BAR NONE

Ok, here it is, my top 10 favorite bars of all time. Some are gone, some I haven't been to in years, but all were important in my development as a lush, drunk, weekend alcoholic - whatever you pick. Some also played a huge part in my life. So without further ado, here wer go:

10. Sharky's - Venice, Florida
A great outdoor bar on the water gives you a perfect spot to watch the sunset, but its best feature is the frozen drinks. You see, they have a sign up that says you will be cut off after just two frozen drinks because they are so strong. And let me tell you, they are. How much do I love this place? While honeymooning with Mrs. Pendleton, we drove about 2 hours from Clearwater Beach, Fla. to this place just to get there again. Someone told me a few months ago it was closed down, but website says otherwise. If you are ever in the area, go there. Mrs. Pendleton says they have the best ribs ever.

9. Goal Post, Scotch Plains, New Jersey
This is perhaps the most important bar in my life as it's where I met Mrs. Pendleton. It was also one of the first sports bars ever. Before meeting Mrs. P there, I would enjoy the Tuesday night bikini contents. My other famous story from that place is a night my friend The Knocker and I went there. That afternoon we had gotten wrist bands for the Rolling Stones show at Shea Stadium in 1989, with tickets going on sale the next day. Well that night, we went to the GP, with the Knocker driving and me drinking. Well, as we are getting ready to leave, the Knocker meets some dame who is not only totally into him, she also needs a ride home. So within seconds, I went from being the drunk to the driver. So while I'm navigating my way back to Metuchen New Jersey, he's in the backseat of his car, letting his fingers do the walking on the broad. I mean, from my view through the rearview mirror, his entire hand was up her skirt and maybe even further. So not only am I worrying about getting pulled over, I'm also worried about him losing the wristband up there. Well, we made it home OK and got tickets to the show.

8. Leggetts, Manasquan, New Jersey:
Had this list been compiled in 1989, this may have been No. 1 for a few reasons. First, there's nothing like strolling off the beach and walking into a nice air-conditioned joint for a cold taste. Also, for some reason back then, it didn't really attract the usual a-holes you find down the shore, but did attract beautiful babies.

But the No. 1 reason it's on the list is because this joint helped me make the most important decision of my life. In the summer of 1989, my brother and his buddies had a beach house for 4th of July week in Manasquan. Well, I was invited, along with the dame I was seriously dating in college for about three years. How serious? For her college graduation, I gave her a claddagh ring, which was interpreted as a pre-engagment ring. Well, anyway, as the trip to Manasquan neared - a trip I wouldn't be able to pull off without bringing her along - it really hit me that I would have much more fun at Leggetts and Manasquan without her. And it hit me, that I shouldn't be feeling that way about someone who I may be spending the rest of my life with. So, on about July 1, 1989, I pulled the plug on the relationship, and along with Knocker, headed to Manasquan for 2 days of non-stop drinking and dame chasing. Thanks Leggetts for making me see the light.

7. Knight Club, New Brunswick, NJ: Long before Greg Schiano turned RU into a football school, this dive was the best thing the Hub City had to offer. In the summer of 1989 it was my home office on Tuesday nights. The reason? $2 pitchers. My and the aformentioned Knocker would head there, drink a bunch, talk to dames also enjoying the $2 pitchers, do some dancing and after sobering up at Campus Pizza, drive back to our respective Middlesex County towns. I knew it was time to stop going there when one night I met some dame, got her phone number and was getting set to call her. However, since i couldn't really remember what she looked like, I called the Knocker first to see if I should and he politely told me to lose the phone number as fast as I could.

6. Dalina's, Fords, NJ: This was the hangout for me and my cronies at my first real newspaper gig. A perfect mix of dive bar and great bar. It wasn't a place to pick up dames, rather it was just a good drinking bar. It's also the place where I watched Stephane Mattieu score the biggest goal in NY Rangers history (sorry, LS) and it's was holding karyoke nights before there was karyoke. It's now turned into a family diner, but everytime I drive by it, I get a little sentimental. And, it was in this bar that Jim McGreevey gave me a free weiner. (he was the mayor of Woodbridge at the time and he was handing out free hot dogs during a Tommy Morrison fight.)

