junkie groupie took him back there, sad the high light of this pitiful girls rough life will be sucking Justin’s baby dick in the back of a shitty bar.”

Rock downed his second drink in the same fashion as the first. Turned to face the stock room door at the back of the building. Rock steadily approached the stockroom door preparing for whatever maybe behind it. Rock stopped right in front of the door, grasped the greasy door knob firmly, and shoved it open like a steroid ridden line backer.

Stockroom more like storeroom is more like it Rock thought the instant the door gave way. None the less there was Justin propped up against a pallet of beer boxes with his red liberty spike mohawk, tattered leather vest infested with a collage of various band’s pins and patches, generic white t-shirt with a anarchy sign spray painted on it in a sickly green, slew of amateur India ink tattoos that gave way to the track marks beginning to establish themselves. His cut off jean shorts around his ankles while some skanky bleached blonde was on her knees in front of him her head bobbing like she’d been infected with a potent fast acting poison, and the only cure was located in Justin’s cock.

Before Rock had a chance to react all hell broke loose. Rock was grabbed from behind and thrown violently backward into the door frame . Ivy Savage came barreling past Rock in a goddamn flash, then she snatched the groupie by the hair and tossed her aside like a fucking rag doll. The instant the groupie was sent tumbling into a near by liquor rack Ivy dropped to her knees. She grabbed Justin’s massive member at the base with one hand and the tip with the other. What happened next defies logic. Ivy now with Justin’s huge lap hog in her hands bite down on it full force like she was rabidly attacking an ear of corn. Inspire of Gunny’s disparaging comments pertaining to the size of Justin’s “baby dick” Justin was hung like a goddamn donkey. The kid was 5′ 9″ and a 100 pounds soaking wet and 10 of those pounds were due to his dick Rock thought sarcastically. Justin’s porn star sized cock was inevitably too thick for Ivy to bite it clean in half which seemed to be her true intent.

In spite of Justin’s unforeseen girth Ivy earned her moniker of savage. Ivy gleefully started biting mouthfuls of Justin’s schlong spitting them out one after the other while screaming like a blood thirsty banshee “I’M IVY FUCKING SAVAGE! I’LL POISON YOU LIKE IVY AND BRUTALIZE YOU LIKE A FUCKING SAVAGE!!!!”

Rock had had enough of this bullshit for the day. The groupie cowering in a corner kicking and screaming, Ivy’s genital based cannibalism, and Justine guttural growls as blood splatter covered the entire room. Rock reached over and took a bottle of cheap rot gut booze and brought it crashing down upon Ivy’s head knocking out cold. Rock turned and exited the storeroom shutting the door behind him.

“Holy Hell what the fuck is going on in there?!!,” demanded Gunny scowling at Rock intensity.

“Gunny, your closed for the evening,” replied Rock with calculated calm before promptly leaving the confines of The BarFly for the soothing insanity of the city streets. Then it suddenly occurred he had failed to locate the so called underground godfather Bloody Sod Bolloks.

“Goddamn it! Shit,shit,shit!! Goddamn Bloody Sod!” Rock said aloud in utter frustration.

“You looking to find Bloody he’s at the Methadone Clinic everyday at 5pm to hook up his daily dose.” commented a disheveled homeless kid who was lurking in a dark doorway like a ghost of society.

“Thanks for the tip,” Rock said handing the homeless kid a twenty “Buy some fucking food. Don’t spend all this on dope or drink.”

“Sure thing,” the homeless kid chirped excitedly at the sight of the twenty.

Sure thing my ass thought Rock as he turned away from the kid and headed off towards the City’s sole methadone clinic at a quick clip.

To Be Continued…

The Deviant Detective Ep.4 : Shit Sandwich Lunch Special

Definition of Bottle Club

Bottle Club: A private drinking club; specifically, an association of people, often unknown to one another, for the sole purpose of providing themselves with liquor and a place to drink it after the legal closing hours of public bars or in a city or county where the public sale of alcoholic beverages is prohibited.

Side Note:

Bottle-Man: A drunkard or habitual drinker