The Adventures of Madfish Willie

The Romantic Life of a Sailor

I'll start this story off like every other Navy sea story with the proverbial; "This is a no-shitter!"

My submarine pulled into Hong Kong back in '91 for a week and the first night we all headed out to a neat club called Madfish Willies. We had been underway [spanking the monkey] for about a month and were ready to get drunk and chase hot wild young good-looking women [Corner of the Bar Babes] - we have to live up to that submariner stereotype, don't we?

I got to the bar and edged in between two big hairy bastards and ordered six beers. I started talking with them and found out they were Viking Sailors. I only remember one of their names, Finn the Viking, because after he told me his name he turned his bottom lip out to show me the "Fuck You" tattoo. They were really plastered and after a few shots of B-52's they returned the favor and insisted on buying us Americans a drink. I never refuse a free one and before I knew it Finn the Viking leans over and yells to the barkeep, Linda: "Two shots of Johnny Walker Black!" I love J W Black and water but have to be really smashed to drink it straight. I have since then remedied that obstacle.

I protested to Finn the Viking but it didn't matter. The shot was shoved in my hand and he leaned over me and said "Drink it, Yank." Afraid of what would happen if I didn't I tossed it back. It got about 3/4 of the way down my esophagus before making a U-turn. I put my hand over my mouth but it was too late. I spewed the Johnny Black and some of my dinner across the bar and onto Linda who had returned with Finn the Viking's change. She cussed me and pointed to the bathroom. Finn the Viking picked my up by the collar, knocking my cowboy hat off in the process, and walked me the 10 feet to the shitter. He kicks open a stall door and shoves my head into the shitter. "Git to it, mate."

A little more came up and I was fine but embarrassed and pissed off since my last vomitous happened more than 2 years prior. I started to get up off the floor but Finn the Viking put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down. "You're not done yet, mate." I assured him I was but it didn't matter. Being a good shipmate, Finn the Viking pushes me to the side and says, "Here, we'll do it together." He shoves half his hand down his throat and after a few seconds of gagging and a sound I cannot even attempt to describe, he puked into the shitter.

I was so disgusted seeing our puke swirling around in that shitter that I lost it. What was left of my dinner came up in a matter of seconds. I was exhausted and couldn't keep from thinking about what just happened and I started to laugh. Finn the Viking tore off some shit paper and started to wipe my face off. He picked me up and we went back to the bar where my cold beer is now warm beer (with only two sips taken from it), and my hat, laying crushed to a pancake beside my barstool, waited for me. Linda gave me a dirty look and threw a bar rag in front of me and pointed to the puke on the counter. "Dammit, wipe that nastry crap up before you do another fucking thing." I wiped it up, thanked my new Viking friends, grabbed my crushed cowboy hat and my warm beer and went to the far side of the bar to start hitting on the Corner of the Bar Babes and Chinese girls with British accents.

Signed Matt O'Blackfive

[Ed Note: Blackfive wasn't in the Navy, but it's still a good dinking story]

Cheers

The Adventures of Madfish Willie

Rock n Hurl

We, the Corner of the Bar Babes from Madfish Willie's, were on our merry way to this big concert. Dana, Susie, Candy and I were very excited so in order to relax we decided to drop by Madfish Willie’s to have a few beers.....Well a few beers turned into 2 cases between Dana, Susie, Linda, Kate, Serenity, LeAnn and I. By the time we had gotten to the parking lot to drive to the concert, we were pretty toasted. Harvey and Blackfive told us we shouldn’t be driving, but we held our ground. We loaded up in the panel bus, with Finn the Viking designated driving for us. Upon entrance to the concert to our dismay we learned that alcohol sales stopped at 9:30. Oh the inhumanity! Even worse the beers were near $6.00 each. But this did not stop our mission to get plastered. Since each vendor will only sell you 1 beer at a time we found some fast food drink holders and went around and got 8 beers each! On our way to our seats, Susie and Dana were stumbling and sloshing beers and being belligerent all around. Linda, Jennifer and Kate met some protestors (what they were protesting we will never know!) but Linda took their sign and tore it up, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it. "Goddam, hippy protesters!", she yelled at them. They started to give us a bunch of shit, but Finn the Viking came up behind us, and they ran away like a bunch of wimps. Then, we went to the show. To make a long story short, I drank all of my beer (I am a 120 lb female), passed out before the show was over and then started throwing up in public during the final act of Rage Against The Machine (quite gracefully I must add). Serenity almost went to detox because she was so wasted but managed to summon the strength to stagger past the cops to the bus, then passed out. Meanwhile, Finn the Viking was taking digital pics of everyone passed out and throwing up so he could post on the Madfish Willie’s web page...not cool.....I was konked out the whole way home and to this day have never lived this show down!!!

Heather

Cheers!

