The Top 10 Coolest Bartenders of All Time (Part 2)

As we noted in Part One of the Top 10 Coolest Bartenders of All Time, bartenders in films and TV, if they’re given any face time at all, are lucky if they get their day’s studio parking validated for uttering “I think you best see yer friend outta here” and wrenching a highball glass from the masturbatory grip of the protagonist, who is then propped up by his buddies and shuffled out the door while ugly looks are exchanged. More commonly, they get to tell some beat cop holding up a police sketch “Yeh, dat’s da guy… he was in here last week”, or are made to dive for cover to avoid shards of glass from the explosion of cheap bottles of booze whenever some vigilante cowboy/mobster/trucker psychopath shoots up the place.

This list is our effort to ensure that the unheralded film/TV bartender is remembered for something other than smacking a beer bottle off the odd noggin in the midst of a saloon brawl, or being a silent captive audience (at least until last call) forced to listen to whatever heart-rending problems that consume the star and require dulling with drink.

Movies, TV and music have given us many bars (for a more thorough accounting of just how many, allow us to recommend a visit to "Booze Movies", the '100-proof' Film Guide), and many barkeeps doling out the liquid courage, but only 10 notable enough to merit entry into this club. Last week we gave you the first five on our list, and here are the final five – The Coolest Fictional Barkeeps of all Time:

5) Georgie the Bada Bing bartender (Frank Santorelli, The Sopranos): Most of us have a pretty low threshold for what we’ll put up with in the workplace – if we belong to a union or know a good labor-rights lawyer, that threshold is almost non-existent. But there are some schlubs who will take abuse on a daily basis and still show up to work the next day in a good mood. Georgie Santorelli is the patron saint of those schlubs. We give kudos to Georgie for his dogged perseverance over the five years he served as Tony’s personal heavy bag. Georgie possibly set the record on the show for the most violence inflicted upon a character who does not end up getting whacked.

Georgie’s transgressions include maintaining his professionalism – wanting to get rid of melting ice for fear it’ll water the drinks, and trying to keep spirits up – he gets a vicious beating that sends him to the hospital when he tells Tony and the gang to “live for the day”. Georgie is beaten with the Bada Bing phone in season one, a novelty fish that sings “Take me to the River” in season three (Georgie’s hospital expenses must have been astronomical that year as he was also horribly beaten and nearly blinded in a chain/pool cue attack by crazy Ralphie), an ice bucket in season four, and Tony’s fists in season five. For exhibiting either really poor career judgment or having the most admirable work ethic on television, Georgie makes it into the Top Five of our list of the Top 10 Bartenders of all time.

Quote:
Georgie: Ice, Ton, when it hangs around it gets watery
Silvio: Georgie, be quiet
Georgie: But it dilutes the drinks, especially scotch
Tony (throwing an ice bucket at Georgie and rushing in for the attack): Here, throw it all away. Waste it all, f*ckin' John D. Rockfeller! Waste it all!
Georgie: Ow!
Tony (walking away): Conserve!

Here, in a Shark Guys special, is a compilation of Georgie’s beatings as doled out by Tony Soprano:





4) “Joe”, the bartender in Frank Sinatra’s “One For My Baby”: In the fourth slot, we turn to the world of song where Joe, the person being addressed in Sinatra's classic croon “One for My Baby (and one more for the road)”, has to cope with the dark side of drunkenness: the self-pitying, moody drunk who refuses to leave. The nameless narrator is well into his cups by the time he pipes up with this pitiful lament, and Joe is forced to listen to it: “It’s quarter to three/There’s no one in the place ‘cept you and me/So set ‘em up Joe/I got a little story I think you oughtta know."

Joe’s heard a million such stories, but he’s a gentleman and doesn’t toss this gin-soaked customer out the door so he can get a good night’s sleep. The customer even requests that the jukebox be turned on at this godforsaken hour: "I know the routine/Put another nickel in that there machine/I’m feeling so bad/Won’t you make the music easy and sad."

Finally it seems as if the customer realizes how much he's inconveniencing the barkeep and has decided to leave: "Well, that’s how it goes/And Joe I know you’re gettin' anxious to close/So thanks for the cheer/I hope you didn’t mind/My bending your ear."

But wait, he's still going on!: “But this torch that I found/It's gotta be drowned/Or it soon might explode/So make it one for my baby/And one more for the road." Another round! This guy wants to drink till the sun comes up.

Joe makes this list on behalf of all bartenders who have had to forsake a good night’s sleep to keep the drinks flowing for one lonely drunk holding up a bar. For this song sung from the bartender’s perspective, check out George Jones’ “Bartender Blues”. (Editor's Note: "One for my Baby" has the distinction of also appearing on our list of the Top Ten Drinking and Driving Songs of All Time)






3) Sam Malone (Ted Danson, Cheers): Before he became known for Friars Club blackface roasts, Ted Danson was one of three bartenders – the other two being Ernie “Coach” Pantusso (Nicholas Colasanto) and Woody Boyd (Woody Harrelson, whose post-“Cheers” roles made Sammy’s turns as a pusher of other stimulants in “Becker” and the short-lived “Help Me, Help You” pale in comparison) – at “Cheers”, the bar where, like secret police headquarters, “everybody knows your name”.

