Address: 4841 Tchoupitoulas St.

Each night, this longtime favorite of khaki-clad power tools explodes into a cataclysmic black hole of douchebaggery. The level of alcohol consumption, coupled with a fire code smashing amount of douchebags who have yet to learn how to hold their liquor, make this one of the douchiest bars on the planet. The show outside is almost as mind-boggling as the shit show inside. Think multiple cop cars waiting to nab anyone behind the wheel within a six-block radius, bros high-fiving and wrestling while their girlfriends puke on their shoes, and couples off of their asses on Coors Light and flavored vodkas arguing violently. Oh, and groping random women is apparently not only allowed, but seems to be encouraged. Good times indeed.