Mikey Guru here with the alcohol infused tale of how I spent Saturday night. Dude thought that we needed to challenge ourselves this weekend and informed me that we were going bar-hopping on Main Street in HB.

I am always up for some self-improvement so I called up some friends (allegedly to participate, but mostly to make sure we actually made it home). I don't remember where we started, but according to the credit card receipts, 17 car bombs and 4 bars later we ended up at Hurricanes. This would be one of the best bars on the beach if it wasn't for the $7 cover. This is where the night got interesting. Dude and I took a couple of seats at the bar next to a couple of OC soccer moms and began taking shots of tequila, not the best choice on top of Guinness and whiskey. Next thing you know a couple of over-tanned, ultra-pumped goons (picture Italian Mark Maguires) came over to check out the ladies. I heard one of them ask the other if he thought that there was one real breast between them. Sasquatch #2 answered, "If I can touch them, then they're real." I start laughing so hard that I spill my drink, at which point we leave and head outside to the smoker's lounge. After watching me try to hug the bouncer and yell at a passing policeman, Dude announces that it's time to go home. He tells me to stay put while he finds our ride. Apparently, I decided he was taking too long and hailed a cab. I'm not sure how the cab driver interpreted my slurred version of my address, but I do know that he put me out of the car 16 blocks from my house. Long story short, Dude and company arrive to save the day and we all make it home by pass out time.

If you’re in the downtown area of Huntington Beach and you don't mind paying a cover, Hurricanes is a great place to watch the sometimes beautiful, often disturbing, but always entertaining battle of predator and prey, kind of like Wild Kingdom with booze and a soundtrack. I give it a 7 out of 10.