In Cheers, prior to donning Cosby knits and sporting an increasingly graying pompadour, Sam Malone was the innuendo-spouting ex-jock, keeper of a black book, which contained all the ladies he’d bedded at the height of the AIDS era, and was amusing foil to the cadre of unemployed drunks who comprised Cheers regulars. According to the show’s storyline, Sam is a recovering alcoholic; he might have been voted the number one fictional bartender of all time had more “Cheers” episodes involved him falling off the wagon and getting crazy drunk in the bar. Regardless, for his lady-killer ways, creativity in feuds with Gary’s Old Town Tavern, and ability to keep his clientèle happily pickled year after year, we salute Mayday Malone.

Quotes: Sam: What'll you have Normie?
Norm: Well, I'm in a gambling mood Sammy, I'll take a glass of whatever comes out of that tap.
Sam: Looks like beer, Norm
Norm: Call me Mr Lucky.



2) Nick from “It’s a Wonderful Life” (Sheldon Leonard): Oh the mystery that is Nick. When we first meet him he’s helping out a drunken George Bailey; along with his boss, an Italian stereotype named Martini (“Why you drink so much, my friend?”), Nick shows genuine concern for George and tries to help him after he’s cold-cocked by some angry drunk at the bar.

Fast-forward to the alternate reality of “Pottersville” – the world where Bedford Falls has become a cesspool because George Bailey wasn’t around to fix everything – and every shred of decency has left Nick; he now owns the bar and he’s become an insufferable, mean-spirited prick. Far from lending a helping hand, boss-man Nick tosses George Bailey and his angel friend out on their ears in the dead of winter for talking crazy – but not before spraying the pharmacist-turned hobo (one of many characters whose lives have gone to pot due to Bailey not having existed) with a seltzer bottle – a cruel act of humiliation done to the roaring delight of the evil crowd congregated there.

Theories abound as to what drove Nick to such ends – McSweeney's published a very good analysis of Nick's transformation from good guy to class A jerk (click here for that), which suggests, among other possibilities, that Nick may have been a minion for Satan. Regardless, his transformation is one of the most interesting and compelling parts of this feel-good movie that has lost its shine as we’ve seen it a thousand times, and we'll probably see it again if remotes get lost around the holidays.

(In a nice bit of booze-culture symmetry, Sheldon Leonard, the man who played Nick, also had a minor, though memorable role in “Cheers” -- he played the owner of Norm’s favorite restaurant “The Hungry Heifer).

And pour a drink for Number One on Our Coolest Bartender of all Time List:

1) Moe Szyslak: ("The Simpsons", voiced by Hank Azaria): In the number one slot is none other than Moe Szyslak, bartender and proprietor of Moe’s Tavern, Springfield’s own, gentrification-resistant watering hole on The Simpsons, as one yuppie puts it: ‘This isn’t a faux dive, this is a dive!” The squawk voiced hatchet-faced barkeep is the second pro boxer on our list, a testament to the numerous dangers that lurk in the nation's seedier saloons. Known as Kid Gorgeous, Kid Presentable, Kid Gruesome, and finally Kid Moe in his fightin’ heyday, he amassed quite an impressive consecutive knock-out streak in his brief pugilistic career—albeit, on the receiving end.

Moe is not only a true pop culture icon, but is also the only one on our list to have invented his own drink, the cough syrup-based libation, The Flaming Moe. This is of course, unless you count the Cheers’ gang’s ploy to oust a thoroughly unpopular barkeep, Wayne, who’d boasted he knew every drink there was—but was foiled by a made up vodka/vermouth concoction, The Screaming Viking (cucumber slightly bruised).

As Moe’s Tavern’s only employee, Moe’s the consummate multi-tasker, especially when it comes to the underground economy, overseeing a slew of illegal enterprises including a Russian roulette gambling ring right out of The Deer Hunter, a booze can, an animal smuggling operation, sports bookmaking, and loan-sharking to boost his pub’s often sagging fortunes.

Quote:

Moe: Seems nobody wants to hang out in a dank pit no more.
Carl: You ain’t thinking of getting rid of the dank, are you, Moe?

Moe is the consummate professional, always looking out for his crappy canteen’s bottom line: “If you're going to beat up my friend in my bar, there's a 2 drink minimum!"




Dishonorable Mentions:

Before we get to the names of those who would have fit perfectly well on this list let us first mention the deliberate exclusions, those whose tip jars weren't nearly full enough:

Tom Cruise, “Cocktail”: This 1989 double-Razzie-award-winning (worst picture and screenplay) is one of the few modern mainstream films made that focuses specifically on bartenders. The main characters drink throughout the entire film, yet despite that surefire recipe for success none of the characters ever appear to be drunk and the end result is a film that is neither funny nor interesting.

