Rock Bottom rocks! I know it. You know. Your mom, depending who she is, knows it too. And now we have proof of how much some folks love this bar. Last night, I mean, this morning RBCV encountered its first somnambulist, which is a fancy word for sleep walker (in case it’s ever on your crossword puzzle). One of our guests rocked out hard on his last night here at Casa Verde where he’d been having an incredible time. At 6:15 this morning, our security cameras showed some activity at the bar. This fine young gent sleep walked from his room back up to the bar before sunrise, climbed up on to the bar, where he writhed around and fell back to sleep for about twenty minutes, nuzzling into the hardwood like it was a down comforter. He “woke up” again, sleep walked to the other side of the bar, and started to get cozy again before finally sleep walking back to his room. Some video analysts claim there was some subconscious pelvic thrusting going on on top of the bar. Hey, if you love Rock Bottom, you love Rock Bottom, whether you know it or not.

Holy crap! I don’t know which way it is to the beach. I can’t find sunscreen anywhere because it’s December. And I can’t find any good Mexican food in Puerto Rica. That don’t make not sense, do it?! I mean, I can’t even ask where to find a nice authentic Taco Bell because all these people speak that Spanish-talk.
I was so relieved to find Rock Bottom Bar & Grill and some nice boys that spoke my language. They understood all my complaints and were more than happy to listen to me bitch about how the world doesn’t seem to mesh with my small-mindedness. How nice. But then things got confusin’. The ketchup was in the mustard bottle, the mustard was in the ketchup bottle, the salt was in the pepper shaker, and the pepper was in the salt shaker. I asked for a drink on the rocks and the bartender filled my cup then threw it out into the parkin’ lot. Next time I’m taking a stay-cation so I don’t have to deal with all this bull.

So buy a drink for that booty! Or is it the other way around? Damn, this pirate stuff can be confusing if you aren’t drunk enough. Bartender! More rum! Anyway, it’s time for some privileged information… If the power ever goes out here (it rarely does), and you need to find us in the dark of night. Or if the afternoon cocktails have distorted your navigational readings. Or if you want to know, exactly, where the “X” on Rincon’s treasure map lies - I’ll share with you the exact coordinates to get you up belly-up to our bar. Huddle close and don’t let the scalawags see… 18°22′09.6″N, 67°15′29″W.

1) Rock Bottom and the Casa Verde store will not open until 7 or 8 pm on Thanksgiving (this Thursday), depending on how many Turkey coladas I have at Bill-dini’s.
2) DJ GuyPod show this Friday night, 10 pm.
3) Angelo Cordero surf pic slideshow this Saturday 10 pm (supposing I can figure out how to hook up the new DVD player by then.

Word to your mother.

Tomorrow night Rock Bottom has plans of being a one ring circus. Mike will be your ringmaster, but he’ll be sticking his head into our fiercely stocked beer coolers, not a lion’s mouth. At stage left, DJ Guy-Pod will be kickin’ it the way only he can, pumping out jams smoother than Play-Doh noodles with imaginary marinara. Mmm, Mmm! Look for the hot pink spandex again. He’s knows it’s not what you want, but it is what you need. Bring your dancin’ pants and maybe your sunglasses too because DJGP is bringing his disco lights, laser beams, and fog machine. Wipe that look of disbelief off your face - Icelandic DJs don’t lie. But they do shave their mustaches off. Sorry ladies, no free rides this time. Come on down and see who’s preventing forest fires. Hint: they’ll probably be staring at the laser patterns on the wall.

Current standings in the RBCV hair farming contest: (* denotes late entry)
1 - Mike
2 - DooDoo
3 - Ding Don*
4 - Bill-dini* (Rincon’s #1 Magician)
5 - Joe*
6 - Kelly Slater

Contest insider info: Mike is the real deal. Sicker follicles than most. DooDoo’s hair may be attached to his hat. That’s grounds for disqualification. Ding Don is back sans perm, which = longer locks. Bill-dini grows it fast, that magical bastard. Joe just cut his hair yesterday. His heart doesn’t seem to be in it, but he’s still beating SL8R.

The cheesiness! The bacony-ness! Ohhh, beefy joy! These are the burgers other burgers wish they could be. These are the burgers others burger wish they could go to the prom with. These are the burgers that make you make borderline inappropriate moaning noises in public when you eat them. These are the burgers Hugh Hefner would live with if didn’t have slightly better options. We’re trying.
I’d also like to draw your attention to those beautiful golden rings in the background. Mmmmmm, beer battered onion rings - and Rock Bottom is the only joint in Rincon where you can get ‘em.
It’s so easy being greasy.
Let us help you out.

After a three day closing for fall cleaning, Rock Bottom will re-open and rock out once again tonight. We’ve tweaked the place a little. Potato Head Pauly and the smoking octopus board have been accessorized and are now dressed for any occasion. We’ve added a timeout corner for the mongoloids, a measuring stick for our new carnival ride, and some new words of wisdom in the rafters from everyone’s favorite magician, Bill-dini pertaining to his most fundamental slight-of-hand technique. Coming soon is the RBCV pants-off dance-off. With our new fog machine and disco lights (and with DJ Guy-Pod waiting in the wings) we’ll be ready funk you up as hard as you can handle.

BAAAAAARgh FOOD!!! The season is almost upon us and Rock Bottom has the “new” menu ready to go. We’ll still be pumping out the dopest burgers in Puerto Rico along with quesadillas, wings, handmade mozz sticks, and your other bar food faves - now including a steak ‘n’ cheese sandwich. We made the salads walk the plank. Vegetarians and scallywags beware, we still have veggie burgers - but if we are what we eat, we’re hot tasty meat! Was that a hiaku? Almost. See you soon at Rock Bottom, where you get your grub-on and drink-on in Rincon.

We (heart) Lionel Richie Day was a stunning success. It all started in the wee hungover hours of the early afternoon here at Rock Bottom as DooDoo and Turbo opened for business. Lionel’s Say You, Say Me provided a calming ambiance as we “kicked the tires and lit the fires.” They had forgotten about the “awesome” lyrics and the entirely unexpected synthesizer rock-out that serves as the bridge. By the second playing of the song DooDoo and Turbo were working out the choreography that would serve as the catalyst for the evening’s shenanigans. When night fell, Say You, Say Me had played eight times already, and, counterintuitively, a crowd had gathered and started to rally for such a limited playlist. The somewhat synchronized dance moves of the staff became infectious and lead to some spirited interpretive dancing, mostly of the topless variety, on behalf of our patrons.
Thank you Lionel, thank you. The tally at the end of the day for Lionel songs played read:
Easy - 1
All Night Long - 6
Say You, Say Me - 17