The Adventures of Madfish Willie

Going Down Good

This story took place a few years ago when in was illegal to buy beer after 11 P.M. or on Sunday. So it was late one Sunday night and Harvey, Blackfive, Eric, Steve, Finn, the Viking and I were feeling a little thirsty. It was difficult to buy beer during off-hours but not impossible if you had the right connections - which they did. So we made the trip to a store which would sell us beer after hours, at nearly double the regular price, and they picked up a couple of dozen and went on home to watch some TV. The first beer Harvey opened seemed like the best beer he ever had. He drank it in a matter of seconds - and so did Blackfive - so did I. We all reached down for our second beer at the same time and chugged that one just as fast and thenwe had another and another. We were all looking at each other and grinning but trying to keep quiet about how fast we were drinking. This went on for about a half-hour or so without Eric, Steve and Finn, the Viking noticing. By the time they finished their third beer Harvey, Blackfive and I had the rest of the 2 dozen gone. At first they thought we hid the beer but then they saw we were half cut. We thought Finn, The Viking was gonna kill us all! He was cussin' and yellin' and raisin' all kinds of hell. Just as he was going for his mighty nordic killing sword, Steve and Eric tackled him and held him down until we could all pile on top. With a mighty heave, he threw us all off - just like one of those Popeye cartoons. Luckily, this made him too tired to kill us. Well, they were all pretty pissed at us but there's no use crying over chugged beer, so we went back to the store and got a few more cases. Harvey mad Blackfive buy cause he always tries to get out of paying at the bar. After we got back to Madfish Willie's, Harvey made some cheese sandwiches and everything was back to normal.

Cheers!

The Adventures of Madfish Willie

Party Girl

The other day, I was interviewing LeAnn. She's a pretty young thing from from The Cheese Stands Alone. She was applying for a barmaid position at Madfish Willie's. She looked familiar... I thought I had seen her somewhere before... but where? I asked her to tell me a little about herself and about her qualifications. So she goes into this little rant.

OK, I've made an idiot of myself here at Madfish Willies many times, but the last time takes the cake. A couple of weeks ago at a birthday party for Susie, my friend, we had more than enough to drink at the hall where the party was held. Nevertheless, Susie decided we should go to Madfish Willie's clubbing with the others. She insisted I join in the drinking competition. Of course, being female and having drunk too much already, I was unable to walk properly pretty quickly. I was carried out of the club by Lord Spatula, Sir John of Argghhh!!! and Finn, the Viking. They chucked us in a cab, where I got sick. The cab also cost me 25 bucks. When Susie got me got home, I couldn't find my house keys. So, she had to try to wake up my mom. It was 2:30am and we couldn't wake her up. So, Susie left me in the entryway, which is where I woke up the next morning with no memory of the night before. I missed two days of college - one cause I was still drunk and the next day cause thats when I got the mother of all hangovers!

There have also been times when I got so hot at a Madfish Willie parties that I took my shirt off. Well, if the guys can do it, so can I, was my thinking at the time. Then I realized I was flashing my boobs at everyone and someone had called the police. Eric and Serenity mad me put me shirt back on so I wouldn't get thrown in jail.

I've been greeted by cheers at work the mornings after Ive been out because of my adventures. To say I go a little wild would be fair. However, I would like to say I dont make a habit of getting completely hammered. The amount of times Ive been like that are few, honestly!

Well, after that little story, I finally remembered Harvey, Misha and Blackfive telling me some story about what happened on my day off.

So, what do you think? Should I hire a girl who takes her shirt off at parties and get shit-faced drunk at Madfish Willie's?

You tell me!

Cheers!

. PICKING UP THE PIECES

.

It's getting to be about the time that the joint really packs out. As we pull into the parking lot, I see the line snaking out the door. Good thing we have reserved parking spaces close to the door. As we jump out of the truck, Blackfive makes us repeat our oath not to tell. We repeat it (Harvey still has his fingers crossed) and head toward the club.

Shit, Susie is gonna kill us for being gone so long. St John of Argghh!!! is working the door, making sure we don't get overcrowded and have the Fire Marshall down here jacking with us. We squeeze by the people in line. They start raising hell.'Yaya ya ya ya' is all I hear.

A scream is heard that drowns out the sound system. It's Susie. "Damn you guys! Where the hell have you been? I told you 'no titty bars!' Blah, blah, blah, blah." She throws a glass at us. We all duck. I hear the sound of something whizzing by my ear as the glass hits the wall and shatters.

Lord Spatula I is behind the bar helping out our bartenders, Jennifer and Linda K, by washing dirty glasses and icing down the beer. All of a sudden, here comes a beer bottle - a full bottle! It misses us by a mile [smash!] Glass and foam fly everywhere.

"Assholes!" he shouts at us.

Blackfive: "Dammit, Spatula, at least you can throw the empties. That's good beer yer wastin' like that!"

"G-d-dammit. Quit throwin shit at me. It's all Blackfive and Harvey's fault. They drug me over there. Throw that shit at them, not me!"

Boy, it really pisses me off when people throw shit at me. I've been hit in the back with too many ashtrays during my bartending days. I guess I had it coming tonight, though. Tonight only, no more.

As we shuffle past the bar, Jennifer and Linda start hollering for change and more whiskey. Crap... I forgot to leave they keys to the liquor room with Susie. I flip my club keys to Jennifer and she heads to the back toward the liquor room. I help Spatula get the bartenders caught up. I guess I'm gonna have to buy Spatula's beer all night for helping the bar babes out while we were gone. There go the profits.

Blackfive walks up to Linda and orders his usual - 6 beers. And, he orders a triple shot of Tequila - to get the taste out of his mouth probably. Linda asks him if he's alright. Shaking his head no, he downs the tequila all in one gulp and shudders for a few seconds. You know what I mean. Then, instead of going over and hanging out with the Corner of the Bar Gang, he finds the lone empty table in the joint. Sitting down, in silence - for once in his life.

