Ummm...that's not bartending. That's juggling.

Impressive juggling, to be sure, but not bartending.

>> ^possom:

http://www.politifact.com/truth
-o-meter/promises/obameter/promise/316/increase-the-minimum-wage-to-950-an-hour/


Politifact is almost trustworthy if you ignore their topline ratings, and just read the associated analysis.

From that link:

There are at least two House bills that would increase the minimum wage in some respect. The WAGE Act would set a base minimum wage for tipped employees such as waiters and bartenders. If enacted this bill would raise the minimum cash wage of such employees (excluding tips) over time from $2.13 to $5.50 an hour. Meanwhile, the Living American Wage Act of 2011 would tie the minimum wage level to the poverty threshold for a family of two individuals. Both bills were introduced early in the year and seem to be stalled in committee. The chances of either passing in committee, much less in a full vote in the House, are remote given the Republican majority.

The bartender's face at 1:51 gave me a start!

>> ^HugeJerk:

What's the Parappa reference? Is it the thing that moves out of view from behind the dogs just as the soldiers enter?
>> ^Shepppard:
So, this video makes reference to:
CoD (or, generic WWII shooters), Twisted Metal, Parappa the Rappa, Little Big Planet, Ratchet and Clank, Final Fantasy, Killzone, Uncharted, God of War, Portal, Infamous, Tekken, MLB/NFL generic games, Metal Gear, Modern Warfare 3, Dead Space, Bioshock, Hitman, Resistance and Assassins Creed.
Not sure if the bartender is supposed to be from somewhere, though.



Nope, that's the Mk.II or III, whichever is in MGS4, the parappa is on the wall behind the chick in the booth, it's just a crappy little drawing, but it's a dog in a red hat with a purple shirt.

Pause at 31 seconds, just before it switches back to the two soldiers, he's on the right side.

What's the Parappa reference? Is it the thing that moves out of view from behind the dogs just as the soldiers enter?

>> ^Shepppard:

So, this video makes reference to:
CoD (or, generic WWII shooters), Twisted Metal, Parappa the Rappa, Little Big Planet, Ratchet and Clank, Final Fantasy, Killzone, Uncharted, God of War, Portal, Infamous, Tekken, MLB/NFL generic games, Metal Gear, Modern Warfare 3, Dead Space, Bioshock, Hitman, Resistance and Assassins Creed.
Not sure if the bartender is supposed to be from somewhere, though.

Cid! the bartender is Cid!

Wonderful ad, most ad's that bring together fan characters from different universes come off cheesy but this one did real well.

So, this video makes reference to:

CoD (or, generic WWII shooters), Twisted Metal, Parappa the Rappa, Little Big Planet, Ratchet and Clank, Final Fantasy, Killzone, Uncharted, God of War, Portal, Infamous, Tekken, MLB/NFL generic games, Metal Gear, Modern Warfare 3, Dead Space, Bioshock, Hitman, Resistance and Assassins Creed.

Not sure if the bartender is supposed to be from somewhere, though.

>> ^legacy0100:

Anna Kasparin II?


Is she Armenian too? Doesn't look it.

>> ^gwiz665:

Bukowski wrote that? Huh, guess I should reevaluate my position on him.


This is one of my favorite short stories of all time:

http://plagiarist.com/poetry/194/

Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her body. Her spirit was either very high or very low. There was no in between for Cass. Some said she was crazy. The dull ones said that. The dull ones would never understand Cass. To the men she was simply a sex machine and they didn't care whether she was crazy or not. And Cass danced and flirted, kissed the men, but except for an instance or two, when it came time to make it with Cass, Cass had somehow slipped away, eluded the men.

Her sisters accused her of misusing her beauty, of not using her mind enough, but Cass had mind and spirit; she painted, she danced, she sang, she made things of clay, and when people were hurt either in the spirit or the flesh, Cass felt a deep grieving for them. Her mind was simply different; her mind was simply not practical. Her sisters were jealous of her because she attracted their men, and they were angry because they felt she didn't make the best use of them. She had a habit of being kind to the uglier ones; the so-called handsome men revolted her- "No guts," she said, "no zap. They are riding on their perfect little earlobes and well- shaped nostrils...all surface and no insides..." She had a temper that came close to insanity, she had a temper that some call insanity. Her father had died of alcohol and her mother had run off leaving the girls alone. The girls went to a relative who placed them in a convent. The convent had been an unhappy place, more for Cass than the sisters. The girls were jealous of Cass and Cass fought most of them. She had razor marks all along her left arm from defending herself in two fights. There was also a permanent scar along the left cheek but the scar rather than lessening her beauty only seemed to highlight it. I met her at the West End Bar several nights after her release from the convent. Being youngest, she was the last of the sisters to be released. She simply came in and sat next to me. I was probably the ugliest man in town and this might have had something to do with it.

