Saint Patrick's Day - Ireland 32, Johnny's, and Hermosillo

"I wish you health, I wish you well, and happiness galore.
I wish you luck for you and friends; what could I wish you more?
May your joys be as deep as the oceans, your troubles as light as its foam.
And may you find, sweet peace of mind, where ever you may roam."

The band, the Shenanigans, opened with this toast Sunday, 9:42 am. With raised glasses the crowd let out a resounding: "Slainte!"

Ireland 32 opened their doors at 8:00 am by the time I go there at 8:50 am the place was packed, standing room only. Fortunately, I found myself a little place to put down my drinks and my Irish breakfast. Like any good Irish place there were authentic Irishman and Irish woman tending the bar. I had been here before on a Friday afternoon and Allan was serving. Like any good Irishman he enjoyed boxing and football. Today, all the Irish were about and the bar was open to the wee little people. By wee little people, I mean kids, like all authentic Irish bars you can bring your kids in with you while you have a pint or two. The only Irish place I know that also allows kids in is Griffins of Kinsale. By 9:00 am the place was already loud and boisterous.

First Glass of Guiness-Slainte!

Irish car bomb - Slainte! I forgot to take a picture of the bottle of Magners (Irish cider very popular at Ireland 32).

Irish breakfast:  Black pudding, white pudding, sausages, bacon, eggs, backed beans, roasted tomato, brown soda bread and butter.

This was an expensive early morning St. Patty's Day celebration: $10 cover charge at the door, $10 Irish breakfast, $8 for the Guiness, $10 for the Irish car bomb, and $8 for the Magners Irish cider. $46 for the morning, throw in the tip its about $50. They do a bit of price gouging on St. Patty's day,  Guiness is normally $5.00. I had to take a mid-morning nap just to recover.

After my nap, I headed out again. I caught the Metro Red line at the No Ho station, sometime at 3:30 pm. My plan was to hit all the Irish bars via the Metro. I got off at the 7th and Figueroa station. I popped my head out like a gopher to check out the action at Dublin's, there was line about half a block long just to get into the local "Irish" bar. Forget that and I might as well forget about going to Griffins of Kinsale. Might as well go to the Hermosillo. I got back on the Red Line, transferred to the Gold Line and got off at the Highland Park station. I walked over to the Hermosillo about 1/2 mile but the bar was not open. So I walked down to Johnny's.

Holy shit! The place was packed. On a typical lazy Sunday afternoon there would be at the most 5 guys at the bar. But the place was packed. There was a line just to get beer. I do get antsy/impatient before my first beer and my moxy will pretty much show because I'll start waving my hands and trying to flag down the barkeep. Fortunately, I was only behind one guy. Two girls were tending bar Joanna and Lana. The girls looked like suicide girls, if you know that look. I decided to double fist it i.e. take two beers in hand and find a place to drink, who knows how long before I have to wait for another brew.

Green Beer and Guiness

The guy who was ahead of me, his name is Brian and we got to talking. We started talking about the bars in the area and the history of  the bar. Johnny's used to be known as the Wild Hare. It also used be a cop bar. In the 80's, the bar  was the watering hole for cops from the Highland Park station. The Highland Park station is now a police museum. 

There were some wild times at the bar. Brian said once in a while one of the girls would get drunk and perform a strip tease and go shirtless. Another time, a girl was passed out in the ladies room totally naked and they had to call an ambulance. Back in the bad old days, you couldn't get into the men's restroom because somebody would be in there doing drugs.

Then I segued into a bar in Sunland where the guy in the restroom would deal drugs... Brian says "Yeah, I know that one"...I used to get me coke from the guy in the men's restroom. The place is a paisa bar. There would be these paisa girls who would preform illegal lap dances for money and if the price was right you could take one of these paisa girls with you. (Where the hell is this place?! I thought. I could be like Sir Galahad on the quest for the Holy Grail in some perverse obscene alternate universe.) Brian said, "One time, I took my girl friend there to make a buy. I told her to stay in the car. This is going to be quick." The girl friend said you're not to leaving me in the car and wanted to see what was going on inside. So Brain goes to bathroom and comes out with a vial for $20. When he comes out some paisa girl has one leg up on the bar and some borracho is performing cunnilingus on her. The girl says to Brian so this is why you come, its not for the coke its for the paisa action.

