Tuesday, June 25, 2013


Tell me what brand of whiskey that Grant drinks. I would like to send a barrel of it to my other generals. 

Sunday, June 23, 2013


Our neighbor.

Will deliver a steaming hot pie directly to your table or place at the bar.


Now serving Jameson Reserve, aged 18 years

1. Whiskey is low-carb and fat-free, so your thighs will thank you.

2. The word whiskey means “water of life.”

3. In frontier country, whiskey was as valuable as gold.

4. Whiskey can help prevent cancer.

5. Drinking whiskey can lower your risk of having a stroke.

 It also may reduce your risk of developing heart disease.

7. Drinking one to six glasses of whiskey a week can lower an adult’s risk of dementia.

1:07 A.M.

Photo by Phil

Sunday, June 16, 2013


Marty Beckerman's hilarious guide for the modern man to booze, battle, and bull-fight his way to becoming more like Hemingway

More than fifty years have passed since the death of Ernest Hemingway, history’s ultimate man, and young males today—obsessed with Facebook, Twitter, and Playstation—know nothing about his legendary brand of rugged, alcoholic masculinity. 

They cannot skin a fish, dominate a battlefield, or transform majestic creatures of the Southern Hemisphere into piano keyboards.

The Heming Way demonstrates how modern eunuchs—brainwashed by PETA and Alcoholics Anonymous—can learn from Papa's unparalleled example: drunken, unshaven, meat-devouring, wife-divorcing, and gloriously self-destructive.


Exercise your First Amendment rights.

Spout off, about anything and everything.

Heckling not only tolerated but encouraged.


Hangs at BoHenry's

“For art to exist, for any sort of aesthetic activity or perception to exist, a certain physiological precondition is indispensable: intoxication.”

“It is my ambition to say in ten sentences what others say in a whole book” 

– Friedrich Nietzsche

 Nietzsche in Ten Sentences

1. Nietzsche adored his father, who died when Friedrich was only five, compelling him to later write, “Black clouds billowed up, the lightning flashed and damaging thunderbolts fell from the heavens.”

2. Maybe, for Nietzsche, that is when God died; or maybe it was six months later when he looked out his bedroom window to see a white spirit rise from his father’s grave and enter the nearby church, organ music playing, then returning to the grave with something beneath its arm; for when Nietzsche awakened from this dream, his brother, Little Joseph, not quite two years old, suffered a stroke and died.

3. It was in Leipzig in 1866, while at university, that Nietzsche contracted syphilis after visiting a brothel.

4. Perhaps Nietzsche felt stronger for it, but anxiety, migraine headaches, nausea and poor eyesight compelled poor Fritz, at age thirty-five, to relinquish his chair as a classics professor at the University of Basle and seek a quieter, calmer place for the full-time writing of experimental philosophy.

5. Thus Nietzsche found Sils Maria, where walking, and the electromagnetic power of the Engadine valley, gave him solace and inspiration, supplemented by hashish oil, which contributed to his very deep thinking.

6. On June 3rd, 1889, while standing on the Piazza Carlo Alberto in Turin, Nietzsche suffered a nervous breakdown when he saw a man beating a horse; sobbing, he rushed to embrace and comfort the horse, placing both arms around the nag’s neck.

7. Nietzsche was led back to his room nearby, and when he awakened from a nap, Fritz believed he had succeeded God (who he’d already declared dead) as ruler of all mankind–-suggesting also that he could control the weather.

8. Nietzsche’s doctor, a close friend, was summoned and, upon arrival, arranged for Fritz to be smuggled out of Italy–-to Basle, Switzerland–-for fear the Italians would forcibly confine him.

9. Throughout the journey by train, Nietzsche sang, danced, shouted and asked that women be brought to him; Swiss doctors soon declared him insane.

10. The mediocrity of man, along with syphilis microbes mulching his brain, and hashish oil and chloral hydrate (which Nietzsche took for sleep), had driven the philosopher mad; and, faithless, since God for him had long since died, Nietzsche spent the last ten years of his life casually strolling a lunatic asylum, before transcending from the chaos of his life into a dancing star.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013


