Quietly lurking in the darkness of 19th Street just off Bevis is our new favorite watering hole, Ron's Big Star Bar. A triumph of elegance and class, there are no amenities left to be desired save for employed single straight women and sanitized needles. The bar, relative to square feet, is rather midgety and can get crowded, but unlike nearby Cedar Creek and her sister Onion the bartenders here give a shit and don't appear to have any agenda other than slangin' drank.
Among the Star's most excellent features are the jukebox, which doesn't require an arm or leg and plays only what's in it (fuck that download shit) and the Hefner-inspired Third Base Lounge where street craps and heavy petting are welcomed.
Outside you'll discover a modest firepit handy during the three days of annual cold, a store room housing extra wood and dead nutrea, and an even more handy metal awning sure to disintegrate into home and skull puncturing missiles next hurrican season.
On the highly sophisticated Lords Scale (1 to 1,000) we award the Star with 762 for high marks on atmosphere and service and failing grades in lavatory disease presence (though you should be too drunk to notice the fruit flies in the toilet you're puking in). Regardless, we'll be having many Lords-sponsored events at the Star and hope you all can make it.
2 comments:
I haven't seen photographs like this since our covert-Honduran operation in '85.
Great review.
Although we love it, we've walked into a handicapped stall at the airport and it's reminded us of RBSB.
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