Brian left he had to catch the Laker game. So instead of a pool table Johnny's had a ping pong table. The city won't allow Johnny's to operate a pool table without a license. Another creative way the city of Los Angeles generates income for itself. I was up for the challenge and wanted to play the winner. So I got to play and naturally I lost because I had a self imposed handicap of one green beer and three Guinesses in me, not to mention the winner refused to present the ball when he served. (Ping pong cheats I hate them.) The best part of drunken ping pong is my accidental whacking of some girl's glass filled with beer. The glass with beer shatters on the floor. A crowd erupts with a loud caterwauling, "Wwwooooohhhhoooo!!!" I play it off by going after the loose ping pong ball. James the bouncer comes over but doesn't bounce me and instead does does clean up  on aisle # 9. Cool another reason to fall in love with Johnny's.

I started walking back up the street. I avoided going into the York, a bit yuppie for me and found out the Hermosillo was open. Yes. I was famished and wanted something really hoppy.

Hopocaplypse

I asked if they had any corned beef in celebration of St. Patrick's Day. The former paisa bar, Hermosillo, had corned beef and cabbage. Score!!

Corned beef and cabbage with country Dijon style mustard.

I took the 83 bus line to connect with the Metro Gold line which connected to the Red Line. The only thing of interest was at the Hollywood and Vine, St. Patty's Day revelers came on board the train
 with their loud boisterousness. I had pretty much sobered up but still enjoyed their merriment. I got to bed by 10:30 pm.

Footsies in Highland Park

I only heard about Footsies from a girl on okcupid.com. I've always roamed the Highland park neighborhood and I had seriously overlooked this place. I took the Red line to the Gold line and got off at the Lincoln/Cypress station.

Eagle Rock Imperial IPA, double the hops.

My expectations were that this was just going to be a paisa bar. Since it was so close to Broadway, where there are a bunch of paisa bars. Gladly, I was proven wrong because they had a good selection of craft beers. Some guy from the bar says, "Don't I recognize your? You were at  the Verdugo, right?" I didn't recognize him, until I remembered he was one of the guys Lisette was chatting up at the Verdugo. Rene and I talked about the bars in the area and how the bar culture has really flourished as the Highland Park, Frogtown,and Eagle Rock area became more gentrified. Rene works in Compton doing sales for some auto parts place, he came here on his scooter.

Allagash black stout, aged in bourbon barrels very sweet, yet malty.

Some guy with crutches showed me his video of him at the beach jumping off a rock and crushing his heels on the sand. I got talking to Raymundo he talked about how he went to an all boys catholic school. He said it was self imposed because he realized he was such a rotten kid. The catholic school he went to was Don Bosco.

An old standard, Yeti.

Don Bosco had this reciprocity agreement with Immaculate Heart where they would allow the sexes to mingle and get to know each other. This blew my mind because I thought the priests had mutually exclusive rights on all the boys at their school and all the nuns had mutually exclusive rights to the girls at their school.

Pork cutlet with egg over rice, koika, ocha, and a large sapporo beer.

I decided to sober up at Suehiro's, well not really because I was having a large Sapporo.

Crazy Harry's (dropping LSD & meeting HS Thompson)

On March 14, 2013: at my usual, Crazy Harry's I didn't have any photos, my SD card wouldn't mount up on my phone. I was there with Richard and Merideth (regulars at the bar). We talked about beer, Pliny the Younger and Merideth's financial insecurities. Another regular came in and we got to talking about beer, the Yardhouse in Northridge and Yelp.com. The regular started satirizing the people who Yelp by doing a pretty good imitation of the comic book guy from the Simpson. "In reference to Crazy Harry's, the service was not up to par because the napkins were not folded in the correct orgami swan style. Further, there was a pubic hair in my beer."

March 7, 2013: At Crazy Harry's again the workers from First Bank (regulars) were here making for a sizable crowd.

Hangar 24, IPA

Lagunitas, IPA

 What was memorable about the evening was some worker from First Bank was talking about how he had gotten his credit card bill down to $2,500.00. Then his office mate started razing him, "Yeah, that's what you said last year. Then you got yourself a playstation, wheels for your car, and a DUI."

Old Guardian

Hangar 24. Peachy and lightly hoppsed.