The Coyote Ugly Girls, “Coyote Ugly”: A terrible film connected to a string of bars with overpriced drinks and good looking clog-dancing staff members who may have had to go through the humiliation of participating in one of the most low-aiming reality TV shows ever made in order to get the job.

Quark, “Star Trek Deep Space Nine”: We just don’t get the whole Star Trek thing once William Shatner stopped being involved. Enough already.

The hapless bartender in the always hapless Steven Seagal vehicle, Out of Justice, featuring some of the worst tough-guy accents and per capita 'Hey Ritchie!' and 'Hey Vinnie's!' not seen outside a Rhode Island panini shop as well as another former boxer to add to the list.

Seagal, "Gino Felino", whose atrocious accent gives viewers a sampling of an indeterminate New York City borough, marches into a generic tough bar, and puts the smack down on every dirt-bag denizen therein. This includes the poor barkeep, who is at least knocked silly and doesn't have to witness any more ersatz, Scorsese-wannabe pony-tailed chop-socky.

Gino: I noticed a bunch-a boxin' mem-rabilia...We gots some gloves ova hee-ya. Pic-shas every-way-uh...(to the bartender) Who's da boxa?
Bartender: Me.
Gino: You da boxa?
Bartender: Yeh
Gino: You da tough guy?
Bartender: Tough enough
Gino: What could you do?
Bartender: To you? (Editor's note: Isn't this implied?)
Gino Felino proceeds to drop him like sh*t from a tall horse.





And now Honorable Mentions:

Sandra Oh, “Sideways”: For all the drunks who have ever given a glass-eyed glaze to a pretty barmaid, Sandra Oh, who plays a wine server (a job that would not be the equivalent of a bartender in any film other than this one), hooking up with Thomas Haden-Church in the booze-movie classic “Sideways” is a barroom fantasy played out on film (minus the part where she maliciously assaults him).

Nat (Howard Da Silva), “The Lost Weekend”: The main bartender in Billy Wilder’s powerful – albeit heavily melodramatic – film about when boozing goes bad, Nat, is a mix of a father figure and an AA sponsor for Don Birnam. When Birnam begs Nat for a drink, just one drink to get by, Nat responds, “Yeah, one. One's too many and a hundred's not enough. That's all.”

Ted Lange, as Isaac Washington in The Love Boat:
In each and every lost luggage-themed episode Isaac plies the passengers on board the Princess Pacific with enough umbrella-filled libations to lose their recently gained sea legs.

(Click here for Part One of The Top 10 Coolest Bartenders of All Time)

The Top 10 Coolest Bartenders of All Time (Part 1)

Hollywood, not surprisingly, has introduced us to some truly memorable drunks – think Billy Bob Thornton in "Bad Santa", or, far creepier and more likely to cause you to wake yourself up screaming, Gary Busey in "Carny".

But what of the men and women on the other side of the bar, patiently stomaching the hero’s bravado and slinging the drinks that fuel his adventures (real-life versions of which we chronicled in our book)? Bartenders are often left out of the spotlight, a point most clearly made by the fact that they are often not even given a name in film credits. Julian Lennon, for example, may have played alongside Nicholas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas, but to the world he will remain “Bartender # 3 in Biker Bar”.

We have attempted here to rectify that wrong somewhat and turn the spotlight on the profession of bartending with our “Top 10 Coolest Fictional Bartenders of All Time”. We offer this as a tip of sorts to all of the bartenders who have served us drinks in the past and been miffed when quarters were pocketed: enjoy and don’t expect much more from us anytime soon.

Here's the first 5 on the house (Click here for Part Two):

10) Danny Trejo: (bartender in From Dusk Till Dawn and Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy): Certain actors can’t help but be typecast – the guy who played the giant in Billy Crystal’s “My Giant”, for example, simply wouldn’t be believable playing the lead in a film about a meth-addicted horse jockey. Likewise, the gnarly-looking Danny Trejo, who has a tattoo of a woman wearing a sombrero emblazoned across his chest and has been on the wrong side of the plexiglass on prison visiting day, is unlikely to be cast as the highschool gym coach in a light comedy.

Danny Trejo is the only actor on our list to get credit for playing the role of barkeep in two (hugely different) films. His hellblazer persona was in full force when second cousin Robert Rodriguez cast him to sling drinks in "From Dusk Till Dawn". On the other end of the spectrum, in "Anchorman", he did what many good bartenders do – listen to a drunk’s complaints, and offer advice that is cheaper and (since it’s received while drinking) goes down better than that offered by a professional.

Quote:Bartender (Trejo): You know, times are changing. Ladies can do stuff now and you're going to learn how to deal with it.

