I went here once. I couldn't resist. Who could resist? My friends would ask what I was up to all evening and I could say, "Oh, I spent the evening hanging out in Monkey Pants."
I've never been there for shirtless shots, but I appreciate any place that's willing to serve breakfast and beer at the same time. In some ways, the decor says, "Like me! I'm trying too hard." but it grew on me. Or maybe that's the liquor talking. Our cocktailer was nice. She flashed a genuine smile. Not a dead shark eyes, Stepford wife smile. I tip extra for real smiles.
I looked up to the TV screen expecting to see a bunch of grown men dressed up in costumes running around like super heros while fat old guys dressed like zebras keep score on who looks less ridiculous. Which is what usually appears on such screens. It took me a few moments to remember how to focus my eyes and realize I was actually staring at an image of Leonard Nimoy from the sixties wearing a blue v-neck and pointy ears. Spock?
My god. I think I just creamed my monkey pants. I will definitely go there again.