Casa Verde Guest House

…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.

I’m outta here! Despite some passport complications, yours truly is gettin’ gone for a while. Passport, shmassport – Like Matthew Wilder said, “Ain’t nobody gonna breaka my stride. Ain’t nobody gonna hold me down. Oh no! I got to keep on movin’!”
There may be some guest bloggers in my absence, but for now, I’ll let the suspense kill you….

Yes, it’s true. A certain Rock Bottom bartender (me) is indeed in not one, not two, but three TV commercials in Puerto Rico right now. That makes me about as famous as this guy -

But, don’t worry, I’m not letting the whole fame thing go to my head. So whatever, I have a personal shopper now, a personal trainer, personal bathers, like five iPhones, some sweet whips, a private yacht, tons of women throwing themselves at me, tons of women throwing themselves at my yacht, four new snowmobiles (yes, in Puerto Rico), and a guy who signs my autograph for me. A word on celebrity, if I may… Listen, I’m still just a normal guy, and keep in mind…

Well – I don’t – not anymore. I have an assistant who does it for me, and it doesn’t stink. But I’m totally still the same old me.

Written by: DooDoo’s new blog assistant.

This is a knife.

Yo Mick, where were you when I needed you? Probably chasing sheilas and slamming Victoria Bitters at the the pub, weren’t you laid back leathery bastard. I forgive you though because that’s one nice coat.

Jacko has passed on, marking the end of a period in time when most people in the world went from verbally hating-on him to a time when those same people fervently declared what true, undying (so far) fans they’ve been all along. You silly turncoats. Funny how it took a dude’s death for it to be okay for you to finally “blast” Human Nature from your Geo Prism’s “system” and not worry about being publicly chastised for being a pansy. Enjoy.
In other news, I read somewhere on the internet (which means it’s true) that MJ – on a slow night – would down 10 Xanax before bed. You know, just to take the edge off. Other nights he reportedly chomped down 30-40 Xannies. Yeah, I know. Hooooooly shnikes!!!
It is sad that the best dancer in history and inventor of The Moonwalk has died, but let’s focus on happier things like other under-celebrated dance moves – like the Truffle Shuffle.

I feel better already. After all, it’s way easier to do than the Moonwalk, and Goonies never die, so Chunk will never let us down. Sweet, right? Or is it Goonies never say die? Whatever. Look it up on the internet. I have some shufflin’ to do.

Hey! You’re that guy that was at the bar the other night. I thought I recognized you! Did you shave? Anyway, here’s a free lesson on how NOT to be what you are, you horse’s A.
1) Don’t complain about the drink prices. Yes, I am totally aware, you can buy beer for less at the grocery store, and yes, I know (and don’t care that) you’re a “local,” but I didn’t make you come out to the bar. And the last time I checked, this isn’t a bank. Did you come here to save money or to get drunk? That’s right. The only good thing money ever did for you was buy beer, so zip the lip and cough it up scumbag.
2) Don’t ask for an extra cold beer. I don’t have a secret vault behind the bar where I keep the coldest beer saved for whining sissies like you (those beers are for me – ha ha). There’s one cooler, and all the beers are in it – same temp. Oh, do you want me to get you the coldest ice cubes for your cocktail? Or the freshest pack of cigarettes? How about the Frenchest French Fries? What I can give you is my longest finger.
3) When everyone at the bar is watching the playoffs or Family Guy or whatever, don’t get all huffy puffy because I won’t change it to Dog Whisperer reruns just for you. If you want to watch what you want, stay home. And don’t give me that “the customer is always right” balogna. First off, I think that sh*t’s hilarious. Save that bull for Applebee’s. The customer is always right when they agree with me. Hell, if you were in charge we’d been watching Antiques Roadshow, listening to The Jonas Brothers, and drinking lukewarm beer you bought at the gas station (that was probably still too expensive), and there’d be just as many chicks here as there are at your house, which I’m guessing is somewhere between 0 and 0.4. Sorry, I forget how much blow-up dolls count for.