Ron Burgundy: What? Were you saying something? Look, I don't speak Spanish.

9) Al Swearengen (Ian McShane, Deadwood): HBO’s excellent series "Deadwood" is quite possibly one of the most drink-filled shows ever to air on television. A bottle of whiskey is present at all meetings of import and a slew of bartenders are stationed throughout town to pour out the firewater and relieve recently fortunate miners of a bit of the weight of their gold. There’s Cy Tolliver and his flunkies over at the Bella Union, Tom Nuttall and his protégé, and of course the town centre/pub and whorehouse, The Gem Saloon, where Dan Dority and Johnny Burns serve drinks when they are not cutting throats. Also on hand with a bottle at all times is The Gem’s owner and series star Al Swearengen. Though not strictly a bartender, Al does regularly serve drinks in his establishment, at such times as when there is business to be conducted or treachery to be furthered for example. We picked him out of Deadwood’s huge bartender pool because, well, he has the very best lines in the show:

Quote: God rest the souls of that poor family... and pussy's half price for the next 15 minutes.






8) Lloyd from The Shining (Joe Turkel): Most who saw "The Shining" will remember Jack Nicholson’s unshaven mug breaking through a door to murder Shelly Duvall with a look of lunacy in his eyes. What may have went unnoticed in this one was a fine and creepy performance by Joe Turkel, who played Lloyd the pleasant bartender who helps Jack put to rest his long struggle with sobriety by getting him good and sloshed.

Lloyd the bartender is a figment of wacko Jacko's imagination, yet astute viewers will note that the level of whiskey in Jack Torrance's highball glass rises and falls throughout their demented conversation, and though some would say this is a continuity error, we're likely to suggest “cool parlor trick” by Lloyd. Besides, few bartenders can pull off a crimson velvet tux.

Quote: Jack: I like you Lloyd. Lloyd, you're the best goddamn bartender from Timbuktu to Portland Maine......or Portland Oregon...for that matter!!!
Lloyd: Thank you for saying so.

7) Jake LaMotta (The Hustler): We’re including this one simply because it’s a cool bit of film history that Jake LaMotta, one of the greatest boxers of all time, appeared in this classic . Of course, "Raging Bull", widely considered the best film made in the 1980s (or at least the best one in which Joe Pesci catches a beating), would later be made based on Lamotta’s life by Martin Scorsese, who would also go on to direct the (far inferior Tom Cruise-centred) sequel to this very film.

(It should be noted that Lamotta at the point of his appearance in "The Hustler" was past his salad days and into the “fat De Niro” part of "Raging Bull")

Quotes: Alas, there were no bon mots from LaMotta.

6) Frank Stallone ("Eddie the bartender" in Barfly): The Charles Bukowski-penned "Barfly" put Mickey Rourke on the map (though he shortly thereafter was added to the “missing persons” file for the better part of two decades) but it’s Sly’s unheralded sibling who steals the show in this one. As entertaining as Rourke is and as nice as Faye Dunaway’s legs are to look at, it would be pretty unlikely that you’d find either of them in a down and out boozecan like the one in this film. But you would find Frank Stallone – a dead-on embodiment of the egomaniac thug bartender. If you walk into a bar and the bartender looks like Frank Stallone in "Barfly", it’s time to find somewhere new to drink.

After administering a solid back alley thrashing to Rourke's Chinaski, Eddie drawls, "You'd think that son-of-a-bitch would've learned by now to stop tryin' me." Well, Chinaski doesn't learn ("I can take Eddie!") and with some much-needed 'fuel' (a sandwich) proceeds to whip him good in what seems like an unlikely turn of events. Regardless, that beating he takes helps cement Sylvester and Frank's fraternal cinematic legacy: best known for getting slugged in the kisser.

Quote: Chinaski: Hey you, you with the filthy apron.

Eddie: I hear a voice down there, but I sure as hell don't see much. Seems like dat beatin' I gave ya last night must've rattled ya bells.

CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO OF THE TOP 10 COOLEST DRUNKS OF ALL TIME!

Drunk bank robbery busted minutes later

This morning, rather than remark on last night's goings on, Oscar-wise and the obviously amazing adhesive properties of the primer used to affix John Travolta's hair to his bald noggin, or the nearly comatose presenter Harrison Ford (indistinguishable from the best performances he's ever given, minus the leather vests), we decided to focus on 'Best Drunk Performance During Commission of a Federal Felony', courtesy of a Chicago bank robber. [Editor's Note: Of course, in the event any of our seat filler insiders aren't shaken down and tossed out onto Hollywood Blvd and beaten, we'll give you updates on whichever drunken celebrity does something worthy of noting here.]

In the Shark Book, we chronicled a blotto bank heist that ended inauspiciously when the 'robbin' hood' headed to the nearest bar (and we're not speaking euphemistically here as it was two blocks over) and tried to buy rounds with his security ink-stained loot.

