I opened “The Bar of the Blamed” this week, in hopes of creating a world safe for all people. My co-owner, Jodie Foster, will be there until the end offering suggestions on how best to impress her.
We’ve got all the causes of all the psychotic things in this country: Norman Bates’ mom is running the bingo game in the corner while Slenderman is entertaining the crew by bending balloons into the shapes of various animals.
Speaking animals, we have a strict “Some Dogs Allowed” policy, which helped when Sam Carr’s black Lab, Harvey, showed up a while back.
If you’re up for music, Marilyn Manson is playing here nightly, and runs a nice karaoke operation on Wednesdays for our long timers. Speaking of a Manson, the jukebox is stuffed with the classics: The Beatles’ White Album. To be fair, though, we do have a DJ who comes in and spins Ozzy’s “Suicide Solution,” and Judas Priest’s “Better by You, Better than Me” on occasion.
Of course, he only plays them backwards.
The buffet is nice, filled with Twinkies and Twinkie-related products. Just don’t eat too much. It might go to your head.
Stop on by any time and see all that ails the country. You can leave with a feeling of relief, knowing that nothing bad will ever happen again because I’ve got it trapped in one place.
Until, of course, we have to add another song to the jukebox, a movie to our playlist or a star to our “Wall of Fame.”