"A male-oriented restaurant where the servers' bodacious, natural cleavage is never on the menu--but always in voluminous supply. Daisy Dukes in various forms... function to round out the servers' assets.
Breastaurants are in a class by themselves. They are certainly above the mainstream in terms of atmosphere, but will never be considered fine dining by pretentious elitists who value "ambiance" (pronounced OM-bee-ahnse) over ample portions of, well... everything.
Breastaurant atmosphere is both fun and titillating. It gives new meaning to the phrase: "Let's head to the mountains!" Likewise, the food is a carnivore's delight."
I'll admit to you that I don't know what is better: that they used "titillating" in that final paragraph, or the actual act of pronouncing the word "breastaurant." +19 In either case, it's the joy I find in saying those 3 syllables (and the desire to type it) that lead me to the Brick House last Thursday night.
I'd like to start out by saying that if you, like me, are only familiar with breastaurants from classics such as Hooters and Twin Peaks, prepare to find yourself a little disappointed when you walk through the front door of Brick House. Obviously there are deep vs in the shirts of all the waitresses (I think in this case it's acceptable to skip the politically correct term "servers"), but ladies and gents, the sad truth is that they were all wearing pants. That's right. I guess it's not called a buttaurant, that's true, but if I'm going to ogle I want to ogle. Plus let's face it, we've got boob guys and we've got butt guys. If you just appeal to the boob guys, you're cutting out at least half your potential audience. And what about leg guys? I'm just saying, this is a bad business decision. -12
The salt and pepper shakers on the tables of Brick House are way huge. They have, like, 300% the amount of salt and pepper that a normal salt and pepper shaker have. I'll admit to you now, I'm only mentioning this as a set up for this boob related joke: More than a handful's wasted. +231
But enough talk about boobies. I think I love Brick House. For one thing, they are fully committed to their gimmick. If there is anything I believe in, it is fully committing to my gimmicks. Brick House is a Man Restaurant. They have hot little girls for men to look at. They have big screen TVs for men to watch. They have dozens of beers for men to drink. And here’s my favorite part. They have couches that you can sit on and drink on and watch TV on! You can just sit on a couch, in a restaurant, and do all the things that you would do at home except OTHER PEOPLE are doing all the hard work! +29 As you know if I were in charge of the world I’d just hang out on my bed all the time and have other people do all the hard work. That’s what I want the next restaurant concept to be. They’ll just have these huge beds and topless guys will come round and bring you milk and cookies and they’ll have big screen TVs that you can watch Clueless and Saved all night long. And let me tell you those boys aren’t going to be going halfway, they’re going to be wearing shorts, you can bet on that. I’m going to call it PMS – Perfectly Marvelous Stuff.
OK well that’s everything you have to know about Brick House. Except the last thing is that on their drink menu, they don’t have a Bloody Mary, they have this disgusting sounding thing that is a Bloody Mary mixed with a beer. A beer. In a Bloody Mary. I think there are some serious questions that need to be raised about this and you can bet your rear end that we won’t be serving those at PMS – interested investors can contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org.