TKI67

Super Member
1,169
United States
Texas
Austin
http://www.insidesocal.com/davidallen/2013/12/03/stinkys-inside-and-out/

Stinky’s In Upland, CA was a favorite spot for the students of Claremont Men’s College. It was on Route 66 and bikers loved it, too. It was a stone hut in the wash at the foot of Mt. Baldy. The beer was icy cold, the burgers were greasy, and the picnic tables were totally covered in carvings. Alas, it is rumored that someone poured concrete in the toilets and that was why it closed.
 

eagle2250

Connoisseur/Curmudgeon Emeritus - Moderator
29,903
Harmony, FL
United States
Florida
Harmony
^^Uh-Oh...
Rumor has it that I've stopped up a toilet or two over the years, but I never used concrete to do it and they've never closed the place down...at least not permanently! LOL. ;)
 

derum

Suspended
1,572
United States
T
Houston
Very dangerous!
This was the Red Lion on Great Windmill street in Soho, just off Shaftesbury avenue. It was a great place to drink, people watch, and start a tour of Soho's best haunts.
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"progress" happened, they closed it and re-opened it as this:
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[email protected] my arse.
 

Oldsarge

Moderator and Bon Vivant
11,183
On the banks of the Willamette
United States
Oregon
Oak Grove
There was a Red Lion across the street from Presidio San Francisco that we patronized on occasion. But around the corner from it was the Vienna Schnitzel Haus and it was the absolute bomb for young, civilized GI's and their families. Best. Strudel. Ever! And beer by the pitcher . . .
 

Dcr5468

Active Member with Corp. Privileges
418
United States
Louisiana
Mandeville
Pravda, Decatur Street, New Orleans, 2008.

Pravda, which was an "early soviet themed" absinthe bar on Decatur St, in the Vieux Carre, just around the corner from the Richelieu Hotel, where I lived while working in NOLA. Pravda had one of the most eclectic clienteles of any bar I ever frequented. I was there almost every night for 2 months. Artists, vinyl bondage fetishists, F&B late nighters off from their restaurant shifts, reactionaries, communists, neo-fascists, academics (me), a general menagerie of friendly and well spoken freaks. $2 PBRs kept the Prols like me happy. On my last night there I tipped the staff out very well. I think it closed within a year.

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Cheers,

BSR
I remember this place but dared not go in.

Bar Vin and the adjacent old Absinthe House are my most likely stops when in the City



Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk
 

ChrisRS

Active Member with Corp. Privileges
215
United States
Georgia
Atlanta
One more, from a more innocent time.

Playing little league next to the Tobin Packing Plant. The smell gut wrenching yet hunger inducing. Home of Tobin First Prize hotdogs!

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After the game, we would walk across the street for two cent Bazooka Joe.

This was just as life forming as my previous entry, but not nearly as perilous as being in downtown Albany at 2 in the morning.
 

cosmotoast

Active Member with Corp. Privileges
286
I shall assume the lower class of remembering the past in my hometown with this chicken joint although I'm told Marylands still exist in some areas.
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Big T

Active Member with Corp. Privileges
354
United States
PA
DuBois
Ah, I've lived a bucolic life growing up, no pics, except mental! Learning to drive on an International Farmall tractor at the farm we all gathered at growing up. Winter, we couldn't afford a toboggan, but we could take the hood off an abandoned Chevy, left, along with other discarded vehicles, out in the back acreages. Far faster than any wood sled. The shacks we built in the woods.

The mental pictures grow sharper every passing year and at each passing of one of my chums.
 

Peak and Pine

Honors Member
4,223
United States
Maine
Mars Hill
Ah, I've lived a bucolic life growing up, no pics, except mental! Learning to drive on an International Farmall tractor at the farm we all gathered at growing up. Winter, we couldn't afford a toboggan, but we could take the hood off an abandoned Chevy, left, along with other discarded vehicles, out in the back acreages. Far faster than any wood sled. The shacks we built in the woods.

The mental pictures grow sharper every passing year and at each passing of one of my chums.
You had me at Farmall tractor. Drove one when I was nine. Briefly, but still. Huge and red and beautiful. I was given a new Toro riding mower a few years back by a brother who took pity on me and my pusher, pushing it down slope, pulling it up slope, over rocky, mossy sorta-lawn that's really a field. Have never used it. Won't. Not after sitting astride the Farmall. You don't plunk Buffalo Bill on a pony.
 
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