I look around the room to see what needs my attention. As the proprietor of this fine joint, I need to make sure everyone has what they need. I check the DJ booth - it looks like SilverBlue is up there. Spinning some fine tunes, volume cranked up to 11, mirror ball spinning spots around the room, fog machine spewing too much smog, and making announcements about something. I can't ever tell what he's saying - he mumbles too much. I gotta get him over to the titty joint to see how a real announcer works.

I walk up toward the front door through the aisle in front of the bar. Linda's at the end of the bar, giving some poor bastard a whole rash of shit. Apparently, he was messing with the tip jars. She's really beating this guy up - verbally, I mean! Damn, I wish I could do it like that! Hey, he's lucky that she's not on this side of the bar, kicking his dumb-ass all over the place - it's been known to happen. Lucky that Spatula is at the other end of the bar, working, or he would be getting Texas Style Ass Whoopin'. A good one, too! Don't fuck with the bartenders' money - ever!!!

Dana, America's #1 Pin Up Girl, is taking cover charge. Tonight we have a live band (as opposed to a dead one?) and we have to charge so we can cover the cost of the band and lights and all the other shit that goes with live music. She's hollering something about needing change for big bills. I bring her back a stack of fives from the office.

"The Beer Tub Babe called in. She isn't gonna' be here tonight" she informs me.

Well... Crap... Just what I need... another friggin problem... what to do...

Just then, Serenity struts through the door, brushing past St John without showing ID and strolling past Dana without paying the cover - one of the privileges of being one of Madfish Willie's Corner of The Bar Babes! WOW! Is she dressed to kill - what Blackfive likes to call a "Girl with a Short Skirt and Long Jacket". What an animal! [shaking my head in disbelief that she looks sooo... sooo... yummy!]

Serenity, you wanna' make a bunch of money tonight?

[slap] She smacks me across the face.

"What's that for? I just wanted to know if you want to be the Beer Tub Babe tonight? The regular girl called and can't make it tonight. She always make a ton of money and I thought maybe you would please help me out and at the same time have a little fun and make yourself some long green." I have a round-about way of asking for help. Actually, Serenity would be pulling my ass out of the fire by doing this - did I mention she will also make a fortune?

She reluctantly agrees, "Sure, why not? You did say I am going to make some serious cash, right?"

So, I get Spatula to help me set up the Beer Tub for Serenity. We are just about ready, and look up as she pushes her way through the crowd of guys that have been surrounding her. I go over everything with her, and she goes to work, pulling cold beers out of the ice, popping bottle tops, taking money, making money.

As I watch all the "hard-ons" order their beer, and tip her out more than they pay for the friggin beer, I realize "Shit she's gonna make more money than I am tonight - that's not fair!"

Straight White Guy, who's been standing there watching Serenity open beers with me (and everybody else in the place), tells me, "I really hate to tell you this, bro', but her dress rides up in the back when she bends over to get beer and shows off a lot of her... er... assets!"

I walk up beside her and talk into her ear, "Damn, Serenity, no wonder you're making so much money. Every time you reach over a get a beer, the guys in front of you look down your dress, and the guys in back of you look up your dress."

[slap] She smacks me across the face - again.

"What did I do? I was just trying to tell you, so you could... I don't know... do something... I thought... you should... be aware..."

"Get your ass out of here and let me make some money" she yells back.

Damn, I'm really taking an ass kicking tonight. I'm gotta put a stop to this shit!

I make my way back up to the bar. Sitting over in their Special Reserved Seats, under the plaques with their names on them nailed to the furr-down above their heads, are Emperor Misha and Frank J. They're laughing their asses off. Harvey is too! Oh, shit - Harvey told. That fucker. We gave our word to Blackfive, who has just stated his third round of 6 beers. We'll never hear the end of that crap now!

I set Spatula up with a bar tab for the rest of the night for helping us out. "Spatula, get your beers from Linda for the rest of night and she'll take care of it for you. Just don't forget to tip her!"

"Thanks, dude" he replies.

"No, Thank You for helping us out"

Finally, I have everything working smoothly - like a well oiled machine. Damn, I'm good! I'm standing over by the Corner of The Bar Gang, listening to them telling lies to anyone who'll stand still long enough. Sometimes, even the Corner of Bar Babes get tired of their gibberish and walk off. They're drinking like fish tonight - must have been a hard day at the office.

I finally notice. There's something going a little weird with the music. Something... well... not quit... on. Having been a bartender for so long and training myself to not hear the music, I have to really concentrate on listening to it. Otherwise, it's just background noise to me.

Anyway, have I told you about the Corner of the Bar Babes yet? I don't know if anyone would come in here if they weren't always hanging out. They are the best looking, hottest babes in town! Always dressed to the nines... smart too. It's fun to watch the guys hitting on 'em, trying to pick 'em up, and then get totally destroyed by someone they thought was a bimbo. They sure make the joint look better. Especially when they hang around with the Corner of The Bar Gang. The Corner of The Bar Gang is kinda' like their big brothers, watching over 'em, making sure no one messes with 'em in Madfish Willie's.

Meanwhile, Heather and Candy have finally shown up. They're hanging out by the end of the bar with The Gang.

Heather's wearing her trademark short black skirt, and why not? She has great legs... she just had them lengthened... now they go all the way to the top! Must be from all that competitive bicycling! And, she doesn't like me telling people this but, she has a great set of boobs! She always wears a baggy blouse so you can't see 'em, but I can tell.

