The Slow, Inexorable Demise of the Gay Bar (And Not a Moment Too Soon)


by James Killough

I’ve done something highly unusual for me the past two weekends: I’ve been gaybarhopping twice with friends.  What makes it extremely the more unusual is I’ve been stone-cold sober; I’m currently in one of my Puritan phases.  Most guys need to drink heavily when they’re in a gay bar, which is why liquor companies love us so much.  We singlehandedly built the Absolut brand without help from an Ikea instruction manual.  We own the Country of Sweden’s economy.  Says so right on the bottle.

The super awesome Johnny Knoxville screening "Jackass 3D" at The Eagle in LA just to show how grateful he is that we Gheys appreciate how willfully homo-erotic the Jackass franchise is.

The reason one tends to get hammered in a gay environment is that this is no ordinary social gathering.  You are shopping and being shopped for: the desire for sex is the mixer in your drink; the potential for sex could be standing next to you at the urinal.  So you need to relax, and that’s what booze is for, as well as a few Vicodin, and maybe a bump of… etcetera.