AlphaBar: R is for Republic

The Republic - Wednesday, February 1st @ 8PM

Hail! Friends, AlphaBarians, Countrymen, lend me your beers!

Long has it been since our fair state was ruled by a senate of the best men, representing the needs of the masses. Nay, since Titus Matthew Sullivinium returned from his conquest in the North and demanded to be made consul for life, we have suffered under the rule of one man. It was a mere formality when he seized power and donned the laurel wreath, ere four long years past, and henceforth, the people of this AlphaRepublic have suffered under the autocratic rule of a despot! Caesar, indeed! Since that time, our wants and needs have been catered to only at the whim of this farce of a government. What little aid and security the government has provided has been overshadowed by the unquenchable thirst for flesh and mead Caesar's soldiers exhibit as they storm through the agora and take what they please, be it women or wine.

I beseech you, my fellow Alphacrats, let us not kowtow to this rapacious bigot who clothes himself in lambskins, but bears the teeth of the jackal. I tell you now, he is a fiend! Forget his destruction of the Beta Hordes from the South and the Upsilon Emirate from the East. His past victories were bought with the lives of our sons and brothers, but served more to line his pockets than promote peace. And now, he thinks he can buy our love with drink. Drink!

I implore you, AlphaBrothers and Sisters, do not attend this brigand's bi-weekly bacchanalia. He promises drink and music, but at what cost? Our children's bellies will not be filled by the promise of prizes and awards to be given at the end of the year. Yet, as in all things, this false Caesar thinks he can buy you off as he has bribed and flattered so many enemies into complacency. But what does he do once his enemies are sated? Murder!

My friends, the Beast has scheduled yet another of his sapphic orgies for Wednesday, February 1st. But we will not be there! No, friends, we will be attending a clandestine meeting of our own, and plotting the downfall of this consul of lies. And where else could we go, but Republic! That last bastion of sanity in a world gone mad with lust and rage.

Long have I waited for this day, my AlphaComrades. And when Caesar's blood is spilled in the gutters, the walls of our nation shall reverberate with the sacred words: Republic, Republic, Republic!

Buckshot Restaurant, Bar, and Gameroom
Wednesday, January 18th @ 8PM

***DRINK SPECIALS***
$2 PBR, Tecate, Black Star
$3 drafts
$4 well drinks

Hooo Doggy!

Howdy there AlphaPokes! Been a long time! Ol' Rusty here's been bidin' his time, but I couldn't pass up a chance to come see all my favorite cowboys and cowgirls at my favorite bar this side of Omaha! Buckshot! Boy, there's a great bar if I ever seen one. Let me tell you.

They got games, cheap beer, all the whiskey you can drink, and some kind of deep fried bacon wrapped goodness comin' out from the little 'ol kitchen in back. Last time I showed up, I saddled right on up to the bar with my horse. Bartender says, "Why the long face?" Hoooeeey! I just about jumped across the bar and slapped him. Goodness gracious! A man insulting my horse like that. Some nerve.

Anyhow, next time I showed up, they had a big "no horses" sign. If we'd a been in Omaha, I woulda stormed right in and demanded retribution. But here in San Francisco, I guess a man's gotta expect not to be allowed to bring his horse to a bar. So no horses. But like I always say, save a horse, and ride this here cowboy! Yeeeehaawww!

And horses drink free every Wednesday night. Well, not really, but good lookin' ladies certainly do! But seriously, I would love to see that danged bartender's face if you bring a big 'ol stallion inside. Just tell 'em he's a service animal.

She was a tall, cool drink of water, sitting at the end of the bar, sipping her drinks like she meant it. Whiskey. Rocks. No water. I counted four, but she had been there all night, looking like she was waiting for someone to pick her up. Not your typical broad. This girl was smart and she could handle her liquor. Twelve different chumps tried their luck. Twelve different chumps walked away, looking like their first puppy just got run over by a garbage truck. Poor bastards didn't know what hit 'em. But I was different. I was lucky number 13.

Of all the seedy little gin joints in all the seedy little towns, she had to walk into mine. Well, technically, I walked into hers. But I wasn't there to play games. And I wasn't one of those poor fools who couldn't pick up a dame if she was in a box and he had a forklift. They were about as likely to get lucky with that dame as I was to win the lottery twice on a Tuesday.

Not one to lollygag, I walked right up to her, turned to the bartender and said "two whiskeys, rocks." Then I turned to her and said, "what's a broad like you doing in a place like this?" That was when I noticed her throat. Her adam's apple was twice as big as my thumb, and s/he had the hands to match it. Sasquatch doesn't have hands that big and hairy. She/he said, "hey stranger," with a voice deeper than James Earl Jones with laryngitis after a three day bender.

Now I don't know if it was the smoke-filled room, the dingy lighting, or the eight whiskeys, but he was the best looking woman in that bar. And once you make your move, there's no going back. Thank God we were in the Castro. This was going to take some more drinks.

But I wasn't in that bar to pick up on loose women or pretty men. I was there on the job. The AlphaBar crew hired me to investigate every bar in the city with an L in its name. Well, they might have asked me only to go to the ones that started with an L, but I'm as thorough as a TSA agent on a muslim when I'm on the job. So I hit them all. And Lucky 13 was the best bar in that wretched little town. The best looking men, the strongest women, and the cheapest beer.

So we'll be heading down to Lucky 13 this Wednesday, packing that place like a Justin Bieber concert in a pedophile colony. And that friendly gentleman with the pouty lips knew the bartender, so (s)he got us some damned fine drink specials. I personally will be drinking more whiskey than a tribe of Indians who just finished a death march. Here's looking at you kid.

Wednesday, November 9th @ 8PM
Lucky 13
2140 Market St
between Church St & Sanchez St

Pics are up from the Kozy Kar!

Had a turn out of around 120+! Good work guys!

AlphaBar is now on Twitter! Follow us here!

http://twitter.com/AlphaBarSF

Alright, alright, alright, alright.

What's goin' on AlphaBabes? Man, I've been looking forward to this alllll year. I'll tell you what, man, this is gonna be the best damn AlphaBar of the year. We're goin' to my favorite bar on the grooviest street in San Francisco. Kozy Kar, Baby. It's where it's at.

If you're like me, you've probably been there every night for the past two weeks, but if you haven't, hey man, it's cool. ...I won't get on your case just because you got some other bar you like. That's your journey, man. You don't have to come to Kozy Kar. If you don't like groovy tunes, righteous babes, and some far out bartenders servin' up a couple brews, that's cool, man. You don't have to come. But it'd be a lot cooler if you did, man.

If the owner's cool with it, we can turn on some funk, break out a couple joints and light up. Just make sure we keep a bouncer outside to watch for the fuzz. And speakin of fuzz, they've got some fuzzy walls, a kickin shag waterbed if you wanna get down with one of those aforementioned groovy chicks, and a dance floor with some sweet Playboy centerfold pictures. If that chick you're boogyin with isn't quite as hip as you though, bam, take a look at the floor. It's like dancin with an angel. But she's naked. And a picture.

Anyways, man, I just wanted to let you know the deal. We've been listening to you, man. You said there wasn't enough porn in your life. Boom. You said you needed more seventies and disco-themed bars on Wednesdays. Boom. You're welcome. You said you wanted AlphaBar to be at a dirty strip club with loose rules. Hey man, two out of three ain't bad, right?

Haha, anyways man. It's gonna be a great time. Better than that rager at the moon tower last week. I promise. And you know the best thing? The girls there tend to stay in a certain age group. I keep gettin' older, they stay the same age. Catch you on the flip side.