Do You Still Hate Me?

I meant to write this up a few weeks back when Tank was in town, but the timing didn't seem right, or more so, we were up every night drinking and I didn't have time, and subsequently forgot to mention it. Its been a bit since I spun a yarn so being awake and dehydrated I have no other option.

I want to talk about the power of bullshit reviews.

Yes, I'm pointing at you Yelp.com-ers. "See you on Yelp!"... See you in hell.......

I'm also shaking a finger at last months Seattle Met which named the top 25 bars in town. Ya, you got some things right, However, I feel half your list was simply the people that pay for advertising. You left off some very good places and featured some that frankly couldn't make a proper drink to save their life. The magazine said its all about classics these days. So I made a point to visit a few and give them the drinkboy challenge of an old fashioned, followed by a classic, followed by dealers choice. There was a ton of let downs. You loved the new speakeasy in town and name dropped one of their bartenders, guess what..... she isn't there anymore ( however their new guy is a SOLID hire ), you loved the *uck, guess what, fuck the *uck, it fucking sucks. The hotel bar celebrating its 100th anniversary? the guy they brought in to revamp the program quit because the management is awful. Press doesn't understand what constitutes good and bad in most cases, because they aren't doing what they are writing about 90% of the time. What a lot of these bullshit writers don't realize is a lot of new business owners actually pay attention to the bullshit you are saying. Which makes working in these places a lot more harder for some people.

I was inspired by this footage of Spencer losing his shit at Sasquatch.

So the recipe:



Do you still hate me?
2 oz. 100 proof rye
1/4 oz. Benedictine
1/4 oz Maraschino
3 dashes Peychaud bitters
One barspoon absinthe
3 large cubes of ice

Combine all ingredients in a double rocks glass and stir. No garnish.

So the song:



So the lyrics:

Been hearing about you.
All about your disapproval.
Still I remember the way I used to move you.
I wrote you a letter.
I heard it just upset you.
Why don't you tell me?
How can I do this better?
Are you out there?
Do you hear me?
Can I call you?
Do you still hate me?
Are we talking?
Are we fighting?
Is it over?
Are we writing?
We're getting older.
But we're acting younger.
We should be smarter.
It seems we're getting dumber.
I have a picture
of you and me in Brooklyn.
On a porch, it was raining.
Hey, I remember that day.
And I miss you.