A Windy City brigand, following in that guy's shuffling foot-steps, made the unorthodox move of showing his identification prior to tipping off the teller that he was half in the bag, while instructing them to fill it.

“I’m drunk, lower the money, give me $2,000 right now in one hundred dollar bills. Right now, I don’t want to hurt anyone!” he drawled, reaching over and attempting to grab loot from the drawer.

A witness directed Chicago's finest to a restaurant one and a half blocks from the bank, where they found a man who fit the description of the robber just 15 minutes after the robbery.

Apparently, in the interceding 14 minutes, he had outstanding debts to pay as a bank audit reported $213 missing, and $18 was found on the suspect at the time of his arrest.

Man Streaking at Horse Race: And it's 'Drunk Idiot' by a nose!

As we noted in 'The Shark Book', horses once served man as a primary mode of transport and then were thanked for their years of service with new posts in society as fodder for glue and rendering plants and as a key ingredient in the nation's dog food.

Another popular use for horses has been to gather them at tracks, put lilliputian men atop them and force them to race one another while the audience bring ruination upon themselves through gambling, softening the blow of every lost dollar with a fortifying drink.

Occasionally, this spectacle of soaking up hooch like a dish rag, cursing and haggling with hookers is undertaken with pretension, as is the case with the running of the Royal Ascot. There, in '94 as we chronicled in the book, a drunk galoot, aiming to get a closer look at the 'gorgeous' (source newspaper's quotation marks) women in the Royal Enclosure, nearly got trampled to death in front of Her Majesty, the Queen Mother and the Duke of Edinburgh.

This recent example from NSW, Australia, though less benign (unless you count all the angry punters willing to put this man's life in danger for having nullified the race results) involved a man celebrating a stag party with his closest mates, who decided to strip down and offer up a photo finish [seen here]

Firewalk with me: Drunk burns feet in bonfire promenade

Firewalking is a technique that has been popular for centuries, ever since some fakir with a cart full of placebos to unload first gathered yokels around a coal pit and took the fiery walk in the hopes that they would believe he escaped burned feet because he was wearing the deity’s own socks and that the stinking concoctions he was doling out actually had some medicinal value.

Motivational speaker Tony Robbins was able to use firewalking to much the same effect – in his case unloading tapes and books featuring innumerable hours of him giving you advice that could be boiled down to the Fred Flintstone soundbite “Think big, be big Barney.” It should be noted that Robbins was not suggesting the intervention of a deity, but rather that spending a whole wad of cash to listen to him go on at some retreat in the woods somehow equips one with the mental juice necessary to make such a run without injury. Science-minded spoilsports later put the mysticism surrounding firewalking to rest.

The practice, far less impressive than a demonstration of one’s ability to walk on water would be, has carried on at motivational seminars across the world. (You know you’re at a bad motivational seminar when: a) you are made to pass an orange from under your chin to under that of a coworker without using your hands, and b) you cap off the penultimate day of the retreat with a firewalk.)

As surrounded as it is by an undeserved mystique, firewalking can result in injury, and some basics ground rules must be observed – chief among them that you should do your hotfooted dash across coals, rather than attempting to sprint through a bonfire. A drunk in Wigan England was evidently not a details man.

Drunk at a bonfire with a number of underage companions, the 24-year-old was said to have given in to repeated calls for him to do a “fire walk”. Stripping his shoes and socks off he dashed through the bonfire, burning himself badly. Melted bits of plastic trays that had been used by the environmentally-shocking bunch to build the fire along with rubbish were also stuck to the man’s skin.

Police found him when they went to extinguish the fire and later said after sending him to hospital that the stupidity of the man’s actions “beggared belief”. The upside for his youthful companions, presumably, was that there was one pair of sneakers no longer in use up for grabs following the episode.

College Party Crackdown: UK gets serious about freshman drinking

We can't speak for the US, where drinking laws are such that when you're finally legal you have a hairline receding more than a North Atlantic tide, but in Canada and the UK, you're able to drink, drive and vote all under the age of 20 (perhaps even in the same day if you have lots of errands to run)

In the UK, "freshers", ("frosh" in Canada, "freshmen" in the US) such as the girl seen here, taking a much needed study break, have been known to dull the rigors of those stressful first two weeks of class registration and receipt of more than three course syllabuses, by tilting the wrist. Now, the UK government is threatening a freshman orientation crackdown worse than when your Visa's declined at the corner bar and you've donned a hairnet and helped with the dishes.

According to a Sunday Times report, however, hypocrisy abounds as Liberal Democrat leader Nick Clegg, as a drunk teen (hencforce known for his dry wit), purportedly set fire to a greenhouse full of award-winning (?) cacti and PM Gordon Brown, while in student government fought against a proposal to cut student grants because recipients were spending too much money on hooch.

