Thursday, June 01, 2006

Those new flushers at Duffy's

Our hat is off to Duffy's for having chosen to add the automatic flushers at the male urinals. (I guess there are NO female urinals.)
For a few months now, they've had those things where all a guy has to do is zip us, wipe his hands on his levis and walk away without having touched the filthy flush handle, (unless you got wet, whereupon one washes ones hands.) Your movement causes it to flush. Cool.
Previous to that innovation, your commentator remembers a visit to Puerto Rico in which he found a system by which one flushed the urinal by pushing a pedal on the floor to the right of the porcelain. No hands....
Cool amigo.
I don't know what the women have in regard to auto-flush. But, the men are phat.
Please feel free to discuss your flushing issues.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

Duffy's is a bus destination

Last Saturday I arrived at Duffy's just as a Red River Trails charter motor coach, (bus,) pulled up. They downloaded about 40 college-age males. They piled in and the jukebox got turned up. What a crowd. They ATM got a workout. I think I'll hit the place tonight and see if another busload arrives to challenge the serve-crew at Duff's.

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Congratulations to Nicki

One of the foxy-loxy barteneders at Duffy's is graduating from college and today/tonight is her party! Nikki, (sp) and friends will be at the old home place tonight, reveling and celebrating. Way to go Nickster. You're one in a million...OK, twenty-six million

Tuesday, May 02, 2006

photo courtesy of some guy the other night.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Juke Box Saved!

Duffy's has always been known as the place with the hippest, happenest juke box in town. Everything from sappy Irish ballads to that danged Dave Mathews with some country tossed in. Eclectic. It's a traditional jukebox except nowadays it plays CD's. Loads o' Tunes.
Evidently, from scuttlebutt picked up on the east side of the room, there were attempts by certain music providers to get Duffy's to TAKE OUT THE JUKEBOX and put in some fancy-dancy high-tech digital data-based hard drive playback unit. (Did I use the hyphens appropriately?)
I don't know who made the decision to keep the juke they have now. But, whoever it is, is due a drink.

Monday, April 17, 2006

Here's a link:

You might check out this site, courtesy of Laura, a new regular at Duffy's, Fargo.
"Modern Drunkard dot-com"

Friday, April 14, 2006

A Definition of Terms:

One Star Hangover (*)
No pain. No real feeling of illness. You're able to function relatively well. However, you are still parched. You can drink 5 Cokes and still feel this way. For some reason, you are craving a steak & fries.

Two Star Hangover (**)
No pain, but something is definitely amiss. You may look okay, but you have the mental capacity of a staple gun. The coffee you are chugging is only increasing your rumbling gut, which is still tossing around the fruity pancake from the 3:00am Waffle House excursion. There is some definite havoc being wreaked upon your bowels.

Three Star Hangover (***)
Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy. You are definitely not productive. Anytime a girl walks by you gag because her perfume reminds you of the flavored schnapps shots your alcoholic friends dared you to drink. Life would be better right now if you were home in your bed watching Lucy reruns. You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water, 3 iced teas and a diet Coke -- yet you haven't peed once.

Four Star Hangover (****)
Life sucks. Your head is throbbing. You can't speak too quickly or else you might puke. Your boss has already lambasted you for being late and has given you a lecture for reeking of booze. You wore nice clothes, but that can't hide the fact that you only shaved one side of your face. For the ladies, it looks like you put your make-up on while riding the bumper cars. Your eyes look like one big red vein, and e ven your hair hurts. Your sphincter is in perpetual spasm, and the first of about five shits you take during the day brings water to the eyes of everyone who enters the bathroom.

Five Star Hangover (*****)
You have a second heartbeat in your head, which is actually annoying the employee who sits in the next cube. Vodka vapor is seeping out of every pore and making you dizzy. You still have toothpaste crust in the corners of your mouth from brushing your teeth in an attempt to get the remnants of the poop fairy out. Your body has lost the ability to generate saliva so your tongue is suffocating you. You don't have the foggiest idea who the hell the stranger was passed out in your bed this morning. Any attempt to defecate results in a fire hose like discharge of alcohol-scented fluid with a rare 'floater' thrown in The sole purpose of this 'floater' seems to be to splash the toilet water all over your ass. Death sounds pretty good about right now....