posted on September 30, 2013 12:21
First off, I think that the St. Louis Cardinals will win their 12th World Series, the Rams will win the Super Bowl and the Blues will win the Stanley Cup this season.
There – did that rope you in? That’s top page billing shit right there.
Now that I’ve got all of Nicksy’s readers, allow me to continue.
Each year, local publications put out these “best of” lists, proclaiming to give you a rundown of the best spots for various things all around our great…well, let’s be honest – mediocre – city.
The problem is that these lists are driven by sponsorship dollars or influence in some manner or the other.
I’ve decided to strip all of that down and give you a bit of “the rest” of St. Louis. My list has ZERO research or influence, is based on no poll and is my own personal recommendations.
The fact that the rest of you do not live life exactly in the manner that I do is not my fucking problem, and I’m sad for you all.
Tucker’s wins this shit and it’s not even a contest. The only thing that comes close to even sniffing second place can be ordered at any “Five Guys” franchise and will cost you roughly what one of these sorry-ass Mc-burger flippers think they should be paid per hour at your local drive-thru.
Here’s a big surprise – despite what’s been drilled into your appeasing head by the masses or forced upon every out of town relative and wedding party member who’d rather be drinking beer in the limo than standing outside in the heat of June licking a fucking cone, not only can you find a better cold dessert boxed in the frozen section of your local Shop’N’Save, but Ginny’s Kitchen & Custards down in Barnhart, Missouri wipes Theodore Drewes’ crusty old ass in this category.
It may sound like driving to Bora Bora for a lot of you, but in the time you can spend waiting in line at the other establishment, you’ll be down I-55 and eating cold fucking deliciousness in Jefferson County.
Best Local Band
Sure, I’m shamelessly partial because the bass player is a great guy and an old classmate of mine, but let me tell you something about listening to a band at a bar. I realize that you’re more talented than I can be in my biggest shower-singing dreams, but the last thing that I want to hear when hanging out with bro’s over brews is your latest original song.
Give us the shit we finger-fucked our coworkers to in Ma’s Beretta in the 80’s and the best sing-alongs that a tone-deaf group of drunkards can yell to and save your acoustic bullshit for the coffee house and those hipster douchebags who pump you up just because they think it makes them cool to listen to shit that nobody else has heard of.
Best Italian Cuisine
My JeffCo roots again shine through, but you can take The Hill and shove it up your Guido ass for this one.
A local gem that bookends a little strip mall with a shithole dive bar off of old Highway-21 and new Highway-M called Trattoria Giuseppe is where you want to go for Italian fare.
Frankie G can take all of his “quantity over quality” restaurants and keep making a dollar off the back of lard asses with no sense of taste, but the rest of you can take my advice and visit this little oasis and jerk me off later for the recommendation.
Best Children’s Fun
Six Flags and The Magic House can take their ill-behaved, line-jumping little imps and keep milking their non-manner teaching, fuck-ass parents for every dime leftover from cigarettes and phones that they’re willing to part from after the government check comes in.
I’ll take The City Museum in a land-fucking-slide.
It is THE ONE place that I spend money on my children where I don’t feel in the slightest bit ripped off.
Sure, the entire place smells like foot fungus and people have likely snuck off and fucked in some of those nooks during the bar hours, but I still feel like a 12-year old crawling through that shit for $15 with my kids.
They’ve finally gotten over the embarrassment of me wearing knee pads and love the fact that their Dad will get in there with them as opposed to sitting in the café stuffing his face while hoping some creep-oid isn’t “accidentally” bumping into their kid’s bodies while they’re not around.
Yes, I overprotect…let’s move on.
Best Business Lunch
DB’s Sports Bar on the river side of Soulard is the place to seal the deal.
It doesn’t scream with the desperation of taking a new business contact straight to the titty-bar for lunch and acting like it’s for the food, but does relax the tone and allow you to enjoy what men enjoy amongst various other industry professionals while also enjoying really good food served by a hot broad in her panties.
What Johnny’s and Carson’s began, DB’s has elevated. While one has sadly dropped off with the loss of its’ cherished owner, the other refuses to quit putting the same women he hired when he originally opened in their lingerie and making us walk out feeling like we just walked in the unlocked door of our Aunt or older cousin.
Not DB’s – young, hot and engaging. I know that they don’t find me even remotely attractive and that my blatant flirting is equally as flattering as it is effective, but they sure as hell smile and make me feel otherwise, while also feeding me a $7.50 chef salad that’s the best in the city.
Forest Park is beautiful…if it wasn’t for the shitload of people, parking suck-ass-edness and dirty fuckers now using the fountains as swimming pools and bathtubs and your likeliness to be robbed after dark or worse if jogging “the rape trail”.
To fish, jog, hike, plant/insect watch, take your kids to a playground or, in turn, observe hot MILFs do the same, all while parking somewhere that you don’t wish you could take a cab back to when you’re done or worry about being ass-fucked by gunpoint while you fumble with your keys, drive on over to Bee Tree Park in South County off of Telegraph Road.
It’s well-maintained, not ridiculously crowded – at least until this runs – and is far enough from the shitty parts of our illustrious city to discourage the ne’er-do-wells from coming down.
The only downfall are the jackasses that decide to get married there and then want to hush you for having a normal Saturday out with your family.
Fuck them and I hope that they like David Allan Coe in the backdrop of their special day.
I could go on and on with this shit and inform you all of where you should be going and what to spend your hard earned dollars on, but you’re likely not listening anyway and, unless I’m literally repeating the EXACT fucking column every day, this likely will be buried in the bottom of the site.
Listen to me, check this stuff out and skip that manipulated “best of” shit you’re reading elsewhere.
Crown Candy sucks…KMFP-out!
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