Imagine the dirtiest, low-life bar you've...

Imagine the dirtiest, low-life bar you've ever been in. Now add a film of scum and a petra dish bathroom and you have Sasnak, which is Kansas spelled backwards but somehow makes you think of the word skank.

If your taste runs to tats, saggy breasts and bellies, dirty barefoot dancers, this is your place. If the place served hard liquor, one could imagine Charles Bukowski hunkered down at the bar, growling toward an argument with one of the biker, proletariat or down-and-out regulars.

What weakness in me brings me to such dives? Well, usually it's time to kill -- and you can do that here cheap -- and the handful of attractive dancers I've seen there in the past who transcend the sordid surroundings and the high-mileage dances they offered.

The stripping action is in the back end of the club with the front given to the endless pool games in the front.

Consider this more a warning than a review. Buy the small, 75-cent draw. Eight our of ten times, you'll be out the backdoor before finishing the beer.