Barhopper

Jeremy Berg and friends hit the taverns.
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Month of the Locust

by Editor

And the summer shall start with a festival, a festival on Locust Street. And you shall drink in the bars of Locust Street. And the sky shall turn yellow, and the sun shall turn blue. And you shall say: “Hey — who dosed my Leinie’s?” –Book of Revelations, Milwaukee ed.

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Drowning My Sorrows

by Editor

Yeah, I know, we here at Barhopper are a public service to the good folks in Riverwest. But I’m afraid I have to use my awesome power (that would be my ATM card) to serve my own ends this month. What can I say, it was still winter in spring, I couldn’t get Pixies tickets in Chicago, and as of this writing the new Patti Smith album isn’t out yet to cheer me up. I don’t know about you, but I need a drink…

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Back In Black

by Editor

After last month’s East Side sojourn, it’s time for a return to the taverns of Riverwest. So I’m back. And it was night. So, black. Yeah. That works.

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St. Patrick’s Day

by Editor

Ah, the feast of St. Patrick, which we remember every year with free bus rides from Miller and green variants of their product. In the spirit of the holiday, the Barhopper has decided that March shall be a month for Irish bars. Unfortunately, they were nowhere to be found in Riverwest, so we had to venture a bit further afield. Hey, it could be worse. I could’ve gone to Ireland. Wait, no I couldn’t’ve; I spent all my money on beer. (Reviewed this month: Hooligan’s & County Clare.)