"Drink?" I asked.

"Sure, why not?"

I don't suppose there was anything unusual in our conversation that night, it was simply in the feeling Cass gave. She had chosen me and it was as simple as that. No pressure. She liked her drinks and had a great number of them. She didn't seem quite of age but they served he anyhow. Perhaps she had forged i.d., I don't know. Anyhow, each time she came back from the restroom and sat down next to me, I did feel some pride. She was not only the most beautiful woman in town but also one of the most beautiful I had ever seen. I placed my arm about her waist and kissed her once.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.

"Yes, of course, but there's something else... there's more than your looks..."

"People are always accusing me of being pretty. Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty isn't the word, it hardly does you fair."

Cass reached into her handbag. I thought she was reaching for her handkerchief. She came out with a long hatpin. Before I could stop her she had run this long hatpin through her nose, sideways, just above the nostrils. I felt disgust and horror. She looked at me and laughed, "Now do you think me pretty? What do you think now, man?" I pulled the hatpin out and held my handkerchief over the bleeding. Several people, including the bartender, had seen the act. The bartender came down:

"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need your dramatics here."

"Oh, fuck you, man!" she said.

"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.

"She'll be all right," I said.

"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."

"No," I said, "it hurts me."

"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"

"Yes, it does, I mean it."

"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."

She kissed me, rather grinning through the kiss and holding the handkerchief to her nose. We left for my place at closing time. I had some beer and we sat there talking. It was then that I got the perception of her as a person full of kindness and caring. She gave herself away without knowing it. At the same time she would leap back into areas of wildness and incoherence. Schitzi. A beautiful and spiritual schitzi. Perhaps some man, something, would ruin her forever. I hoped that it wouldn't be me. We went to bed and after I turned out the lights Cass asked me,

"When do you want it? Now or in the morning?"

"In the morning," I said and turned my back.

In the morning I got up and made a couple of coffees, brought her one in bed. She laughed.

"You're the first man who has turned it down at night."

"It's o.k.," I said, "we needn't do it at all."

"No, wait, I want to now. Let me freshen up a bit."

Cass went into the bathroom. She came out shortly, looking quite wonderful, her long black hair glistening, her eyes and lips glistening, her glistening... She displayed her body calmly, as a good thing. She got under the sheet.

"Come on, lover man."

I got in. She kissed with abandon but without haste. I let my hands run over her body, through her hair. I mounted. It was hot, and tight. I began to stroke slowly, wanting to make it last. Her eyes looked directly into mine.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"What the hell difference does it make?" she asked.

I laughed and went on ahead. Afterwards she dressed and I drove her back to the bar but she was difficult to forget. I wasn't working and I slept until 2 p.m. then got up and read the paper. I was in the bathtub when she came in with a large leaf- an elephant ear.

"I knew you'd be in the bathtub," she said, "so I brought you something to cover that thing with, nature boy."

She threw the elephant leaf down on me in the bathtub.

"How did you know I'd be in the tub?"

"I knew."

Almost every day Cass arrived when I was in the tub. The times were different but she seldom missed, and there was the elephant leaf. And then we'd make love. One or two nights she phoned and I had to bail her out of jail for drunkenness and fighting.

"These sons of bitches," she said, "just because they buy you a few drinks they think they can get into your pants."

"Once you accept a drink you create your own trouble."

"I thought they were interested in me, not just my body."

"I'm interested in you and your body. I doubt, though, that most men can see beyond your body."

I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when she walked in and sat down next to me.

"Well, bastard, I see you've come back."

I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into her face.

"God damn you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?"

"No, it's the fad, you fool."

"You're crazy."

"I've missed you," she said.

"Is there anybody else?"

"No there isn't anybody else. Just you. But I'm hustling. It costs ten bucks. But you get it free."

"Pull those pins out."

"No, it's the fad."

"It's making me very unhappy."

"Are you sure?"

"Hell yes, I'm sure."

Cass slowly pulled the pins out and put them back in her purse.

"Why do you haggle your beauty?" I asked. "Why don't you just live with it?"

"Because people think it's all I have. Beauty is nothing, beauty won't stay. You don't know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you you know it's for something else."

"O.k.," I said, "I'm lucky."

"I don't mean you're ugly. People just think you're ugly. You have a fascinating face."

"Thanks."

We had another drink.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Nothing. I can't get on to anything. No interest."

"Me neither. If you were a woman you could hustle."

"I don't think I could ever make contact with that many strangers, it's wearing."

"You're right, it's wearing, everything is wearing."