At Durham College, one social group called the "The Diced Carrot Club", (not a gathering celebrating the Vegan lifestyle and comcomitant hairy legs), is reputed to encourage members to drink until they are sick, not surprising really when you consider how prevalent boozing culture is across the pond and how during your formative years you need to get up speed--- it's the UK afterall, which gave us 'Bog Snorkeling', (whose genesis can only be explained as a result of the drink) as well as sports that take place in a pub rather than on a field.

A liver specialist at Newcastle U, confided to the PM over ginseng tea that "Students are being positively encouraged to go out and get blind drunk", which is the order of the day on this side of the Atlantic as spring break is rapidly upon us.

For our UK readers, 'Spring Break' is the time when NAFTA trade restrictions are violated by an influx of cheap women across the Mexican border, looking to bathe in tequila and take advantage of the lax drinking laws before returning to their studies.

According to a Downing Street responsible drinking advocate (read: buzzkill) "Many young people are away from home for the first time and are impressionable."

Drunk Challenges Police Car to a Fight -- and the smart money is not on the boozer

Blackouts are nature’s way of sparing drunks from having to forever remember the shameful acts they may have committed whilst in liquor’s clutches. (Though the legend-like feats of the worst among them have been collected for posterity in our book, “The Man Who Scared a Shark to Death: and other true tales of drunken debauchery). Also, in some places simply telling an arresting officer that you were so blotto you can’t remember a single detail of the crime you are alleged to have committed will result in you being set free with a sandwich and the best wishes of the city… or so we’ve heard.

A 25-year-old man in Lincolnshire England was arrested recently for a crime he committed while blackout drunk that one would have assumed involved the consumption of hallucinogenic drugs rather than alcohol – challenging a police car to a fight.

The man is said to have finished a night’s boozing by hopping up on the roof of a marked police car and shouting “come on then”, while swinging punches. The man’s motivation for singling out a police car for this aggression were not reported, though it appears not to have been motivated by frustrations over skyrocketing oil prices, global warming or a traumatic childhood memory involving one of the Herbie The Love Bug films.

The police car did not respond to being called out, but its occupants did. The man was arrested and later plead guilty to having caused criminal damage to the police car. After he sobered up and was asked about the incident, the man claimed to have no memory of it, though he added in an honest, if harsh, appraisal of his own character that “It sounds like something I would do.”

Taxi Cab Confession: Cab driver backs over drunk guy

In many respects, big city drunks have it easy over their blotto backwoods brethren. There's no need to blow a sizable portion of your paycheck--the remainder of what's been left in the jukebox of a local saloon--on a cab fare into the hinterlands, if cabs even service those back roads at all. At least you're occasionally able to stumble home if you remember such details as your address (which you distinctly recall scribbling on a napkin and stuffing into a stranger's purse) or that the shortest distance between two points is the straight line you cannot walk.

Sure you might wander into an alley inhabited by a tire iron-wielding maniac (who doesn't look like they drive but who take out their bus-pass related frustrations on the noggins of unwitting passersby), but you're at greater risk of having your reasonable facsimile of 'home' be a yellowing mattress hauled out on garbage day.

A Sydney man after a night on the town and eschewing public transit (a good move generally, as we've shown here) found out that navigating home in an urban milieu is fraught with peril even if you're taking what should be the safest route. According to the Daily Telegraph, a cabbie was arrested after allegedly reversing over the man, who he thought was trying to abscond without paying the meter fare---cab drivers being second only to bartenders on the service industry's 'most often stiffed when it comes to paying the bill' hierarchy.

The Aussie partier, whose drunkenness cannot be called into dispute as he would only give his name as 'Columbus', claimed he was 'smacked to the footpath', by the cab driver, not once, but twice. In keeping with the 'seeing double' sensory experiences often occurring in these situations, police investigators later confirmed that the cab had only reversed once.

According to reports, the cab driver had looked bewildered as he was lead away in handcuffs, asking why they had arrested him and not the man who'd recently painted the town fire engine red and didn't have the good sense to get off the road. He was later released without charge.
It's unknown how 'Columbus' fared the rest of his voyage.

Drunk Teen Swallows Apartment Key! Gives 'key parties' a new meaning

We all have our different ways of dealing with the inevitably of “last call”. Some of us order a tray full of enough high-octane booze to blind an elephant before the dreaded hour strikes. Others might drink only at places where the bartender is a childhood friend and a misguided sense of loyalty might persuade him or her to risk closure and/or heavy fines in order to keep the drinks flowing past the legally mandated hour.

But few of us are likely to be as dedicated to keeping the night alive as one British student -- pictured in the inset -- was. The 18-year-old was attending a party in the student residence and had drank six beers, along with some vodka and whiskey when his friends decided they had had enough of him and told him to go home and sleep it off.

Presumably at the stage of intoxication where not even this not-so-subtle invitation to leave was registering, the young Brit chose to fight for his inalienable right to party in a way that one might not expect from those out of short pants. In a tribute to those bizarre stage performers who consume things not meant to be taken internally, the youngster swallowed his key, figuring that all invitations to leave would have to be rescinded since he couldn't very well go home now.

