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| - How does one explain Hogs and Heifers? Should ever you find yourself in DLV (that's Downtown Las Vegas) with nothing to do and looking for some entertainment beyond Fremont, this could be the place for you:
Hogs parked outside? Check.
Bride to be sitting outside adorned in a cliche bachelorette party sash, vomiting on herself while the bouncers hand her frustrated friends paper towels? Check.
Dirty, dark and dank? A la everything you want in a dive bar? Check.
Foul-mouthed, bra-wearing, belly-baring bartenders? Check.
Cigarette smoke so thick you could cut it with a knife and you're guaranteed to wake up with numb nostrils, a raw throat and sounding like Silvia Sidney in Beetlejuice? Check.
Music blasted so high you can't hear yourself or anyone else? Check.
It's loud. It's rowdy. And if you don't know how to loosen up and just have a good time, don't go. The (all female) bartenders grab their megaphones shouting things that might embarrass a sailor or two I know then hop right up on that bar, tossing on belly dancing skirts and getting to it. One of them could definitely shake her hips. That's some talent right there, folks.
All in all, entertaining for a handful of minutes. Just feels like they're trying a little too hard and where I come from, you buy the bartender a shot because they're effin' awesome, not because they're shouting through a megaphone for you to buy it for them and then tip them for it after.
Entrust the name for what to expect.
Tip: Hit the ATM before you go. They're a cash-only operation.
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