It took us a good long while to find the official name for this tiny and totally unmarked tavern, and finding the actual street number address and phone number for it took an extra bike ride up Falls Road--the only affiliation the Clipper Mill Inn has with the internet is via its jukebox (yeah, one of those). The bartender at Flips, the clean, cozy bar next door, ID'd its neighbor as the "Bloody Bucket," with no further explanation, and, for the sake of future visits, maybe we're better off not knowing. And, yeah, there probably will be future visits, if only for the spectacularly cheap and well-stocked carry-out selection (half-pints are in the $3 range). And if we were ever in the mood for sour apple schnapps or were at the edge of a diabetic coma, we might hit up Wednesday nights, where a shot of the stuff goes for a buck. The regulars--and they are all regulars--are friendly enough and speak in "we" secret cult terms, but we weren't about to slap quarters down on the pool table as outsiders. Décor? Um, well, there are drop ceilings and it's brightly lit with fluorescents, but, as you might have figured, you don't come to the "Bloody Bucket" to admire the art. A friend of City Paper claims to enjoy the chicken salad sandwich here, which you can take as a tacit endorsement of the cleanliness of the bar. (But please don't hold us to that.) They also do karaoke on Saturday nights, but we're also guessing a weekend late night around here isn't for the faint of heart.