5. South River Pub, South River, New Jersey. In my young, impressionable years, this was, by far, my favorite bar. It had it all. Cheap drinks, cheap women, great tunes, and perhaps the best bar gimmick ever - 5 days before and after your birthday, all your drinks were a quarter. That promotion helped earn Mrs. Pendleton earn an engagment ring, as on my 26th birthday, she gave me a roll of quarters for a gift and shuttle service too and from the SR Pub, which resulted in me barfing in her parents' ice bucket that night. It was the place to go the night before Turkey Day. It was the place to go every Thursday night. The only downfall was its narrow walkways, so going to take a squirt could take hours.

4. Dresden Room, West Hollywood, Calif. Long before Swingers made this joint famous, this was one of my all-time favorites. It has that old school Hollywood feel, and of course, the world famous Marty & Elayne (right) as the entertainment (they were the couple singing Staying Alive in Swingers). I've only been there about 2-3 times, but everytime I go it's a blast. It's sort of the place to go before going out.

3. Shandygaff, State College, Pa. - Okay, localschill, as much as I like to bust your chops about Penn State football, this place is the only reason I make my annual pilgrimage to the middle of nowhere. Honestly. On a college football saturday you can watch about 20 games, drink tons of beer while John Cash's 'Ring of Fire" blasts over the speaker system. And then, when the sun goes down, it becomes sort of an 70's and 80's dance club (they bang out Dancin' Queen about 3 times a night). Of course, by then, you are dealing with most of the drunken a-hole PSU students, who start requesting hip-hop crap that the DJ plays, but usually by then, I'm ready to call it a night anyway. Still, if this place closes down, it's no more PSU football for me. Well, actually, I'll just find another joint.

2. The Sawmil, Seaside Park, NJ: How much did I love this bar? It has a day named after it. From 1992-1998, me, the Knocker and Gerry B would designate the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend "Sawmill Day." We would leave Central Jersey around 10 a.m. and make a bee-line for this little dive on the Seaside Heights boardwalk to kick off the summer in style. The reason we picked this place? It was the only bar we could find that served Mickey's Big Mouths. Every year, the bartender would dust off the green grenade bottles and get us going. The tradition ended in 1998, when after an entire day of celebrating the Mike Piazza trade, we had to find a way home. We made it, but pledged that the following year, we would have to find a place to stay. Well, the Professor provided that place, but it was about 35 miles North in Belmar, and a free place to stay won out over awful tasting Malt Liquor in green bottles. To me, this place no longer exists. Oh sure, it's still there. But what was once a little corner bar, has turned into a huge place with an adjoining dining room, and - get this - a kid's menu. Adios Sawmill. We had a blast.

By the way, speaking of Seaside, remeber the first annual FNC road trip is this Thursday, Aug. 2 at the Beachcomber for the Shorty Long & The Jersey Horns Show.

1. Hange Uppe, Chicago, Ill. As much as I love the previously mentioned 9 joints, this one is by far, head and shoulders above all of them. I sometimes wonder if the cats that own this joint tapped into my brain when they were creating it. Oldies music, friendly midwestern dames, endless supply of Old Style beer, and a closing time of about 5:30 a.m. A block off Chicago's overrated Rush & Division streets is the greatest bar in America. My dream scenario: It's 3 a.m., I have an ice-cold Old Style longneck in my hand, Carl Douglas' Kung Fu Fighting is playing and I'm leering at some college dames on the dance floor. I roll out of the joint about 5 bells. Get back to my hotel, get about 4 hours of sleep and head to Wrigley for a day in the bleachers. Or in the case of my last trip there, got in the car for the 3 hour drive to Lambeau for Jets-Pats. Anyway, if you are ever in Chicago hit this place on a Friday or Saturday night and they may have to drag you out of there.

Well there it is. Hope to see you all THursday night.