Erin Go Bragh

It's St. Patrick's Day. You know what that means: Stay the fuck away from all the "Irish" bars in town. The asshole alert will be at RED.

I use quotation marks around Irish because there are a few watering holes here in Louisville that might as well bill themselves as "Canadian," "Hungarian" or "Japanese" for all their Irish authenticity. Around here, if you've got Guinness, Harp, Smithwick's and Bass on tap -- or any combination thereof -- you can call your establishment an "Irish pub."

Having said that, I do enjoy the Irish Rover and Molly Malone's, although Molly's lost serious cred points from me when they stopped carrying Woodpecker and replaced it with Hard Core last summer. For non-cider drinkers, that'd be replacing Harp with Killian's Irish Red -- it's close, but no cigar.

Anyway, the reason I like these two pubs? Because they've got authentic Irishmen (and Irishwomen) on staff. It's the little things.