We left together. People still stared at Cass on the streets. She was a beautiful woman, perhaps more beautiful than ever. We made it to my place and I opened a bottle of wine and we talked. With Cass and I, it always came easy. She talked a while and I would listen and then i would talk. Our conversation simply went along without strain. We seemed to discover secrets together. When we discovered a good one Cass would laugh that laugh- only the way she could. It was like joy out of fire. Through the talking we kissed and moved closer together. We became quite heated and decided to go to bed. It was then that Cass took off her high -necked dress and I saw it- the ugly jagged scar across her throat. It was large and thick.

"God damn you, woman," I said from the bed, "god damn you, what have you done?

"I tried it with a broken bottle one night. Don't you like me any more? Am I still beautiful?"

I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. She pushed away and laughed, "Some men pay me ten and I undress and they don't want to do it. I keep the ten. It's very funny."

"Yes," I said, "I can't stop laughing... Cass, bitch, I love you...stop destroying yourself; you're the most alive woman I've ever met."

We kissed again. Cass was crying without sound. I could feel the tears. The long black hair lay beside me like a flag of death. We enjoined and made slow and somber and wonderful love. In the morning Cass was up making breakfast. She seemed quite calm and happy. She was singing. I stayed in bed and enjoyed her happiness. Finally she came over and shook me,

"Up, bastard! Throw some cold water on your face and pecker and come enjoy the feast!"

I drove her to the beach that day. It was a weekday and not yet summer so things were splendidly deserted. Beach bums in rags slept on the lawns above the sand. Others sat on stone benches sharing a lone bottle. The gulls whirled about, mindless yet distracted. Old ladies in their 70's and 80's sat on the benches and discussed selling real estate left behind by husbands long ago killed by the pace and stupidity of survival. For it all, there was peace in the air and we walked about and stretched on the lawns and didn't say much. It simply felt good being together. I bought a couple of sandwiches, some chips and drinks and we sat on the sand eating. Then I held Cass and we slept together about an hour. It was somehow better than lovemaking. There was flowing together without tension. When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End Bar. I sat and waited for Cass. Hours went by . After I was fairly drunk the bartender said to me, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I'm sorry, didn't you know?"

"No."

"Suicide. She was buried yesterday."

"Buried?" I asked. It seemed as though she would walk through the doorway at any moment. How could she be gone?

"Her sisters buried her."

"A suicide? Mind telling me how?"

"She cut her throat."

"I see. Give me another drink."

I drank until closing time. Cass was the most beautiful of 5 sisters, the most beautiful in town. I managed to drive to my place and I kept thinking, I should have insisted she stay with me instead of accepting that "no." Everything about her had indicated that she had cared. I simply had been too offhand about it, lazy, too unconcerned. I deserved my death and hers. I was a dog. No, why blame the dogs? I got up and found a bottle of wine and drank from it heavily. Cass the most beautiful girl in town was dead at 20. Outside somebody honked their automobile horn. They were very loud and persistent. I sat the bottle down and screamed out: "GOD DAMN YOU, YOU SON OF A BITCH ,SHUT UP!" The night kept coming and there was nothing I could do.

ok.
i have stated this previously and in multiple posts.
lets define "god" for a moment.
and lets accomplish this without any religious influence or overtures...none.
because lets be honest,religion acts like it has the secret key to the hidden doorway.
which i find not only repulsive but dishonest.

lets see if we can agree on a few things.i shall use the monotheistic religions as example because using all 4500 would be..tedious:
1.god implies masculine.this is obviously a falsehood.why would god need sexual organs?
2.we are all made in gods image.again a falsehood.having never seen god how can we know?
3.the bible/q'ran is the written word of god.(i wont include the torah because jews do not make that pronouncement).again this is false,some basic research will reveal this statement to be an utter fallacy.unless of course you are a fundamentalist,and in that case..carry on with your wars of attrition /looking at you fundmantalist christians and muslims).
4.god loves you.unless you break these rules and in that case he has built a special place for you to burn for eternity (varying degrees of understanding here,even fundamentalists struggle with this obvious hypocrisy).conclusion=bullshit.


ok.i am going to stop because i could do this all day.
my basic point is that it is RELIGION that makes the claim that it is THEY who hold the keys to the gate.that only through THEIR understanding could any of lowly humans ever think to have salvation.
religion is man-made with tangible texts,doctrine and dogma and in being so is subject to criticism.as it SHOULD be.
these institutions define god and then attempt to compel through fear and..well..fear..to get people to comply.
in my opinion it is these very institutions which hinder the growth and development of us all as a species.
fundamentalism is the stunting of the spirit and the stagnation of the mind.
none of what i am saying here takes away from the poetry,literature and wisdom from the bible..it is RELIGION which perpetrates that crime.

