Without a doubt, the best damn day we’ve had in Miami this first quarter, the fresh booze and dirty shoes b-day bashio for local lifer Jimbo Luznar (peep the pic with Jack Nicholson, hah) was off the books. His is the type of spot that makes stingy journalists put away their pads for the sake of snitchin’ to bathe in the Virginia Key sun with a beer. Sights: a Bass truck on tap with complimentary brew (plus requisite 79th b-day donations), all the hot dogs, burgers and corn cobs you could scarf, makeshift and local bands jamming all sorts of sounds simultaneously, a Jack Russell Terrier and cats strutting around, gruff bikers chillin’, beer-swilling friendly ladies dancing with the man himself – and one po-po who dared not mess with the live-live-live-it-up good times. That’s all, we’re keeping it hush.

Mr. Luznar has a line of stickers, hats, shirts, a web site, but his clientele keeps it backwater exclusive.

All these dudes with LCD dubs in Miami, that shit is played.