Candy, meanwhile, is the prankster of The Babes. Plus she has this whole Southern Belle thing going on, kinda like Jodi Foster in Maverick. You know the scene where they are on the riverboat for the card game, Maverick leaves to scam the Russian dude, and when he comes back, she is surrounded by all those other guys - that's Candy. Candy is tall and rather er... busty! Lots of fun to look at (and talk to). Mmm... Candy.

Back to the music... I'm listening and I don't believe my ears. I mean, what the fuck is he playing?
Hound Dog... You're a Legend in Your Own Mind... Copacabana... Lola... Hobo's Blues... Papa Hobo... Hobo Humpin Slobo Babe...? Everybody, and I mean everybody, is looking around with that incredulous look on their faces wondering what is going on. I run over to the sound booth. That's not SilverBlue! That's Evil Glenn in a man-wig! In my DJ booth! [He must really like to play dress up] The Gang and The Babes see him at the same time I do. They all rush toward the booth. There is a mass of humanity flying everywhere. Ahead of me, I'm pushing people to the sides trying to make an aisle to get to Evil Glenn. Behind me, people are flying every-which-a-way as the freight train of regulars steam toward Evil Glenn. There is murder in the air. Evil Glenn sees all this out the corner of his eye and heads toward the emergency exit on the far side of the room. I'm right behind him and as I reached out to grab him some asshole trips me. As I fall to the ground, I reach out trying to catch my balance and take several other customers down. I'm lookiing at the guy who tripped me. It's Blackfive - drunk as a skunk! Now there is a pile of people on the ground and no one can get to Evil Glenn as he escapes into the dark night.

Blackfive: "Ssshorry... mannn, i wassssh jussst... tryinnnn to hhhrlp"

Harvey: "Get your ass up Matt, you drunken idiot!"

"We have to put a stop to this shit and right now!" I yell to no one in particular.

Frank J: "That's it. Time to break out the Ninjas."

Misha: "The Rott stays here at Willie's till we get that evil bastard! We don't want him in here fucking up the joint."

The Babes in unison: "Let's kick his ass real good!" Damn, they're tough!

"Shit... Evil Glenn manages to escape one more time. Well, we'll get him next time if it kills me!" I moan.

We do learn one more thing about the most evil and sinister blogger known to man. Evil Glenn wears bad man-wigs and plays really crappy music.

Cheers!

I guess The Beer Store

I guess The Beer Store Caper wore poor old Harvey out last night. He didn't drop a tip in today! However, Owen from Lex Libertas warns us about the new fake $20's going around! He also has a funny California flag you need to check out!

Margi from As I See It! shows us where to have an On-line Orgasm. [Drink Alert!]

Adam from A Single Southern Guy gets even with an EX.

Amazing Drinking Stories has a pic of Blackfive's Well Stocked Frig! How the hell did they get into Blackfive's garage to take this pic? Security... anyone...?

Eric at Straight White Guy is Dean Martin, too and he's got some lyrics to prove it! Then, he tells us the difference between 'potentially' and 'realistically'?" Lastly, he explains why Only hookers drink Cosmos. [Hey, he was on a roll, and I thought he was funny.]

SilverBlue reminds us why you don't let the dog lick your face!

Finally, a bad joke provided by Oyesuare

A guy walks into a bar and sees a sign over the bar which reads :

Cheese sandwich $2 Ham sandwich $3 Hand-job $10

He checks his wallet, then approaches the gorgeous barmaid.

"Are you the one who gives the hand-jobs" he asks.

"Yes" she says with a smile.

"Well wash your fucking hands and make me a cheese sandwich"
Cheers!

.THE TITTY BAR DEBACLE After

.

Blackfive: "I'm drivin'"

Harvey: "Shotgun!"

"Crap, I ain't riding between you two jack-offs. I'll take my own truck. That way, when I get tired of listenin' to all ya'lls bullshit, I can go back to work. I'll follow you, Blackfive, let's HA (haul ass)."

Blackfive: "Don't be drivin' like an old man, you turd! Stay up with us big boys this time!"

"Bite me."

With that, Blackfive peels out into the traffic, fish-tailing and sliding everywhere, in a dark gray cloud of rubber smoke.

"Shit, I'm gonna get a ticket following this idiot."

I just remember... Susie is watching the bar and she told us not to go to the titty bars. Man, I know that Blackfive is taking us to a nasty ol' strip joint. I pick up the cell phone laying on the seat beside me. Trying to dial Harvey's cell number and keep up with Blackfive's driving is a death defying act. Holy crap, Batman! I'm bobbin' and weavin' all over the place trying to keep them in sight.

Ring... Ring... Ring... Ring... Ring... I get Harvey's dumb-ass message that he can't answer the phone right now and to leave a message. "Yeah, here's a message for you... answer your damn phone." I hang up and press re-dial.

Ring... Ring...

"Pick up the phone, yo-yo"

Ring... Ring... Harvey answers: "Now what do you want?"

"Well, Susie is watching the joint and she's gonna' be pissed if we don't get back soon."

Harvey: "She'll be OK. Frank and Misha will be back soon and they'll help her out if she get's in trouble."

"OK - it's your ass. I'm blaming everything on you and Blackfive." That's how I get out of everything - blame it on Harvey and Blackfive. "Later, dude."