I’ll give a free Phillie to the first person that can come into the store and actually name one of the “Dutch masters.” And no, “Corona Grape” does not count.

Look what I found at Home Depot the other day! And I thought buying something to fix the shower rod in room 101 was going to be boring! I was waaaay off. I’m not even sure what steel nipples are for – except Fembots. I don’t know where Dr. Evil gets the rest of the parts for his smoking hot killer robots (NOT Home Depot – I checked), but the nipples are surprisingly cheap. Cheaper than a whole new shower rod anyway. And way more fun to make puns about:
1) At such a low price these nipples were a – steal.
2) I need to warm up because my shower was a little – nippy.
3) Mine That Bird won the Kentucky Derby but couldn’t steal the – Nipple Crown.
4) My favorite movie is – Steel Magnipples. Riiiiight.

Allow me to share an email from a recent guest, if I may:
Billy and the Staff,
I just want to thank you for the awesome time that I had staying at Casa Verde! The place was clean, service was excellent, and any problem was addressed immediately. I could not have asked for a better place to stay. You guys were awesome and I just thought you should know it. I will definitely recommend your place and I will be back. You made my first time to Puerto Rico a great time. I miss sitting out on my chair outside the room and listening to the ocean. I think I spent a lot of my four days on that chair, but I would not trade it for anything! I am back in 33 degree weather at night, so be thankful that you are in paradise.
Thanks again!
Mrs. ___________ (named protected for the sake of mysteriousness)
Well, THANK YOU Mrs. ________! Word up. Now it’s time for the awesome song!
If you’re awesome and you know it clap your hands!!! If you’re awesome and you know it clap your hands!!! If you’re awesome and you know it then your blog will surely show it! If you’re awesome and you know it chug a beer!
Go us!!!

Rincon’s most famous bartender, our very own MIKE is putting together his application video for MTV’s Real World Rincon due to air next spring. What follows is a transcription of part of his interview with MTV casting director Hugh Jorgan…
HJ: Why should MTV choose you for Real World Rincon?
Mike: Cuz I’m sicker than most.
HJ: Do you think you could ad some juicy drama to this next season of The Real World? If so, how?
Mike: Yeah because I’m sicker than most. All the girls will be fighting to get in my boardies, so I won’t really have to do much – just let them fight over “the main ingredient.” Forget those other mongoloids.
HJ: Do you have any dark secrets from your past or family issues that might make for good drama?
Mike: Yeah. When I was born the doctor almost scared my mom to death because he told her I was “sicker than most.” Next time I saw the doctor I kicked his ass. Then, before I even left the nursery I knocked up the two hottest nurses there. I guess that doctor was right. I am sicker than most.
HJ: Do you have a recognizable catch phrase?
Mike: No.

This is why Mike isn’t allowed to use the bathroom at my house.

Billy finally got his AARP card – in duplicate!!! They spell AARP different in Spanish, but whatever. What does AARP or ARPE even stand for? No one really knows. Association for Recycled Prosthetic Elbows? Always Arranging Ripe Pineapples? Maybe. Much the same as a diploma or degree, nothing really changes when you get one. When asked, Billy said he felt no physical or emotional change – so we decided to get drunk.

Last week I was given the biggest insult ever by this cougar we’ll call Foo Lashit. It all started when this self-professed puma came into the bar, drank a bottle of “cougar juice” a.k.a. pinot grigio, and then told me she wanted to bring some of her cougar friends down to Rincon to meet me because, “they’re all hot and love younger men.” So I told her to show me these friends in her cougar catalog (Facebook) and maybe we could work out a male-order selection. After perusing the inventory, she hesitated, worried that she didn’t know my type of woman/cougar. She answered her own question by stating that it hardly mattered what type because “they’d be in and out of town real quick,” to which I said, “In and out? Perfect. That’s what I had in mind too!”
THEN, she hit me with it… She said, “Oh, you know what? You’re almost too old to be cougar bait.” Too old for cougar bait?! Are you kidding me?! Hey Ms. Lashit, you know what else they call almost-too-old?
Ripe-for-the-picking.
USDA Prime.
And cougars love meat, so spare us the up-turned nose, and enjoy being on the opposite side of the male/female double standard for once because you know what they call male cougars? Hugh Hefner. And there’s only one of those. The rest are called pervert sugar daddies.
So, cougars, we still love you, but be careful what you say because we pieces of meat have feelings too. But not many.

