Vodka & Pancakes

the things I eat and the drinks I drink…a Louisiana blog


Ghost Bar is Closing. Where will all the douches go?

Ghost Bar in Dallas is closing.  Wah-wah.

I have only been once, paid $20 for my drink  and got hit on by truly the most desperate person I have met to date.  As I sat there silently hoping he would pay for my $20 beverage (he didn’t.  Surprised?  Nope.) I realized this place blows.

Honestly, how does something I can make for $1.15 cost $20?  I guess because idiots like me pay for it.  So, I had two.

People kept telling me I needed to go outside on the terrace, that the floor is made of glass and you can see all the way down 33 floors.  No thanks.  Nothing rips a panic attack straight through my body quite like standing outside the side of a skyscraper.

So where will Tony Romo go hang out now?   Here’s the answer- no one gives a shit.


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The Dungeon. A Vampire Bar. Obviously.

It took me bit to decide to write about this since its quasi-fucked up and portrays me like an idiot.  I would say, ‘don’t judge’ but based on all the other material in this blog…blahblahblah.

I was in New Orleans this past week, seeing as my boyfriend has family there we try and go a couple times a year.  We had walked around the Quarter during the day, going in and out of shops, bars, etc.  We had walked by this bar called The Dungeon (dun-dun) and my boyfriend non-chalantly said it was a vampire bar that opened at midnight.  Well I un-non-chalantly pointed out that we don’t have many Fangtasias in Fort Worth and let’s please acknowledge that shit’s crazy.  I knew True Blood was real.

The next day we decide to have Sunday Funday so we woke up went to Dante’s Kitchen for brunch and started drinking.  One of my boyfriend’s insane friends (understatement) joined us and next thing you know everyone is drunk (understatement).

I state my intention that at midnight we are all going to The Dungeon.  At this point it’s 1:30 and we have been at it since 10am.  No one believed we (let alone me) would last til midnight to go hang out with vampires but I was determined.  Everyone had stories about this place but had actually never been.  Sex in public, people actually drinking blood, etc. So obviously my interested was peaked.  I was on vacation and ready to see some crazy shit.

It dwindled down to three (we left the guy my boyfriend’s little sister was hitting on at the bar because he was a total douche and I’m almost positive he was missing half his brain) and when midnight finally hit we set off for the French Quarter.  We went into the front door of The Dungeon only to find you have to walk down this extremely dark narrow path, which I swear was like half a mile, covered in trees (dear God New Orleans is fucking humid) down a stone alley way that takes you to the front of the bar.  We showed our IDs to get in and went into the darkest bar known to man.

My picture sucks but obviously the place was dark.  I mean all the vampires would have died otherwise.  In all honestly, I had been drinking for 14 hours and there was a sign on the wall that said no pictures.  But, vampires don’t show up in pictures so I don’t really know what their problem was.  Anyway I tried to be sly, almost fell out of my seat but I got his great pic.

 Everyone in there looked normal, especially the fat old dude in the corner but he bought all our drinks so he ended up being pretty cool,  but since I hadn’t seen a vampire before I wasn’t sure what to look out for.  I sure didn’t see any people having sex and I sure as fuck didn’t see Alexander Skarsgard.

I guess vampires don’t like Sunday Funday.  So I went back to the hotel, ordered a grilled cheese and passed out.

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Pop’s Safari & Bath Tub Wine

Before I went to my previous post’s wine tasting, I stopped to have some wine first.

It had been awhile since I had been to Pop’s Safari.  Seeing as last time I was there I broke two wineglasses, I decided it would be good to put a little distance between the two of us for a bit.

Here is how I would describe Pop’s: hot and smelly. It’s a quaint little cigar bar where the average occupant is 67 and male and the wine is mediocre at best (one might make the comparison to bath tub wine, which I have had and can legitly make that comparison).   The room temperature is a cool 96 degrees and is thick with cigar smoke.   Don’t mind that fan next to the bison face (or whatever the fuck that is), it’s just blowing some blazing hot smoky air in your face.