everybody still with me?
am i making sense?
ok..now lets define god and lets do it in a way that religion will never do because it will make those institutions irrelevant.
(which ironically was the EXACT thing jesus was attempting to do..but i digress)
lets consider "god" an entity with immense consciousness.
let us for a moment imagine this consciousness giving birth to the universe from itself.
what is the first thing to come in to existence besides energy?
time.
and when that happened what else became evident?
everything became relative due to this added dimension.
let that sink in a bit because it has huge implications.
ok..
now if we continue on this thread of thought.this would mean that the universe is literally god.
every molecule.
every atom.
god.
and what if this creator put out only one simple edict for his construct?
create.
thats all.he sets the rules and puts only one line of code=create.
and everything his creations creates is part of him and he..it.
good..evil..arbitrary terms used to relate subjective realities focused from a singular perspective.
the creator does not notice them because all of it is the same to the creator.
WE make those very human definitions.
lets imagine for a second that the universe has a consciousness.one that we may be aware or unaware of,but we know we are an individual.
we have consciousness.
we do NOT know if a plant has a consciousness that we can measure but we may some day.
now if we are a part of this incredible creation called the universe and we have consciousness.this means we are aware of not only ourselves but the universe around us.
this means we experience creation on a daily basis.manifesting in so many dynamic ways:love,loss,anger,violence,wonder,imagination,making love,cheeseburgers with a cold beer etc etc
and in that light would not the creator experience its own creation subjectively through our experiencing his creation?

now this is not a new idea,in fact it is quite old but it does have the quality of not needing any religion,nor doctrine or dogma.
why not?
because in essence YOU are god and god is YOU.
if i had postulated something like this as early as 100 yrs ago i would be burned at the stake.
why? religion.
but this is the basic definition i use when i use the term "god".
it is also the reason why i have no urge to preach or proselytize.
the only thing i try to do is recognize that i do not hold the key nor the answers but i seek them and that is my path.
yours is your own and the only thing i can do is recognize that you are a spiritual being (whether you believe that or not) and respect your choices on how you wish to live.
because..in the end..they are YOUR choices.

now please understand i share this with you not to convince or to invite ridicule but rather to offer a different definition.
to me life is amazing in the very simple act of breathing.
of loving..
and arguing..ah..many thanks for those in my life for the glorious arguments.
this life is precious if only for those simple things.
is there an afterlife?
i believe so,what it looks like i have no idea but i know it wont be THIS life.
so cherish those who you care about because this is one helluva ride,and i am glad you all are here to enjoy it with me.

for those of you still here.
thanks for coming to the show!
dont forget to tip your bartenders and waitresses!
and thank YOU BRM for taking the time to discuss things of this nature with me.

i bartend. i agree.

>> ^dhdigital:

i understand the point you are making, but the general public typically does not. I'm not trying to short you or screw you over. I'm just doing my job properly. It is just too common we have glasses that make me and other bartenders look like we are skimping the customer. The goal is to make a drink visually appealing to the guest -- regardless of glass. All of us have to move the glass with the fluid in it.
hell, push-up bras are more frauds then our glassware.


Really? http://videosift.com/video/Ballpark-Beer-Scam-Oakland-Coliseum-Sham

i understand the point you are making, but the general public typically does not. I'm not trying to short you or screw you over. I'm just doing my job properly. It is just too common we have glasses that make me and other bartenders look like we are skimping the customer. The goal is to make a drink visually appealing to the guest -- regardless of glass. All of us have to move the glass with the fluid in it.

hell, push-up bras are more frauds then our glassware.

>> ^dhdigital:

most martinis/manhattens are only suppose to be 4oz. Beer is suppose to have head. I have a general rule to keep a distance from the top so I can move quickly. It is also there so people (bartenders, wait staff, & unsteady hand of the customer) don't have to move so very carefully due to a threat of spillage a vertically challenged 'person' would appear & club them at the knees.
Actually the jackasses that ask for the drink to be topped off deserve that. Typically they spill the second they get the drink.


The point is not that they should top the glass off no matter what, it's that if it were a 5" tall cylindrical glass, you could leave, say, 1" of empty and it would be 1/5 of the glass whereas it comes out to 1/2 in a cone.

most martinis/manhattens are only suppose to be 4oz. Beer is suppose to have head. I have a general rule to keep a distance from the top so I can move quickly. It is also there so people (bartenders, wait staff, & unsteady hand of the customer) don't have to move so very carefully due to a threat of spillage a vertically challenged 'person' would appear & club them at the knees.

Actually the jackasses that ask for the drink to be topped off deserve that. Typically they spill the second they get the drink.