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If you’ve ever been to Brisbane and wondered to yourself ‘where the fuck are all the pubs?’ – don’t worry, you aren’t imagining things.

The entire concept of a ‘local watering hole’ was almost demolished in the late 1980s, after the State Government brought in laws that only gave bottle shop licenses to existing licensed venues. Overnight, the Woolworths and Coles duopoly bought every sleepy corner pub in the city and flipped them into alcohol grocery stores like BWS and The Thirsty Camel.

Some of these pub-killers even relocated their new bottle shops down the street and sold the old hotels to florists and property developers.

The short supply of hotel licenses in Queensland meant that no more pubs could be built to replace the now sterile shopfronts at the end of your street.

This poorly thought-out and highly bureaucratic legislation turned Brisbane into a cultural wasteland, razing the city of all it’s life music venues and cheap feeds.

The only venues left standing were the monstrous suburban taverns, whose brave owners held on long enough to see the day where pokie machines would be legalised in Queensland – and they would become instant millionaires.

While successive governments have done their best to help Brissy get her groove back with lame small bars – and mandatory ID scanning machines – the city has never really recovered from the corporate greed that killed the local.

To make things worse, a growing trend of ‘drinking heaps of piss at home’ looks like it might snuff out the entire industry once and for all.

Brisbane’s remaining pub owners say they are growing concerned with the amount of suburban dads who are raising their stilted Queenslander houses and building home bars underneath.

“This isn’t good for the old publican. Not good at all” said one Brisbane hospitality operator, Poe Key-Baron.

“First, they ban us from serving more than 6 standard drinks to patrons with their Gestapo licensing rules. And now the punters have found a better option”

Right around the city, thousands of Brisbane dads are getting the old timber houses lifted and building the ultimate man caves. Complete with pool tables, kegs and State Of Origin memorabilia.

“Our kegs are so taxed that it costs them nearly 10 bucks a schooner. Why the fuck would they come here?” says another publican, Noah Smoken-Ploise.

“Especially given the fact that they have to drive home. There’s no pubs in walking distance to anyone”

“May as well get the shack lifted and build your own pub. It’ll cost ya less and you can punch darts indoors”

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