The Rock Bottom Pub Quiz is developing a loyal following, but some people are still afraid to put-up and/or shut-up. Here’s a sample round of questions from a few weeks ago just to show you pub quiz ain’t rocket surgery. Come on out on Thursday night to exercise a few brain cells and kill many, many more.

1 – Fred Flintstone’s wife’s name was Wilma. What was George Jetson’s wife’s name?
2 – In the movie Back to the Future, how many jiggawatts are needed to make the Delorean go back to the future?
3 – How many sides does a hexagon have?
4 – On the Price is Right, what is the name of the final one-on-one competition to determine the show’s winner?
5 – People from Ohio usually refer to Coca Cola or Sprite by what other name?
6 – What is the name of the process by which plants turn sunlight into food?
7 – What president is on a $50 bill?
8 – What is the name of Miley Cirus’s Disney stage persona?
9 – The band Simon and Garfunkel was made up of Paul Simon and, what was Garfunkel’s first name?
10 – What company sponsors the annual national hot dog eating Championship?

Don’t appreciate. HATE! HATE! HATE!
If you like Valentine’s Day, you’re either whipped by your significant other and/or Hallmark. If you think Valentine’s Day sucks (like we do), don’t just ignore it, do the reverse of love to it. Yeah! Hate it. Take that Valentine’s Day! Come to the H8Rs’ Ball Saturday February 13th without a stupid date and get drunk with us.
Yes, I know Valentine’s Day is on the 14th, but forget that ish. I like to throw the first punch.

Here’s how it works, you brainiac you. Pub Quiz is a trivia game we are going to be playing on Thursdays at Rock Bottom at 7:30pm (real time, not island time). It’s five rounds of trivia including (but not limited to) general trivia, sports trivia, history trivia, name that tune, name the movie the quote comes from, etc. All that useless knowledge can win you some beer and some loot, but you gotta pay to play.

I can guess how good you think you are, but how good are you, really? Put up or shut up Thursday nights at Rock Bottom.

A former decathlete recently traded his ten track and field events for one – drinking at Rock Bottom. He was good at it too, but as we all know, drinking can be exhausting. What better place to get some rest than right at the bar after you literally drink yourself under the table.
What bothers me is this… he got more attention from the chicks (there were others off-camera) while he was passed out than I did all night. And I was the bartender. Dammit. If anyone needs me, I’ll be up at the bar pretending to be passed out, collecting free lap dances.

We’re more than half way there. Take that Bon Jovi – you perpetually half-way-there chump!
The new patio is almost ready already. So I guess it’s not even “new” yet. When, it’s done, then it’ll be new. We’ll let you know when that is. Maybe if we drank fewer Heineken mini-kegs on the jobs we’d be done by now.

Or, Paris Hilton’s twin has a Paris Hilton. Now I’m confused. But that’s what happens when girls this hot hang out around our bar all the time. You should’ve been here when these lovely ladies got topless. I would’ve posted the not-safe-for-work photos, but all you pervs who keep checking our blog in hopes of some muy caliente pechugas (don’t lose hope compadres!) would get fired from work, and this blog would lose the two hits it gets per month because you’d never spring for internet service from home, especially not without a job. Anyway, we were talking about hot chicks, right? Well, I’m gonna go try to find these two chicks online. You know, maybe they’ll come back to myspace, and I can twitter their yahoo until they google all over my facebook. Ughhhh, maybe I went too far just then?

I can never remember that!!!
One of our very own cooks, Jimmy (who we all know and love), recently won 2nd place in what is basically the Miss Universe of chowder competitions up in Montauk, NY. I say “won” because 1st place is actually for losers who give way too much of a f*ck about what other people think. We’re not into that sort of thing here, in case you didn’t notice. We’re going to try to get Jimmy to work his chowder magic at Rock Bottom. The only problem is I ain’t seen many clams in Rincon – at least not the bivalves I learned about in 9th grade biology.

Girls used to dis me. Now they write letters cuz they miss me.
Oh really Biggie? Let’s talk more about that pissy part because we just got us a fancy new urinal at Rock Bottom. I think it’s the same urinal they have on the space shuttle. It’s definitely the kind Doc Brown would have put in the Delorian – if the Delorian was a camper instead of a coupe. Peeing into this thing is like peeing into the future, which is kind of what you’re doing when you’re peeing (I’d have to ask Stephen Hawking for some clarification on that). Anyway, this thing doesn’t use any water! Not only is this a contribution to the environment but also to the confusion of guys taking a leak, both of which are part of our mission statement at Casa Verde. The plaque that came with it says it saves 40,000 gallons of water per year per urinal, on average. That’s 40,000 more gallons of water we can drink to make us pee more in the water-free unrinal, thus saving more and more water. What a lovely cycle! The plaque also says “hands-free,” which means you don’t have to touch it to flush it. It doesn’t mean you flat out shouldn’t be holding on to anything while you’re going. I want to add a sign in there just to mess with people. I’m think something like, “To flush, clap hands twice.” Or, “Voice Activated Flushing System: Yell ‘Ouch it stings! It burns!’ to flush.” Sad thing is somebody would definitely try it.

…with some phat blogs for your muh muh fuh blah computer? It’s me, DooDoo. Yes, I know it’d be way cooler if Snoop was here, or those girls with the black boxes, but you’re stuck with me. Sorry – good to see you too by the way! I just got back from a little trip around the part of the world that used to be called Yugoslavia, and let me tell you it’s good to be back in Medalla-Land. I think the local beer in some of the countries I was hiding in brew their suds with some sort of laxative. Talk about great taste and less filling!
Anyway, the point of the story is that you can stop reading the paper or watching CNN now that I’ve re-entered the blogoshpere. All the best news is right here, but now I’ve got to run. Get it? Ahh well, it was a funny pun in Eastern Europe.