Waking up after a night spent on a communal couch in the hallway of the dormitory, the youngster had no memory of his exploits on the night previous and thought that friends who told him about the key-swallowing were just winding him up. Abdominal cramps and a sore throat were enough to get him to reconsider this assumption and he went in for an X-ray -- pictured above -- which even made the attending physicians snigger (one wonders where doctors draw the line at laughing at patients? There ought to be a pamphlet for those just starting out, lest offence be given). He was told to "let nature take its course", and that he would be fine.

Nature did take its course and in what is the most disgusting aspect of this entire story... well let's just say he didn't have to pay his landlord the 20 pound replacement fee for a lost key.

Chuck E Cheese Off: No booze, cursing or gang colors at kiddie's restaurant

Long before Ratatouille came out and made the thought of rodents in the kitchen anything less than disgusting and a sure sign that the proprietor needs to have the lights dimmed and a board of health sign hung in the window, the rat-themed Chuck E. Cheese was welcoming in children of all ages (though single men over 40 going there would be met with a raised eyebrow) to munch down on unwholesome food and run their parents to the poorhouse requesting quarters to play their endless supply of arcade games.

Those of us who grew up on the Canadian side of the Canadian-US border will recall with varying levels of fondness being trundled over to the place on a special occasion -- like the first time a "D" didn't stain a report card -- for meals. Indeed, in the 1980s, after mom and pop Canuck had finished making their contribution to the bankrupting of their country by cross-border shopping and filling up on cheap USA gas and smokes, they would often share their savings bounty with the kids by taking them to a Chuck E. Cheese where someone in a giant rodent costume (a whiff inside one of those would likely turn you off the pizza) would jump around.

To the best of the authors' combined memories, aggressiveness and violence were not part of the Chuck E. Cheese experience -- unless some fat kid was getting lippy near the skee ball.

Times, however, have changed. A Flint Michigan Chuck E. Cheese outlet recently went to what would seem the extreme lengths of banning alcohol, profanity and gang symbols after a near-riot broke out there. The report said that the fracas involved anywhere from between "20 to 80" people. That they couldn't have narrowed down that figure somewhat does indeed point to something being not right in the house of Chuck E.

Officials later said that the incident was sparked by three teenage girls and did not involve alcohol nor gang activity as far as they knew, though surely their must have been the odd curse word uttered that would have required hands being cupped over the ears of every attendee at little Nancy's first communion party.

Drunk News Anchor!

It is best, when watching the evening news, to have pre-recorded it. That way you can skip through the horrors of the day and sports (unless you need to collect on Super Bowl bets) and catch only the good stuff like lottery results, the weather and, if you’re lucky, a report on somebody who has just turned 100 but can still dance the cha-cha-cha. The evening news, when carefully edited in this manner, can be almost enjoyable to watch.

Of course, the role of the news anchor is essential to the proper enjoyment of a news broadcast. The entire effect of a news broadcast can be thrown off by a newscaster with a face that suggests he’s 60 and a dyed head of hair that suggests a tin of shoe polish applied liberally. A good set of teeth, as well as age appropriate hair and makeup (and in some cases eyewear or modest head accoutrements – earrings, hair accessories etc – in the case of a female broadcaster) are essential. A newscaster must also be able to maintain a steady, neutral tone, banter pleasantly with field reporters and tolerate the zany weatherman, as well as be able to cough and move briskly forward after having butchered the pronunciation of a foreign word.

What makes good TV news anchors such cool customers? How do they rattle off the news day after day with a straight face and lead people to the (mostly) false assumption that they are actually extremely knowledgeable about what they’re reporting? In some cases, the answer might be that they are not wearing pants, and the cooling effects of this pleases them. In some other cases, the answer is that journalists as a whole are notorious drinkers and they don’t get any more red-nosed than TV news anchors.

A Korean broadcaster recently took a page out of "The Man Who Scared a Shark to Death (and other true tales of drunken debauchery)", or so it would seem, when he went on air to provide sports commentary while soaring a little too close to the angels, drunk possibly on soju, or some comparable form of Korean white lightning. Unlike the Irishman we covered, who was suspended after heaping scorn upon his home country's team and wishing them ill in an upcoming World Cup competition, Lim Kyeong-jin, who should be considered if an international version of the Top 25 Men Who Look Like Old Lesbians is ever compiled, took it upon himself to quit the broadcast after showing up red-faced following, of all things, a celebration to herald a recent win Korea enjoyed over Japan in handball.

Lim had slept following his handball par-tay with program staff, but a lingering drunk stayed with him and by the time the veteran sportscaster was on air he was slurring his words.

The report quotes the following tight-assed Internet commenter, who evidently reflects the popular sentiment: "I understand every human makes mistakes. However, drunk reporting is not acceptable, as broadcasting is for all people of the nation.''

