Drunk of the Week

One recent Thursday at Hemingway’s Key West Grille (1052 South Gaylord Street), we found ourselves spinning back into the Vortex. I don’t know whether the patio out back was infused with a particularly virulent type of spring fever or we were simply inspired by the legendary drinking abilities of the…

Drunk of the Week

There are many time-honored traditions that guys hold dear. Super Bowl parties, spring break, annual hunting or fishing trips, golf outings, bachelor parties. Especially bachelor parties. We’re a sentimental bunch and feel very deeply that every guy deserves to be sent off into marriage after a night of such debauchery…

Drunk of the Week

You know it’s going to be a good night when less than an hour into the proceedings, the Head of Research says, “I’m not even hungry anymore.” Since this came after not a seven-course meal, but two hot wings, two Coors Lights and three shots of something called “Tuaca” (Spanish…

Drunk of the Week

I’m a hopeless romantic. There’s simply no other explanation for why I took my girlfriend to Hooter’s (1390 South Colorado Boulevard) the other night. Some guys try to compartmentalize their relationships, but I feel it’s important to include my girlfriend whenever it’s practical. That way, if and when we inexplicably…

Drunk of the Week

I firmly believe that if I were in charge, this world would be a much better place — for me, at least. I wouldn’t get chest pains over lousy drivers, idiots who take more than five minutes to order coffee, Average Joe, not having four NFL games on every Sunday…

Drunk of the Week

On a sunny Sunday, it’s hard to remember all of the literary brilliance rolling around in my head and spewing from my mouth the night before at Old Chicago (1280 South Colorado Boulevard, and about a zillion other locations on the planet). Here’s what I can remember: I’ve been a…

Drunk of the Week

Part of being Dad is enduring unimaginable torture at the hands of your child. I’m not talking here about the dirty diapers that curl nose hairs from a mile away and defy all laws of physics because there’s no way a ten-pound child should be able to unload thirty pounds…

Drunk of the Week

I hate mass-market American “beer.” And not just for the obvious reason — that it’s the root of all evil. We all know that just about every college kid in America is controlled by brain waves transmitted via television commercials that feature the Coors Light Twins or the Miller Lite…

Drunk of the Week

I want to set the record straight: I did not knuckle under to corporate pressure — at least not without trying to get a kickback at the same time. We headed to Chopper’s Sports Grill (80 South Madison Street) the other night to watch the Timberwolves continue their dominance of…

Drunk of the Week

On the list of man’s highest accomplishments, the sports bar comes right after the creation of fireworks, dark beer and frozen cookie dough. But let’s face it: All great inventions begin with guys who have nothing better to do than figure out new ways to amuse themselves or make their…

Drunk of the Week

I am always amazed by the clarity of thought and flawless logic displayed by members of the Institute of Drinking Studies. In a recent post-Avalanche game wrap-up at the Pepsi Center’s Blue Sky Grill, we solved several of the world’s problems. As is too often the case, however, we could…

Drunk of the Week

I was somewhat leery of meeting Bleary-Eyed Reader Matt K. at his favorite local bar, the Sundown Saloon (1136 Pearl Street, Boulder), because you’d think I’d have better things to do with my time than meet a complete stranger at a bar thirty miles away — things like picking the…

Drunk of the Week

It’s time to start planning the biggest event of the year, your Super Bowl party. I don’t get as riled up about the game as I used to — I think it’s because players now change teams as often as they change their jockstraps — but I do still love…

Drunk of the Week

I am on a roll in this new year, and I’m pretty sure I may be a candidate for sainthood. While I know that bleary-eyed readers are already well-acquainted with my piety, I’ve recently performed the requisite three miracles that should get me an all-expenses-paid trip to Rome and the…

Drunk of the Week

I wasn’t able to go home to Minnesota over the holidays, but I did manage to find an enclave of natives at Cadillac Jack’s (2250 South Monaco Parkway), where my world ended a few weekends ago. Perhaps you remember this particular Sunday: The Vikings lost to the Arizona state high…

Drunk of the Week

Merry Christmas. Only 24 hours left until some of you (all women) can run out to catch all those post-holiday steals. You’ll say you’re going so that you can get your shopping done early, but you’ll still be back at the malls come Halloween, checking out all the new fads…

Drunk of the Week

Knowing what I know now, I would never have voted for the sweeping change in attitude embodied by John Hickenlooper’s administration. While I wholly approve of reversing parking rates to a level that does not require a second mortgage or a successful second career in narcotics trafficking, I expected a…

Drunk of the Week

To any of you who were present at the Stout Pub (2052 Stout Street) the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I want to apologize on behalf of our entire group. I want to, but I won’t. Because the blame really belongs to bleary-eyed reader Andy Anderson, a fellow Minnesotan who suggested this…

Drunk of the Week

Apparently the only Ted-free place in town is Denver International Airport. These days, you can’t turn on the television or open the paper without seeing that single word emblazoned on a blank field, or even go to a bar without having a cheap Frisbee proclaiming “Ted is fun” foisted on…

Drunk of the Week

Let’s have a show of hands: Who did something this past weekend that he or she regrets? Okay, me too. But despite my being “overserved” by the Hornet (76 Broadway), I’m pretty sure I have the same complement of friends that I went into the weekend with. And that’s no…

Drunk of the Week

The new SAT is the final step in the coddling of America’s children, which is ruining society. It started with allowing snowboarders at Vail and continued with the acceptance of ridiculous baggy pants — the ones with crotches hanging around the knees, making kids look like clown-school rejects or young…

Drunk of the Week

Now that Halloween is over, I’m sure you’re counting the days left during which every Target, Barnes & Noble and Best Buy will be filled with a miserable quagmire of people who are apparently unaware that other humans populate the Earth — running you down with their shopping carts, blasting…