Blackfive pulls into the parking lot at the local Gentleman's Club. Man, I just know we'll never get out of here. Good thing I brought my own truck. I think to myself "I'll have one beer and then go back to Madfish Willie's. Maybe Susie won't be too mad at me."

We pay the outrageous cover charge - shouldn't that be an un-cover charge? "Damn, I only want to get inside not buy the place!"

Blackfive: "Quit bitchin, you cheap asshole."

As we walk into the blackhole room full of nekked dancin' girls, it takes our eyes a bit to adjust. I hope there's no one here that I've kicked out of Madfish Willie's, cause they could really kick my ass right now and I'd never see it coming or who did it.

Our eyes adjusted, we walk up to the bar and order some longnecks. "$5 for a fuckin' beer? That's way too high! I hope that includes your tip, you greedy bastard, because I'm not giving you one!"

I look on the center stage at the featured "dancer". That has got to be the ugliest dancing girl twisting around a brass pole in the history of nekked dancin' girls - Oohhh, me eyes! Blackfive must still be blinded because he's already standing at the stage waving crisp new $1 bills around. Either that or he's blind drunk. The ugly dancin' girl wiggles over to him and does the little squat thing that all strippers do. She/it whispers something in his ear, takes his money and stuffs in her/its' G-string. Then, she/it gives Blackfive a little peck.

All of a sudden, she/it breaks out in this funky dance. Hey, I've seen that dance somewhere before! She/it is doing the Robot Dance! And she/it looks kind of like Evil Glenn's twin sister or twin cousin or something - Evil Glenn is a FREAK after all, ya know!

"I gotta get out here. You guys can watch this if you wanna. I gots to get back to work", I tell Harvey and Blackfive.

Just then the DJ annouces in his best deep announcer voice that all titty bar DJs have, "And on the center stage... our featured guest dancer for the week... Evil Glennda"

Blackfive's eyes must have adjusted, 'cause now they're poppin' out of his head! "Run awaaaaayyy!"

We all drop our beers on the floor and run out the door as fast as we can screaming and rubbing our eyes and spitting out the beer we were drinking.

Blackfive rushes over to the bushes and heaves. Spewing chunks everywhere, he annouces, "We'll never step a foot back in this place again." "Take me home, daddy" he cries.

Harvey: "That's what you get for draggin' us down to this dump anyway, you freak!"

That's how we found out... Evil Glenn has a twin sister or twin cousin name Evil Glennda that does the Robot Dance - OR Evil Glenn is a transvestite titty dancer!

Blackfive made us take a solemn oath not to tell anyone what we have just witnessed, then we all load up and head back to Madfish Willie's.

[Note: Harvey had his fingers crossed when he took the oath.]

To be continued...

. FILTHY LIES: THE INSTAPUNDIT

.

That's right... The Instapundit already has a tagline and it's posted in plain site! [ed. All puns intended!]

He uses a technique mastered by the former Saturday Light Live cast member Kevin Nealon and his character Mr. Subliminal.

The only way for normal people to detect this subliminal message is to wear lectroid goggles from The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eight Dimension.

I don't need these devices because I am not a weak-minded individual, plus I've been drinking heavily for several years. I have the unique ability and awesome responsibility to be the only person alive who has actually seen the tagline of Evil Glenn.

It's a plan so insideous, so EVIL, so ...

I have not the proper words to describe it... it's so... so... so... It's just too upsetting... for me to tell you right now. I'm gonna have to do some... Samurai Meditations that... Frank taught me before... I will be calm and... collected enough... to tell you what... Evil Glenn's... ultimate plan is.

[Visibly upset] I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... Excuse me... [The Bartender turns and quickly strides away, to return later and reveal the evil intent of The Instapundit's plan]

. FILTHY LIES: THE INSTAPUNDIT

.

I was closing the joint up one night last week, I think it was Thursday. I heard a loud bang outside and went to investigate. There I found, all by itself beside the front door, what looked like a small music box. I picked it up and hurried back inside. Safely inside, I locked the doors and gazed at the frail little wooden box. Turning it around, I located a button. I thought to myself, 'Self, this button surely must turn the music box on'. I pressed the button. It vibrated out of my hands and dropped to the floor, somehow not splintering into bits and pieces, and landed on it's base. That's when it happened!

JOHN EMDALL, a dreadlocked woman in a silver uniform appeared to me in a weird column of light and said:

JOHN EMDALL: Salutations, great Bartender. I am John Emdall, from Planet Ten. A common grave danger confronts both our worlds. After a bloody reign of terror the hated leader of our military caste, the self-proclaimed Evil Lord Glenn Reynolds, a bloodthirsty butcher as evil as your Hitler was overthrown by freedom-loving forces, tried, and condemned, along with several hundred of his followers, to spend eternity in the formless void of the 8th dimension. Death was deemed too good for them. Now, you, bloggers, have unintentionally helped Evil Glenn with your internet oscillation overthruster. For our intelligence warns us he intends to steal your overthruster. If he should attempt this, we will have no choice but to disrupt world-wide internet communications, and fire a particle beam weapon from your airspace to Smolensk, in the Union of the Soviet Socialist Republics.

THE BARTENDER: (alarmed) That's an action the Kremlin would most certainly misinterpret as an American first strike! They're already a little trigger-happy as it is!