Shark-Bite Movie Review: Soul's Code -- Khun Pleum belongs on a Wheaties box

ML Nattakorn Devakula, or “Khun Pleum", is Thailand’s answer to Brad Pitt. If you don’t believe me, just ask him; according to an entertainment column published in The Nation, Pleum himself made the claim in an email sent to friends encouraging them to see the movie. He likened his turn in “Soul’s Code” to Brad Pitt’s performance in the David Fincher film “Seven”.

Surely that’s an exaggeration Khun Pleum?! “That's not an exaggeration," The Nation quotes him as writing. "Must see it whether you like me or not [this is an odd condition to place in an email to friends]. This will be one of my legacies of the year to remember."

Khun Pleum might soon be the most “legacy”-heavy man in all of Thailand. He’s stacking up a pile of them. Those who aren’t familiar with Khun Pleum can quickly cure that ignorance by a) turning on the television: he’s on a host of programmes, even a game show! b) reading the Bangkok Post where he’s a columnist c) turning on the radio: he reads and discusses the news, and has even cut a pop album or d) merely looking up: he’s bound to be on a billboard or moving advertisement selling cars or toothpaste somewhere near you.

In “Soul’s Code”, Pleum plays elite Department of Special Investigation officer Kanon, who is assigned to investigate the case of a teenage girl found bludgeoned to death and stuffed into a cardboard box left behind a monastery. Fingerprinting of the box at this juncture might well have saved the DSI from having to pay overtime hours later on, but why split hairs?

Pleum plays the classic “tough cop with a history that you’d better not ask about for fear of a tongue lashing or worse”. Fortunately, the movie stays away from anything much having to do with the internal workings of the Kanon character and thus avoids overtaxing Pleum, who is at his best in quick moving scenes that require little more from him than a hard stare. When the camera lingers, as in the scene in which Kanon surveys the monastery where the body was found, Pleum’s lack of rhythm shows in the long pauses preceding the delivery of his lines.

Pleum’s other major thumbprint on this one is the presence of Nissan cars throughout. Take note of a scene where Kanon is an on all-night stake out in his Nissan. See how comfortable he looks with the front seat reclined– not a hint of lower back pain despite all that sitting! What comfort! What a car!

Ning’s (Napat Bhunjongjit-pisan) story is tied to that of Cee, a pop singer on the way down. When he finds out Ning is a hooker, making outcalls out of an Internet parlour to high rollers so that she can support his unemployed yet-to-be-discovered ass, he dumps her and takes up with Prae, a wealthy “model” who he can also mooch off and who eventually helps him realize his dreams of pop stardom. (Isn’t the artist’s life grand?)

In the interim, Ning gets brutally murdered. The main suspect is “Mister X”, a mafia boss who digitally records himself having it off with prostitutes. Ning waits until randy Mister X hits the shower before she copies these little vignettes onto her mobile phone. Included among them is “X” rigging a bid on a public-works project and Kanon assumes that he had her rubbed out to keep her from spreading this information. Cee, unceremoniously dumped by Prae and driven to alcoholism at the news of Ning’s murder, pushes him to solve the case.

Kanon’s colleague Nicha (Premsinee Ratanasopha) cautions him that all is not as it appears. In a telling scene, she warns him that because he was educated abroad (in more than one Thai movie, an education abroad robs the recipient of common sense), he relies too much on “facts”. Back in the old days, she says, and indeed even now, detectives worked closely with “special assistants” i.e. the souls of the murdered. “Let the spirit guide you”, is essentially what this high-ranking policewoman is advising.

Kanon responds with the logical question: If the dead woman is actively involved in the case, why doesn’t she give him some hard evidence; couldn’t she just plop the murder weapon down next to his morning coffee and save everybody a headache?

But this is a ghost movie, though one with little suspense that isn’t artificially created through clichés of the genre: characters in these films should avoid lingering in front of mirrors, and theatre sound systems are a director’s best friend when it comes to using brooding music and a subsequent loud crash to drive home a fright.

This is a film made boring by convention where the interesting bits are to be found at its edges – in the characters living in rundown stinking apartments in Lat Prao who consort with pimps and live off their callgirl girlfriends and the thin veneer separating all of this from the capped-tooth world of the “superstar”. There’s a movie to be made in these margins, and perhaps, if Khun Pleun has not become prime minister or the first Thai astronaut by the time a sequel comes up, he can take the starring role.

Noel, Bangkok

Editor's Note: After this review was published in Sukhumvit Eye, Khun Pleum announced that he was running for Bangok governor. The other three horsemen of the Apocalypse are saddling up. And for more on Thai movies, check out the best English-language site on the Internet about Thai film -- Wisekwai's Thai film journal.

Drink & Drive Your Way Through Grand Theft Auto!

Researching our book, we chronicled four separate, er, pastoral DUI incidences in which suspects slowly trundled away from authorities on