Yes we do! We heart cougars! How ’bout you?!
That’s right. Cougars. If you thought there weren’t any cougars in Puerto Rico, you’re a frickin’ idiot. You want to know who else is an idiot? I’ll tell you. This cougar “expert” I found on the internet who was doing all this research on “young cougars.” The only thing his research has found is my new least favorite oxymoron. Thanks, doofus! Here, we call them “future cougars of America.” That’s much more acceptable nomenclature because no girl is or plans on becoming a cougar. Then one day they show up at Rock Bottom looking for prey. And we love it.

But I hardly know her! Anyway, new items at the Casa Verde Mini-Mart: Vortex footballs, Aerobie frisbees, handcuffs, Spongebob band-aids, bean dip, Easy Cheez, Bubble Tape, and flashlights.
In more depressing news, the prosthetic mustache kits flew off the shelves, and we have no news on a restock anytime soon. That might be a good thing though because this dude in the picture would make your fake mustache look totally ridiculous.

Easy tiger! Don’t try to smoke your computer screen right now! Our store has not had Phillies for over a week. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! It’s a sure sign of the apocalypse! Ruuuun! When will we stock them again? Nobody knows.
In a totally unrelated coincidence (I’m sure), a lot a people around town seem more intelligent and are eating from food groups outside of our candy shelf. Weird.

I’m still trying to figure this one out. The other day I was in our store before business hours gathering supplies for another job. As I was walking out the door with my arms full, almost running late, a passerby tried to enter. All the lights were off, and I explained that we don’t open the store until 9 a.m. The person nodded in what seemed to be understanding but still tried to squeeze past me to enter. I re-explained the situation in greater, superfluous detail. The person looked at me like I just insulted his/her mother.
“We aren’t open until 9:00. I’m sorry.”
“So there’s no one in there right now?”
“No. The store doesn’t open until 9:00.” This was taken as an insult apparently. Then, I was given a most illogical and confusing plea.
“So I can’t go in there? I don’t even want to buy anything!”

wE r so shucking fit faced rite now. whaT? ooh, u have 1 too? tHeSe coroNas mak u loook so prittee! eye luckin’ fuv err-one so much.

For anyone that wasn’t here last week it was kind of a combination of these two videos but way louder, with better music, super loud sing-alongs, and way more hot chicks. If Jager bombs were actual artillery, Rock Bottom is the still-smoldering ground zero.

Be careful, the second video link has some grown up words in it, so be care-… what the hell am I saying? If you are old enough to drink Jager bombs, you’re old enough to hear some F-bombs.

Yup, you missed it. And we’ve been rockin’ so hard since then I haven’t had a spare second to write about the fantastic hardness of our rockin’.
The H8RZ (“haters” for all you non-hooked-on-phonics folks) Ball was so full of hate it almost felt like love. You know, the kind of love that comes with chugging stiff vodka punch a.k.a. hater-ade all night. Pictured above are our professional haters. Wait, what’s that in your hand Leif? AH HAH!!! Caught you red handed – AGAIN! Don’t worry, we’ll add it to your tab.
The bar was decorated with oversized candy hearts with such loving, I mean, hating phrases as, “Is it in yet?” “U R pretty in the dark,” and “Sure I’ll call you” written on them. The H8RZ Wall was also a big hit. It allowed jilted lovers to express their hate for all those stupid exes. The Professional H8RZ actually showed some love on the H8RZ Wall for DooDoo. Awww, isn’t that sweet? Don’t worry fellas – no haircut anytime soon. If I do, I’ll save you a few locks.