I was talking to Tim who called himself a shaman. I've met two other shamans before like Tim (but that's another story). Tim talked about how all tempoarilities are occuring at once and it reminded mye of the unified theory that all events have equal probability of occurring. But as creatures within one time sphere we only can relate to it within our own temporality. Tim said when he was in NYC he had met Hunter S. Thompson at some roof top party. He met Hunter after he had dropped some acid. I believe this is wholeheartedly true,  because Hunter and Timothy Leary will magically appear for anyone who has  dropped acid.

Old Rasputin. I forgot take a pic of the bratwurst.

Water

The Verdugo (Trivia Night), Hermosillo

I was hoping to bump into Lisette. Unbeknownst to me it was Trivia Night at the Verdugo. Great, I thought I love trivia. The bad part is I came in late and they were more than half way into it and what made it worse was almost all guys were playing. I consoled myself by drinking heavily.

Art of Darkenss - a stout (I believe)

How many Blade Runner film release have there been? Seven.

Hopocalypse

In the video game Super Mario Brothers, Mario is a plumber, what was his original profession before the creators changed it to plumber? Carpenter. In the TV series:  The Walking Dead, in what state does the series take place in? Georgia, specifically Atlanta, Georgia.

Pliny the Elder

What rock star played a porn star in David Lynch's film "Lost Highway"? Marilyn Manson. Sidenote: Henry Rollins also a punk rock star played a prison guard in "Lost Highway". Who was the last female contestant winner in American Idol?  Jordan Sparks.

Norwal stout by Sierra Nevada. Sweet, malty, flowery and bitter (hopsy).

On the Sunset Strip, the night club known as the Avalon was formerly known as this musical venue? The Palace.

I was being checked out by a girl who happened to walk in, but she was here for what was her first date with some guy.  Apparently, he was trying to impress her with how special the Pliny the Younger is. I agreed it was special and I told Fausto's story. The guy bought the girl a take gift of Pliny the Elder which cost $9.00.

I left and headed for the Hermosillo.

Noble Rot. Saison. Good aromatics and hopsy.

For a Tuesday, the Hermosillo had a good crowd. Three other people I recognize from the Verdugo walked in.  Stefan, Daniel, and Iolene. They tried to get into the York, but they were denied entry because they were too drunk. I was getting too far gone myself and decided I should call it a night. Stefan, Daniel and Iolene said they were going to La Cuevita. Good luck. I really thought they were too drunk to get there. The bartender confirmed it for me when he asked, "Do you know those three people? They left their credit card behind." I ran out the door and called Iolene's name and told her she forgot her credit card. She hurried back to the bar to collect it.

miso soup, tamago, and sunomono

 I decided to sober up at my favorite Japanese eatery, Suehiro. I got in to the place at 12:12 am and I pretty much closed down the place.

Koika, and sukiyaki. Drop the raw tamago into the sukiyaki and let the tamago cook in  the broth.

Bar Hopping Series-The Verdugo (tortured hamster, out of a 20 year relationships, Rastapros)

Obsidian stout by deshutes brewery

American stout.  Hoppsy. I can't even taste the chocolate.. malty smooth.

The crowd looked be mostly college and a few maybe 3 or 4  older guys. One guy I recognize as a gaffer from the Black Boar and I over heard Brenda say something about her being stalked by him from the Black Boar. I don't let on I'd be doing the same thing. But I'm here for Pliny the Younger. My first question was, "Do you have Pliny the Younger." Brenda says we sold out of that within 30 minutes on Saturday. I'm devastated. I ask for the first dark bear on the list. We recognize each other but she doesn't let on and I don't let on. We play it cool.

Allagash Black. Belgian strong dark ale. Aged in Bourbon barrels. Very sweet given the high sugar content also high in alcohol 9%.

They ran out of Blind Pig but they had Pliny the Elder.

Row 2 Hill 56. American pale. Light subtle aromatic fruity. Followed by Evil Twin / Stillwater / Stone "The Perfect Crime" Black Smoked Saison. (not pictured)

  For my second beer I ask for an Allagash Black from Brenda. I wait awhile, she comes back and says, "You're having the Sculpin, right?" "No. The Allagash." "My bad, this ones on me." Brenda actually bought me a beer. My mind optimistically wonders if she has a thing for me. No bartenders ever bought me a beer since that time with Mark when we went to our first gay bar, Faultline. I should bring up the subject next time as part of my flirtation, something along the line..."since you bought me a beer. I owe you dinner. How about that French Bistro on Colorado Blvd?" type of thing.

