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| - As with all good Las Vegas bars you should never be judged by your 8pm to 2pm hours...no...you need to know where the real drunks go. The hopeless helpless bastards that stare longingly into drink and remember the better days, the happier times, the girl in Bangcock who did something to their anus they never thought they would like...and now they can't find anyone to do again. So, a few weeks ago while back out west on...um...well...let's call it business...I was in the bar at 4:30am and stated until about noon. The perfect time to be in a great bar. With Mcmullan's it was more of the same...some great...some not so great. Great...the overnight bartenders are way better than the prissy little punks who work during the day...one in particular who worries more about his hair than anything else. Great...the food is excellent for a pub at any time of day or night, and quite frankly...it was better at 5am. Of course I was coming down off of paint fumes, gas fumes, turpentine and a pill someone told me would turn me into a donkey, but all i kept seeing was Buddy Epson everywhere. Strange. Great...amazing soccer matches were on and the fans seemed really fanatical to be there at 5am watching their teams. The bad...the music is horrible beyond horrible. It is a tape, I guess, and it is all bad from start to finish. The Irish are known for bad music...Bono, Riverdancers, Charlotte Church, etc... but this is America...we love good bar music! The bad...they kept fiddling with the lights. We wanted it dark, the bartender wanted it brighter...she won. Well, when she pays for the drinks and the food she can have it anyway she wants. Until then...we pay, she does. Period. The place is still uneven and far from its former glory...but they make money and people are always there...so I guess they figure adequate and decent are good enough...mores the pity.
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