"Honey, I'm Off to the Pub. Yell if You Need Me."

What do you get the lush who thinks he has everything? How about his very own bar?

The folks at clothing retailer home-improvement center Neiman Marcus are advertising what is sure to be the hottest holiday gift since Tickle Me Elmo: an Authentic Guinness Home Pub, also sometimes known by its alternate names: the Most-Popular-Guy-in-the-Neighborhood Room; the Where-Did-My-Husband-Go? Black Hole; the Jobkiller; the Brawling Grounds; and of course, the Where's-All-This-Black-Vomit-Coming-From? Chamber.

Imagine – it's a rainy Sunday morning and you're wide awake, stuck with nothing to do during that unfortunate time between sunrise and NFL kickoff. Worse, your favorite watering holes have all yet to open! Well, how about heading downstairs (heck, have it installed in your bedroom) to your own personal Irish pub for some liquid breakfast?

"Pull me some of that black stuff, Seamus," you say. But wait – there is nary a mutton-chopped, rosy-cheeked barman to be found. Oops! Lost in the moment, you forgot that at (Insert Your Name Here)'s Pub, you are the bartender! And the customer, and the owner, and the creepy drunk who mutters to himself at the bar and leers inappropriately at your wife. Anything goes, and "last call" is unheard of.

It gets better. To become properly oriented as an official Guinness bar owner, you and a friend will be shuttled to Dublin for a VIP tour (and, we can presume, overindulgent tasting binge) at the St. James's Gate Brewery, home of Guinness for nearly 250 years. But save some of that thirst, because waiting for you at home will be your own supply of fresh Guinness Stout. One year's worth.

If you think this little slice of personal heaven on earth doesn't come cheaply ... you're right. The price tag? Try a quarter million. Powerball tickets, anyone?