I noticed a loud extrovert, heavy set woman talking loudly and she mentioned Frogtown. Automatically, this rings my bell because I notice she is a local, someone who was raised in the neighborhood. She mentions she's in her early 40's but she looks about mid-30's, the beer is really strong at the Verdugo for this illusion to work on me. I finally get a chance to chat her up by saying, "I haven't heard this place called Frogtown since junior high." She goes into the history of the place that it was named Frogtown because the civil corp. of engineers called it that because of a pond in the area. It was actually toads not frogs. To me the name has strong gang affiliations, FTR, and is used to denote their territory. We introduce ourselves, her name is Lissette. She starts unwinding her stories, I just try to keep up to her with stories of my own. Lisette tells of her story how when she was a kid, in Reno, Nevada, her school would allow them to bring home the school pet hamster for everyone to enjoy. When it was her turn to take home the hamster, she tortured the little creature until it died. She was fascinated every time she squeezed the dead hamster its eyes would bug out. She had to bury the dead thing, but the ground was frozen solid, so she got her hair dryer and hooked it up to an extension cord and defrosted the grown and buried the dead hamster. Now that the hamster was dead how was she going explain what happened to it. Of course, she couldn't say she tortured it to death, so she brought  the empty hamster cage to school and pretended the hamster had somehow escaped and a full on search and recovery ensued, but the hamster was never found.  Later she said she would defrost the ground where the hamster was buried just to exhume the remains and look fascinatingly at the decaying body of the hamster. She said what I would have said about her too. Serial killer totally. I followed it with my story about some junior high boys who said they got a cat..a firecracker..Lissette started talking about how she had to euthanize her pet dog. Her pet dog had gotten some type of cancer or other and she had to put it down. The vet said she could administer the coup de grace shot. So they scheduled a day for her to do it and she thought to herself I can do this, no big deal. The day of the euthanizing some nurses came balling their eyes out over having to put down a dog earlier. After seeing this, she said, "Fuck this shit. I'm not doing this. You guys can do this. I'm not going to be in the same room." The other time she had to "take care" of animal was when a sick opossum had crawled into her planter and she couldn't bring herself to pound the thing to death with a shovel. I shared my story about an opossum...and the jacuzzi...Lissette talked about the time her dog brought her a dead opossum in her backyard. The dog brought it to her like, "look ma, look what I caught." She was totally grossed out. She went to get a shovel to pickup the thing up and put it in the trash. By the time she got back the possum was gone. I guess it was playing possum. My story was about my father-in-law's dog, Cookie, killed a cat...the dead cat the the funniest expression I have ever seen on a dead cat...

Toward the end of the evening, I bummed a cigarette off her and our discussions became more intimate. She had been previously in a 20 year relationship and when the relationship ended she got a long breakup e-mail (the longest e-mail she has ever gotten). Basically, the boyfriend ended the relationship because "he needed somebody who believed in God." I thought to myself this is lamest excuse or the boyfriend had no commitment whatsoever." Then she followed it with how she had pursued someone else... and I asked if how hard she hard pursued this person..did you throw yourself at him? "Yes, very hard in that type of way." Just to get over all the crap relationship stuff she went to Jamaica with her friends. I asked her my usual travel question about taking on a lover in order to immerse oneself in the language, food and culture. She said it didn't interest her. Although, she met a pimp who had a stable of Rastapros who could be had for $60.00 a night. Dexter St. Jacque and you passed up on it. Incredible, I thought for having missed on an opportunity. We became emotionally vulnerable to the point, I thought about sleeping with her. The beers at the Verdugo are a powerful aphrodisiac.

They were playing a bunch of Elvis tunes and this one by the Buzzcocks.

Bar Hop Series - The Verdugo: A Fellow Zythophile looking for his Holy Grail

Naughty Sauce. Noble brewery. Milk stout (nitro). Coffee and nutty.

Blind Pig. American IPA.

Still Life Stout. Beachwood brewery. American Double Stout. Aromatically flowery.

Avery odio equim. Oh mein gott its sour!

Guiness at Crazy Harry and they let me eat my burger.

I drove down to The Verdugo to see Brenda and have some brews. A very good selection of brews but they didn't enforce their happy hour. Brenda works on Tuesday and Friday's.
I met Fausto a fellow zythophile and we had a good old time talking about beer. He told me of his quest for his holy grail of beers, Pliny the Younger. Its so hard to get, Russian River brewery only releases it on a limited basis. He was going off on a rumor in the Internet that the Verdugo would have it on tap. He drove all the way from Long Beach to be here. He googled it they said they would be having some this Monday. Must be some pre-promotional hype, because they weren't serving it. I just checked they'll have some this Saturday at 2pm. The other place is the Surly Goat in West Hollywood.
Fausto told me an anecdote of how he scored some at the brewery and he bought coolers of the brew on ice. He then went to another brewery where he bumped into the sommelier from the Wynn and he said he had some Pliny the Younger. The sommelier didn't believe him but Fausto brought him back a few $5.00 bottles and the sommelier was so impressed he picked up Fausto and his wife's tab at the brewery. 
The other thing that impressed me about Fausto is he said he took his porters and stouts warm. A true beer connoisseur.
I took the 84 bus line back to the Gold Line, then the Red Line. The Red line stalled at the Universal City Station because one of the trains broke down at the last stop at the North Hollywood station.  I got off at the Universal City station where I gave one of the Metro officials a piece of my angry mind. I didn't know how long before the trains would start running back to the NoHo station so I decided to take the bus. While waiting at the bus stop a black hipster guy in those big rectangular glasses offered me a toke and being under the influence of the brews with lowered inhibitions took a hit. Smelling like EndoChina, or hanging out with the Buddha or sinsemilla, I boarded the bus. One uppity guy took a whiff of me went to the other side of the bus. I hadn't done the Marley since that time with Mark. But I made it to last call at Crazy Harry's to see Kayla and have a Guiness, a famous star and some chicken tenders.

Bar Hop Series - Hermasillo and the Black Boar

I've blog about these places before, but I will usually cruise back to a place because they are my favorites based on the selection of beers, the ratio of women to men, the cuteness of the bartenders and the service. At the Hermasillo on York Blvd I had the following brews:

 Knight Changer (Nitro) , stout.

 Three. Rye American Strong Ale by Eagle Rock Brewery.

 American IPA by Eagle Rock Brewery.

Victoria at Sea, coffee and vanilla stout from Ballast Point Brewery.

Unlike the York, I like this place better for its coziness. Scott is serving-bearded guy, about five foot nine, white and lanky. Tonight the ratio of women to men is 12 to 8. I don't sit down at the first open seat. I browse the women at the bar and then take a seat. I am between 2 sets of women. The women to my left-there are three of them, one of them is leading a discussion on real estate. The two women to my right, I catch conversation about their apartment, a fleeting conversation on men they met on dates and travel. I break into their conversation with a question in order to get to know a country would you take on a lover in order to immerse yourself in the language and the culture? Christianna said no, Kara said no. Christianna's input on the question is its a guy question. Hmmm. In the larger sense its a moral/ethical, philosophical, and societal question. Is it right or wrong to sleep with someone to immerse yourself in the language and culture? Who says its wrong? The society, the American society? How does American society view women who take on a lover in order to immerse themselves in a culture? If as an American women, if you were liberated from the chains of pejorative attitudes would you take on a lover? Are you living your life the fullest by doing this? Have you ever thrown yourself at a man before? I got their names that was good enough for me. The songs they were playing Iggy and the Stooges Down on the Street, The Pixies Where is My Mind. Kristen Hersh Wave of Mutilation. The other side note: 2 motorcyclist were at the bar drinking. One brought along her girlfriend. Young and invincible. What's the quote about leaving a good looking corpse. Kara rides. I headed over to the Black Boar.

I had Young's double chocolate stout and the Steinber

I met Dave the bouncer at the door, I asked if Brenda was serving. No, Brenda no longer worked there, she left two months ago and is now working at the Verdugo Bar. I promised myself, I'm going to the Verdugo Bar. My unofficial count of the ratio of women to men is 22 women and 13 men. However, I brought this point up in a conversation with a person who was waiting for their drink and he told me she is transgender. The unofficial count is revised as 23 women and 12 men. Nearly 2 to one. For a Sunday night, it was packed. I got to talking to the DJ, he was playing Sam Cooke's Soothe Me and George Clinton's Atomic Dog.