Pamieri’s Is Now BoHenry’s

Author Robert Eringer Takes and Makes Over San Andres Cocktail Lounge

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Name of bar: BoHenry’s Cocktail Lounge
Address: 1431 San Andres Street;bohenry.com
Days/Hours: Mon.-Thu., noon-1 a.m.; Fri.–Sat., noon-2 a.m.
Known for: Stiff drinks, neighborhood feel, good place to meet strangers
Regulars: Salt of the earth, working-class members of the Westside community in their 30s and 40s
Overheard: “This is the Westside bar. It’s got deep roots.”
Famous patrons: Still Jaime, simply a local treasure
Happy Hour deals: Bottled beers and well drinks weekdays, 4-6 p.m.
Memorable d├ęcor: Abstract and expressionistic-style oil paintings and a shelf of books, all written by the owner, Robert Eringer
Location: Nestled in the heart of the Westside, near some excellent Mexican joints
Fun Fact: They have a phone charger collection, so you’ll always be able to call for a ride!
Recommendation: Order their 120 proof absinthe cocktail with Malibu and pineapple juice and ask the manager, an extremely knowledgeable sous chef, to explain all the different flavors you’re tasting.
My experience: Palmieri’s was the first bar I visited when I moved to Santa Barbara. Coming back to town from a two-week hiatus, I swung by my favorite bar to find the posters stripped from the walls, the Barbie head long gone. I met the new owner, Robert Eringer, who wore a camel coat and shook my hand excitedly. They were about to clean!
I came back on a Thursday night in May quietly hoping that not much had changed. If I wanted to drink top shelf alcohol in some swanky lounge, I’d go downtown.
As I walked in the door, I was heartened. The warmth was still there, but it had a very different quality. Had refinement been bought at the price of charm and comfort?
At the same time, there was Jaime. All the old regulars were in attendance, and they seemed to be kicking back as always. Hip-hop thumped out of the juke, and the bouncer gesticulated wildly. (It seemed the drinks were just as stiff.) The long comfortable booth was gone, replaced with restaurant-style tables and chairs. The walls were covered with oil paintings of cityscapes and portraits of artists. My eyes tripped over the new bar swag: a BoHenry’s polo. I smiled to myself.
Mostly I wanted to know what people thought of the change. I prodded a bit, and people started sharing their opinions, first cautiously then more emphatically. There seemed to be a bit of dissonance between the atmosphere the new owner was trying to create and what the Westside bar was at its core. The makeover was designed to introduce some class to the neighborhood bar, perhaps in an effort to bring in some wealthier patrons or tap into the Downtown market.
But the patrons and workers at BoHenry’s are proud that the Westside bar is a neighborhood dive. But that doesn’t mean it’s some grungy hole in the wall. For them, a dive is all about authenticity. It’s a place where pretention gets no special attention and low rent is something to be proud of, where the true owners are the regulars.
So while an inconsistency may exist between the bar’s makeover and its essential character, does that even matter? The bartender put it perfectly: This bar isn’t about the atmosphere, or what kind of art is on the wall, or how many fifty dollar bottles of alcohol are on the shelf. It’s a gathering place. You could make this bar look and smell like anything, and all the old regulars and Westside locals would take it right back to where it was before.
Because the people who come to BoHenry’s don’t come for the atmosphere or for the art on the walls. They don’t choose it for the novelty. They go there because it’s their bar, the only bar on the Westside. It has deep roots, and it isn’t going anywhere, and it’s not going to change. At least not from the outside in.


1.  We no longer open at noon.  Saturday-Tuesday we open around 3:30 pm.  Wednesday-Friday we open around 2 pm to accommodate the needs of vendors and delivery drivers.

2.  We have extended our happy hour:  4-7 pm.

3. The "long comfortable booth" was grungy; nobody wanted to sit there; replaced not by "restaurant-style tables and chairs," but by poker tables and chairs, as befits a saloon.


1.  Not just Mexican joints nearby.  Next door, Paesano's serves the best pizza in town and delivers a steaming pie directly to your table in BoHenry's.

2.  Our makeover was intended to enhance the authenticity of a neighborhood saloon (which we celebrate), while improving decor, hygiene and air quality.  We cherish our regular customers, who have proven extremely courteous about welcoming others from beyond the neighborhood.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Tuesday, June 4, 2013


“I don't have a drinking problem 'Cept when I can't get a drink.”


We believe in flying the stars & stripes every day, not just holidays.

We believe in the United States of America, not a bank-controlled world.


Join us next Monday the 10th for another dose of laughter,
humanity's best medicine.

Saturday, June 1, 2013


Jason served our country in Afghanistan.

And now he is willing to serve our city.

Come meet Jason at BoHenry's and learn for yourself why this natural leader is the right person to help lead Santa Barbara into the future.