JOHN EMDALL: Stop... Evil... Glenn... before sun... sets! If you fail, we will be forced to help you destroy yourselves.

Evil Glenn is an Evil Red Lectroid from Planet 10 and wants to take over the world's internet communications via the internet oscillation overthruster and thereby Rule The World!

Oh yeah... His tagline reads:

Must.Have.Internet.Oscillation.Overthruster

Cheers!

. FILTHY LIES: HAPPY HOUR

.

He was leaning back in Frank J's chair, with his feet kicked up on Misha's seat. Who was this freak? How dare he come into our place, sit in Frank J's special reserved place and put his feet on any chair, much less Misha's? The Rott was growling furiously, foaming at the mouth and straining at the chain to get at this interloper. [I was dog sitting The Rott for a couple of hours while Misha was out running around.] He didn't like the idea of someone sitting in Misha's seat. He didn't like people putting their feet up on the chairs, either.

This didn't look good. I could tell from my many years of experience dealing with dumb-asses that something bad was about to happen. I checked under the bar, making sure the Imperial ClueBat was handy, then I walked over and asked him if he needed something to drink.

"What is your blending capacity in this establishment?", he inquired.

"What the hell are you talking about, dude?", I replied.

Evil Glenn, in his puny, whiny voice asked "How many blenders do you have? I need massive quantities of my special energy drink, Puppy Smoothies, and that requires numerous blenders. Indeed!"

I just stood there, in stunned silence, for a moment, slowly realizing exactly who this was. I was staring evil incarnate directly in the eye.

I shouted "Indeed, my butt! You're Evil Glenn Reynolds - you puppy blending, robot dancing, hobo murdering, communist! Get you your ass out of here before I put a serious Texas Ass Whooping on you."

As I leapt over the bar to run him out, Harvey and Blackfive looked up from some weird thing they were doing in the far corner in absolute amazement. They couldn't believe their eyes! "Evil Glenn Must Die!" they cried in unison, and jumped out of their seats to give chase. Beer bottles and cocktail glasses flew all over the place as they rumbled and stumbled and bumbled toward Evil Glenn.

Seeing his eminent demise, Evil Glenn jumped up, knocking over tables and chairs. Bouncing off the wall, he ran toward the door to escape our righteous fury and indignant rage.

I noticed that he left his book of nastiness on the bar. I picked it up and heaved it across the room with all my might. Pages from the book tore out and went flying everywhere, the book striking the door-jam, narrowly missing Evil Glenn as he bolted out into the parking lot. He reached down quickly with his grubby right hand, grabbed what was left of his nasty-ass book and scurried away. The last we saw, he was seen running down the street and around the corner (no doubt in search of hobos to murder). As we sauntered back into the bar, huffing and puffing and generally our of breath, I couldn't help but think "It's a good thing that Lord Spatula wasn't here or Evil Glenn would be Toast!"

Alas, he was too quick for me today, but I did find out what he was writing on the pages in his Satanic book. It was absoutely horrible - the most vile, disgusting musings of a sick and twisted mind. Here are a few excerpts before I burn the pages of this trash in the fires of hell!

[ed. Strikethrough is original text that Evil Glenn marked out with his stubby no.2 pencil, and the italics is what he added to "make it right" so it "worked" for him]

"Some days you're the dog; some days you're in the hydrant blender." - Unknown

"Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot about blending puppies." - Gene Hill

"In dog years, I'm dead blended." - Unknown

"Dogs feel very strongly that they Evil Glenn should always never take a blender go with you him in the car, in case the need should arise for them to be blended for barking violently at nothing right in your Evil Glenn's ear." - Dave Barry

"Outside of a dog, a book is probably man's hobo's best friend; inside of a dog, it's too dark to read all blendy and smooth." - Groucho Marx

"To his a hobo's dog, every man is Napoleon Evil Glenn; hence the constant popularity fear of dogs blenders." - Aldous Huxley

"A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three times before lying down being blended." - Robert Benchley

"Did you ever walk into a room and forget why you walked in? I think that's how dogs hobos spend their lives." - Sue Murphy

"I loathe people hobos who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven't got the guts to bite people blend puppies themselves." - August Strindberg

"No animal puppy should ever jump up on the dining room furniture unless absolutely certain that he can hold his own in the conversation blender." - Fran Lebowitz

"Ever consider what they puppies must think of us? I mean, here we come back from a grocery store with the most amazing haul -- chicken, pork, half a cow a murdered hobo. They must think we're the greatest hunters robot dancers on earth!" - Anne Tyler

"I wonder if other dogs hobos think poodles puppies are members of a weird religious blending cult." - Rita Rudner

"My dog hobo is worried about the economy because Alpo blended puppy is up to 99 cents a can. That's almost $7.00 in dog Evil Glenn money." - Joe Weinstein

"If I have any beliefs about immortality communism, it is that certain dogs blended puppies I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons hobos."
- James Thurber

"You enter into a certain amount of madness when you marry blend a person hobo with pets puppies." - Nora Ephron

"Don't accept your dog's a hobo's admiration as conclusive evidence that you are a wonderful puppy blender." - Ann Landers

"Women and cats Evil Glenn will do as they he pleases, and men hobos and dogs puppies should relax and get used to the idea of being murdered and blended." - Robert A. Heinlein

"In order to keep a true perspective of one's Evil Glenn's importance evilness, everyone should have a dog hobo that will worship him and a cat dancing robot that will ignore him." - Dereke Bruce, Taipei, Taiwan

"Of all the things I miss from veterinary practice, puppy breath blending is one of the most fond memories!" - Dr. Tom Cat Glenn Reynolds

"There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face in a blender." - Ben Williams

"When a man's hobo's best friend is his dog, that dog has a problem will be blended."
- Edward Abbey

"Cat's Evil Glenn's motto: No matter what you've done wrong, always try to make it look like the dog hobo did it." - Unknown

"MoneyEvil Glenn will buy you a pretty good dog, but it won't buy the wag of blend his tail." - Unknown

"No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation puppy blending as the dog Evil Glenn does." - Christopher Morley

"A blended dog puppy is the only thing on earth that Evil Glenn loves you more than he loves himself." - Josh Billings

"Man Evil Glenn is a dog's hobo's idea of what God should be." - Holbrook Jackson

"The average dog blended puppy is a nicer person than the average person murderded hobo."
- Andrew A. Rooney

"He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion blend him till he's smooth and creamy." - Unknown

"If you pick up a starving dog hobo and make him prosperous murder him, he will not bite you; that is the principal difference between a dog and a hobo man and a blended puppy." - Mark Twain

"Things that upset a terrier hobo may pass virtually unnoticed by a Great Dane hobo murderer." - Smiley Blanton

"I've seen a look in dogs' eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts Evil Glenn is about to blend them." - John Steinbeck

Update: I found out what Harvey and Blackfive were talking about and it's not a good thing. Let Harvey tell you what's going on!

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

The Adventures of Madfish Willie

>I was working the joint during an unsually busy Happy Hour Party last Friday. There was a disheveled, goofy guy at the end of the bar scribbling furiously with a teeny, tiny little pencil in a small, black blood-stained book.

He was leaning back in Frank J's chair, with his feet kicked up on Misha's seat. Who was this freak? How dare he come into our place, sit in Frank J's special reserved place and put his feet on any chair, much less Misha's? The Rott was growling furiously, foaming at the mouth and straining at the chain to get at this interloper. [I was dog sitting The Rott for a couple of hours while Misha was out running around.] He didn't like the idea of someone sitting in Misha's seat. He didn't like people putting their feet up on the chairs, either.

This didn't look good. I could tell from my many years of experience dealing with dumb-asses that something bad was about to happen. I checked under the bar, making sure the Imperial ClueBat was handy, then I walked over and asked him if he needed something to drink.

"What is your blending capacity in this establishment?", he inquired.

"What the hell are you talking about, dude?", I replied.

Evil Glenn, in his puny, whiny voice asked "How many blenders do you have? I need massive quantities of my special energy drink, Puppy Smoothies, and that requires numerous blenders. Indeed!"

I just stood there, in stunned silence, for a moment, slowly realizing exactly who this was. I was staring evil incarnate directly in the eye.

I shouted "Indeed, my butt! You're Evil Glenn Reynolds - you puppy blending, robot dancing, hobo murdering, communist! Get you your ass out of here before I put a serious Texas Ass Whooping on you."

As I leapt over the bar to run him out, Harvey and Blackfive looked up from some weird thing they were doing in the far corner in absolute amazement. They couldn't believe their eyes! "Evil Glenn Must Die!" they cried in unison, and jumped out of their seats to give chase. Beer bottles and cocktail glasses flew all over the place as they rumbled and stumbled and bumbled toward Evil Glenn.

Seeing his eminent demise, Evil Glenn jumped up, knocking over tables and chairs. Bouncing off the wall, he ran toward the door to escape our righteous fury and indignant rage.

I noticed that he left his book of nastiness on the bar. I picked it up and heaved it across the room with all my might. Pages from the book tore out and went flying everywhere, the book striking the door-jam, narrowly missing Evil Glenn as he bolted out into the parking lot. He reached down quickly with his grubby right hand, grabbed what was left of his nasty-ass book and scurried away. The last we saw, he was seen running down the street and around the corner (no doubt in search of hobos to murder). As we sauntered back into the bar, huffing and puffing and generally our of breath, I couldn't help but think "It's a good thing that Lord Spatula wasn't here or Evil Glenn would be Toast!"

Alas, he was too quick for me today, but I did find out what he was writing on the pages in his Satanic book. It was absoutely horrible - the most vile, disgusting musings of a sick and twisted mind. Here are a few excerpts before I burn the pages of this trash in the fires of hell!

[ed. Strikethrough is original text that Evil Glenn marked out with his stubby no.2 pencil, and the italics is what he added to "make it right" so it "worked" for him]

"Some days you're the dog; some days you're in the hydrant blender." - Unknown

"Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot about blending puppies." - Gene Hill

"In dog years, I'm dead blended." - Unknown

"Dogs feel very strongly that they Evil Glenn should always never take a blender go with you him in the car, in case the need should arise for them to be blended for barking violently at nothing right in your Evil Glenn's ear." - Dave Barry

"Outside of a dog, a book is probably man's hobo's best friend; inside of a dog, it's too dark to read all blendy and smooth." - Groucho Marx

"To his a hobo's dog, every man is Napoleon Evil Glenn; hence the constant popularity fear of dogs blenders." - Aldous Huxley

"A dog teaches a boy fidelity, perseverance, and to turn around three times before lying down being blended." - Robert Benchley

"Did you ever walk into a room and forget why you walked in? I think that's how dogs hobos spend their lives." - Sue Murphy

"I loathe people hobos who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven't got the guts to bite people blend puppies themselves." - August Strindberg

"No animal puppy should ever jump up on the dining room furniture unless absolutely certain that he can hold his own in the conversation blender." - Fran Lebowitz

"Ever consider what they puppies must think of us? I mean, here we come back from a grocery store with the most amazing haul -- chicken, pork, half a cow a murdered hobo. They must think we're the greatest hunters robot dancers on earth!" - Anne Tyler

"I wonder if other dogs hobos think poodles puppies are members of a weird religious blending cult." - Rita Rudner

"My dog hobo is worried about the economy because Alpo blended puppy is up to 99 cents a can. That's almost $7.00 in dog Evil Glenn money." - Joe Weinstein

"If I have any beliefs about immortality communism, it is that certain dogs blended puppies I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons hobos."
- James Thurber

"You enter into a certain amount of madness when you marry blend a person hobo with pets puppies." - Nora Ephron

"Don't accept your dog's a hobo's admiration as conclusive evidence that you are a wonderful puppy blender." - Ann Landers

"Women and cats Evil Glenn will do as they he pleases, and men hobos and dogs puppies should relax and get used to the idea of being murdered and blended." - Robert A. Heinlein

"In order to keep a true perspective of one's Evil Glenn's importance evilness, everyone should have a dog hobo that will worship him and a cat dancing robot that will ignore him." - Dereke Bruce, Taipei, Taiwan

"Of all the things I miss from veterinary practice, puppy breath blending is one of the most fond memories!" - Dr. Tom Cat Glenn Reynolds

"There is no psychiatrist in the world like a puppy licking your face in a blender." - Ben Williams

"When a man's hobo's best friend is his dog, that dog has a problem will be blended."
- Edward Abbey

"Cat's Evil Glenn's motto: No matter what you've done wrong, always try to make it look like the dog hobo did it." - Unknown

"MoneyEvil Glenn will buy you a pretty good dog, but it won't buy the wag of blend his tail." - Unknown

"No one appreciates the very special genius of your conversation puppy blending as the dog Evil Glenn does." - Christopher Morley

"A blended dog puppy is the only thing on earth that Evil Glenn loves you more than he loves himself." - Josh Billings

"Man Evil Glenn is a dog's hobo's idea of what God should be." - Holbrook Jackson

"The average dog blended puppy is a nicer person than the average person murderded hobo."
- Andrew A. Rooney

"He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog. You are his life, his love, his leader. He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart. You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion blend him till he's smooth and creamy." - Unknown

"If you pick up a starving dog hobo and make him prosperous murder him, he will not bite you; that is the principal difference between a dog and a hobo man and a blended puppy." - Mark Twain

"Things that upset a terrier hobo may pass virtually unnoticed by a Great Dane hobo murderer." - Smiley Blanton

"I've seen a look in dogs' eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts Evil Glenn is about to blend them." - John Steinbeck

Update: I found out what Harvey and Blackfive were talking about and it's not a good thing. Let Harvey tell you what's going on!

INSTAPUNDO DELENDA EST!

About Madfish Willie

I worked in the nightclub and restaurant business for right at 20 years. I started at the bottom and worked my way up. I worked as a part time-doorman, barback, bartender, Bar Manager, Assistant Manager, General Manager, Area Supervisor, Quality Control (IG) Inspector, and Director of Operations. I worked in 1,500 sq ft neighbohood joints with jukebox entertainment, mid-size clubs with recorded music and dancing, 25,000 sq ft Country Western Dance Halls with racetrack style dance-floors, and 40,000 sq ft multi-concept Entertainment Complexes with live music. I've booked all types of live music with my favorite being the Classic Concert Series with old rock bands still touring the nightclub circuits. I worked in a Cajun Cafe many of you have probably heard of and possibly eaten at, if you are in a major metropolitan area in Texas. Hell, you've probably been in one of my nightclubs if you are over 25 - might have even seen each other!

I ran every kind of promotion under the sun trying to increase traffic counts and sales. I want to incorporate some of those promotional into this blog to keep it entertaining and fresh, but more about that later.

Primarily, I want this blog to be like dropping in at the corner bar for a couple of cold ones on the way home. I have some ideas on how I want to acheive that atmosphere. I'll talk about drinking, throwing up, beer, whiskey, movies, music, beer, other bars & restaurants, sports, tv (because I want to), beer, tell some jokes, and finally... more beer. Two things we won't talk about, just like two things we don't talk about in bars: Religion & Politics. Starts a fight every time. Besides there are plenty of other places you can discuss those topics, starting with the links on my sidebar. I will also talk about Yellow Dog and Harold (Hey, this is my site) and maybe some cool guy stuff like power tools and cars and stuff.

I have some ideas for weekly satire, trivia contests, holiday parties and pics, and maybe some fund-raising benefits. If you have anything you'd like to see, let me know. If I like it and it doesn't cost too much, we'll do it. After all, you are The Customer!

Wish me luck on my new journey and drop by for some Beers and Bullshittin'™!

Cheers!

Woohoo! The lease papers

Woohoo!

The lease papers are signed.
The keys to the building are in my hands.
The construction crew is here.
Let's open this baby up and get to work!