People need to stop worrying about nonsense...

And concentrate on the goods things in life. I can think of three of them right off the bat.

Well four actually.

I don't often drink beer......

Well not often enough for my taste.

But I have been pretty busy so I took some time at the Mexican restaurant to enjoy some Dos Equis.

And you know who was sitting at the table across from me?

Sixto. With Cal Ripken's Mom.

Attention, Attention....New Comment Policy

It has come to my attention due to some emails of postings on other parts of the intertubes that some bloggers are wishing that they could charge for the privilege of commenting. It seems that it is not enough that they can censor and delete your comments and control what you have to say but they would be happy to charge you for the privilege of commenting on their blog.

You know that sounds like a good idea.

So I am going to do the same.

From now on it will cost you one beer to make a comment on the Trooper York blog. It doesn't matter what kind. Of course the short pity ones by AllenS would be charged a PBR or a Gennesse Cream Ale while the longer opus of Tim or Ritmo would require an imported or micro brew. Oh and no Heineken. That shit tastes like Wolverine piss. Or Corona which is about 60% Mexican piss.

Since I will not be able to collect them from you there is only one solution. You should drink the beer yourself. So for every comment you make here you should have yourself a cold one.

Since it doesn't cost anything to run this website why would I want to charge you for it. I would have to be a stupid greedy cunt to do something like that.

Oh.

Nevermind.

(PS with this new policy of getting a beer for every comment I expect to hear a lot more from AllenS and Sixty)

Everybody loves Ocktoberfest

That's right Hossaroni.

I had some of Sam Adams Ocktoberfest ale last night as well as some Pumpkin Ale and they were great.

I love Ocktoberfest!

Remembrances of Things Pabst.

One of the joints I used to meet my English friend (who married the popular girl) downtown was called Volks. It was on Trinity Place all the way downtown near the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel. Now it was a big time lunch place. Back in the late seventies and early eighties a lot of people in the back offices would go tie one on at lunch since they were so bored posting stock transactions. Computers were just coming in and it wasn't all trading all the time. It was a lot more relaxed. So a lot of people could get away with a liquid lunch.

Now as the name implies, Volks was an old school German joint which made it different than the run of the mill Irish joints we used to hang in. They had a full menu of brawts and schetizel and all that stuff. But what was really on the menu was the Spaten Munich wheat beer in the tall 22 oz. glass. You see they sold the wheat beer by the bottle and it just about fit in their tall glasses if you poured it perfectly. The bartender would put a slice of lemon in it and pour it out in one shot. Now there is a trick to it much like pouring a Guinness. His gimmick was if you could pour it yourself with all of it in the glass on the first shot you got the beer for free.Of course he wouldn't let you do that with the first drink when you had a chance. It would always be three or four beers into the night where you over confident and half in the bag since you downed all of that beer in about fifteen minutes when you just got in and was really parched.

Now since it was a lunch place the regulars would come in for one or two after work on a Friday but head home to Staten Island or whatever. So we would roll and start pounding the beers and the bartender wanted us to stay and spend because he could keep the bar open and maybe make some more money. Plus we were monster tippers and big spenders so they were always happy to see us.

Anyway, one day in the spring I got there and was feeling pissed because of stuff at work. My buddy was having his usual marriage problems and we just started pounding the beers. In a basically out of control way. The kitchen was already closed so all we had to eat were pretzels. We spent about four hours in there drinking fit to beat the band. Finally we started to slow down and they decided to close the bar. We staggered outside to get a cab back to Brooklyn. But as I was walking I slipped on the two inch curb and fell flat on my back right in the gutter. Didn't get hurt because when you are that drunk nothing hurts you. I looked up at my buddy and said "Sister Mary Francis was right all along, I ended up in the gutter."

Then I got up and we kept on drinking.

Remembrance of things Pabst

We used to hit this hard core Spanish place on Atlantic Avenue called Fuente Unido when the other bars were too crowded. It was always empty and was owned by this enormously fat guy who was in a wheel chair. He always had the hottest young Latina bartenders though, almost always underage. The bar was usually empty I think he got a real late crowd. He did have a great pool table there that you could get into a nice money game. Some of those Spanish dudes were real good though so it didn't pay to play with someone you didn't know. Later the guy sold the bar to Julio from Julio's place after he had to move when they knocked down the bar. Then it became a couple different bars, I think one called Magnetic Field where I heard there was a lot of drugs going on but I don't know if that is true.

I always think of Fuente Unido at tournament time because we saw that famous game where Duke won on a great catch and shoot by Christian Laetner one year. We all saw it on a tiny TV that they had rigged up for the night. It was a hoot.

Oh and the owner in the wheelchair had these two little dogs that kind of look like the one in the picture. I wonder?

Oh yeah AJ, well the Eagles still suck.

That's right. They suck. On the field. On the beers. On the you know what's.

What a bunch of tittie babies.

Newcastle Brown can sure smack you down.

chicago green, talkin' 'bout Black Lebanese

A dirty room and a silver coke spoon

Give me my release,

come on Black napalese,

it's got you weak in your knees

Just seeds and dust that you got bust on

You know it's hard to believe

30 days in the hole

That's what they give you I know

Newcastle Brown, I'm tellin' you, it can sure smack you down

Take a greasy whore and a rollin' dance floor

It's got your head spinnin' round

If you live on the road, well there's a new highway code

You take the urban noise with some Durban Poison

It's gonna lessen your load What you doin' boy?

You here for 30 days

Get, get, get your long hair cut And cut out your ways

Black napalese, it got you weak in your knees

Just seeds and dust that you got bust on

You know it's so hard to please

Newcastle Brown can sure smack you down

You take a greasy whore and a rollin' dance floor

You know you're jailhouse-bound30 days in the hole