It’s very hunter’s lodge-esque feeling with all the dead animals covering the walls.   I would rank my fun level right up there rivaling this zebra’s.  Speaking of fun times, it also rivals the hour wait in line at Trader Joe’s I had the other day.  My significant other and I left without finishing our wine which is something I usually refuse to do out of principle but seeing as it was cooler to stand outside in the sun we went with that route.

So if you are out on the prowl, looking for a 60+ gentleman, hit up Pop’s.  It’s hot as shit in there, so don’t wear your clothes.


Don’t pass out in your car…

So I wrote this post about Boomberjack’s (Boomerjack’s in case you were confused) and apparently there are good times to be had there.

Saturday morning 7am– we go downstairs to walk the dog and find this man passed out in his car.  It was too stupid not to take a picture.

The only place I can think that you can get that drunk downstairs is Boomberjack’s or he is waiting patiently for Radio Shack to open and we all know no one goes there.

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Boomerjack’s, henceforth known as Boomberjack’s

To say that yesterday I was in  bad mood would be quite an understatement.  My other half came home from work wondering where dinner was (I work from home, which I’ve noticed has seemingly lead everyone to believe I don’t do anything anymore) and I was not so inclined to make anything.  I was taking a stand.

Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your feelings of this place), that stand led us downstairs to Boomberjack’s.

So a couple things about this picture.

That glass of wine in the background?  Yeah, it’s there, I said I had a bad day.  Actually, after reading this I am trying to justify my delicious quesadilla and bad wine combination…I can’t.  Just leave me be.

Also, to say I am an expert on quesadillas would be like saying I am an expert on rocket ships (Note: I currently am not an expert on rocket ships) but these were really good.

So good to say, next time I am in a bad mood I will probably be headed to Boomberjack’s for more boxed wine and quesadillas.  They also have drinks served in fishbowls.  I don’t know if that appeals to anyone.

But I’ll probably save that shitshow for a really bad mood.


Daybreak again? If I must…

Daybreak?  nomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnomnom…  I think this must be how they serve their plates.  This is what mine always looks like.

Actually this time, we (my other half and I) went with another couple the morning after a late evening that included a stint at the White Elephant (side note part 1: last time I was at White Elephant I threw up in the planter box outside at 3pm so I try not to frequent all too often).    She laughed at how much I ordered then I amazed (might not be the right word) her with the fact I ate it all .  Yes, I was hungry…so, yeah, I ate it all (and four pieces of toast off her boyfriend’s plate which I dipped in salsa.  Oh god, it was delicious…).

Side note part 2: There was this taco place (who will remain nameless because I’m about to talk shit) that was across the street from where I live and connected to a bar.  So I would drink too much and go eat tacos, maybe twice (four or five times.  Get off me) a week.  WELL, once I ate there sober.  Life changing.  I finally found out…it actually does not taste good.  Not good at all…  It’s like the first time you eat Whataburger sober after college.  You realize it’s not delicious and you question why you have been doing this to yourself for years.

It’s asounding the impact alcohol has on your tastebuds.  I don’t even want to know what Taco Bell tastes like (speaking of which, I think I left my credit card there Friday night.  Might need to look into that…).

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Yukatan Taco Stand

To say I might have been over served last night would be an understatement.  My evening started classy at Saint Emilion, started going downhill with my arrival at Showdown (two things about that statement.  1- who goes to Showdown after going to Saint Emilion?  Obviously I should have just gone home at that point.  2- I have my own mug there.  Awesome or I seriously need to get my shit together?…I haven’t decided yet) and ended poorly at Jack in the Box.  Judge me, it’s fine.  I do.

But, point being, it resulted in delicious tacos for lunch today.  Not a total loss.

I like Yukatan because I like the table hot sauce.  It’s tasty and mucho spicy.  That and the frozen screwdrivers are strong.  Not that I will be having any.

Oh god, maybe just one.

909 W Magnolia