on 3 April 2003 : 13:27, mike sez:
on 3 April 2003 : 18:53, ben sez:
Justin-
They call that "city-speak, guttertalk, a mishmash of Japanese, Spanish, German, what have you. I didn't really need a translator. I knew the lingo, every good cop did. But I wasn't going to make it easier for him."
on 3 April 2003 : 19:31, Damanda sez:
Wow, that sounds a little like my current divebar hang in LA. I won't mention the name of it, because my last divebar fave of 11 years I spoke freely of....then the beer prices went from $1.75 to $2.25 to $2.75 within the last year. Someone built a big ugly complex next to it where the Academy Awards are held. They soon got busted for not enforcing the smoking ban. (They haven't enforced it for the last 10 years). Then the friggin STROKES filmed a video there and it was all over.
My new divebar is Chinese owned, everyone smokes freely, drinks are cheap and there's always some creepy buffet of free food in the back. The jukebox sucks but whenever Michael Jackson comes on, people start screaming and old men start breakdancing...or trying to breakdance... a regular, an old Korean guy of at least 60 actually did the moonwalk the last time I was there. Having consumed many beers I stood on my chair and hooted my approval. Some other old guys at the bar tried to get me to dance with them which kinda worked for a while. A younger guy that works for UPS took off his shirt and started some sort of half-assed breakdance stripper dance crotch-thrusting performance when the owner of the bar ran out from the bar and started screaming at him. "OH NO! YOU STOP! TOO SEXY! TOO SEXY!" She didn't say it in a way that implied that she thought he was sexy...but in an angry way like his impromptu striptease offended her. She's such a nice old lady that she made us feel bad for cheering the guy on. He put his shirt back on and sat back down sheepishly. "BUTTON UP!" she yelled. She then turned the jukebox down lower and we listened to shitty Eagles songs the rest of the night.
on 3 April 2003 : 19:58, justin sez:
on 4 April 2003 : 00:50, Ben sez:
My favorite dive bar in LA was Mr. T's Bowling Alley in Highland Park. We would have tacos or burgers at "TV Cafe" (named after the fact that they had a TV), down a few CHEAP (like a $1) beers and cross the street to Mr. T's. They had CHEAP liquor too, but you needed to go in to the place with the proper attitude, to get the feeling right. Their was always low-budget punk rock or band thorwing their first gigs, but we alway went for the bar flies. These people were drinking when I was watching the great space coaster.
on 4 April 2003 : 13:17, Damanda sez:
SHHH!!! SHHHHH!!! SHHH!!!
It's bad enough Highland Park aint cheap rents no more. Mr. T's is still there and there's still always some broke-down punk rock band playing. The old white guys at the bar are still angry and still bitching about the music and the people that go in the back. You still have to pay for their stale popcorn but the end may be near...I think the Breeders or someone just played there.
My ex divebar which was ruined by the grotesque and abominable Hollywood & Highland complex (the architect that designed New York New York, the Luxor and Caesars Palace must have moved to LA...) will never be the same. I stopped in there about a month ago and just stared blankly at the drummer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers who was sitting in my regular seat, a booth that no one wants to sit in because the seat is ripped to shit and it's right next to the jukebox so you can't hear your friends. I had to smoosh my way in between people at the bar to order our drinks (that NEVER used to happen) and I noticed that one of the people at the bar played one of the "Lone Gunmen" on the X Files (the one that looked like a cross between Jay from Jay & Silent Bob and the guy from the Chemical Brothers). They've replaced the entire Pogues catalog in the jukebox with the inferior "Pogues Greatest Hits" which does not feature "Broad Majestic Shannon". Annoyingly, a Jack Daniels is around $7.00 so I'm getting screwed every time I buy a round. My friends and I have to satisy ourselves with banging our beer botttles on the table while yelling the lyrics to "Turkish Song of the Damned"...something that used be accepted and used to go largely unnoticed...but that now draws withering looks from people with faux-hawks and Marc Jacobs jackets. I stepped outside to smoke just as a white stretch limousine pulled up and a girl with a bunch of bows from presents taped all over her head and a bunch of other girls that looked like they were in a sorority came piling out of the car like drunk clowns.
"Where did you guys come from?!!!" I asked one of the tan girls in turquoise and white.
"Orange County! WOOOO!"
"You came all the way from Orange County to come to this bar?!!! How did you find it?"
"We're on a divebar crawl. This is Meghan, she's getting married! WOOO! I love you sister, WOOO!"
I can only assume that some ASSHOLE has created a divebar website that one of these girls looked up on the net. I think some information is better left unshared...unless you want Elijah Wood singing karaoke in your secret pirate themed wateringhole in Koreatown or Elliot Smith eavesdropping on your sex conversations with your girlfriends in a place that was formerly an empty old-man bar or if it's ok that you can no longer smoke in the bar around the corner from your house which used to be a gay leather daddy bar because so many people started stalking Kiefer Sutherland there.
Treasure your divebars, people... keep them safe.
on 5 April 2003 : 10:00, ben sez:
I think what this calls for is the time honored tradition of the "speakeasy". Instead of having an actual "bar" location, you have a liquor collection on wheels that sets up in the backs of petshops and dry cleaners and medical supply outlets. We track the invited guests by mail-list. And the old lady, old Korean guy, and old white guy (owners respectivly) get a little of the take. Should be easier now, because it's not illegal. Hey, it's a thought.
on 27 April 2003 : 08:29, hadi sez: