Volume 96, Issue 57
Friday, January 10, 2003

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The Pub Guy: The foolish and hungry

By Chris Lackner
Gazette Staff

Disclaimer: The Pub Guy loves drinking so much, he would probably massage Marlon Brando's buttocks for half a beer. It's sad, but he thought you should know.

The pub: The Brass Door
Location: 186 King St.


On tap: An assortment of golden earthly delights from both home and abroad, including Caffrey's, Guinness, Labatt 50, Alexander Keith's, Labatt Blue, Carlsberg, Stella Artois and Magner's Cider.

The décor: The Brass Door is a fine Irish pub and its image fits the overall package – a lot of wood, dim lighting and low ceilings create a warm and cozy pub-faring experience. The hidden booth to the right of the dart board, which is cut off from the rest of the establishment, is a prime location for shenanigans and tom-foolery. Imagine telling your future child where he/she was conceived – when you and your spouse skanked it up one night and banged as strangers on a cushiony bed of beer, grease and ashes? Now that's romance.

Bathroom graffiti: This true poetry of our time reveals much about the character of a man. For example, it's a fair summation that the guy who wrote "Here's to fucking hot chicks" on The Brass Door stall isn't fucking many freakin' hot chicks. Same with the Shakespeare who wrote "Here's to eating pussy for breakfast, lunch and dinner." The word starving comes to mind.

Entertainment: Jim McGinley, a Scottish folksinger who plays on Saturday nights, leads a fine assortment of weekly entertainment.

The crowd: A good mix – old and young, foolish (see "bathroom graffiti") and intelligent.

Pub Guy's judgement: A little luck of the Irish in every pint, what more could you want?

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