Whole Foods in Potrero Hill is at it again. Remember that Beer Week event with the cheap microbrew and the food tastings?  Well they’re doing something similar tonight from 5-7pm. $5 gets you Australian wines paired with meats and cheeses plus you’re actually doing a mitzvah because the money is

Five people were in the bar when Paul and I walked in around midnight. One of them was a bartender in her late 50s/early 60s who was missing a few teeth, while the other four were shitfaced, chubby, middle aged and dancing to disco music emanating from the jukebox. Neither

Oh the otter.  What mass appeal you possess, whether you be ‘œblue raspberry’ flavoured, an oblivious critter prying open an abalone while floating in front of cooing tourists, or a skinny hairy dude.  Of the latter, San Francisco is practically overflowing, but if you simply can’t have enough, then the

Have you ever walked up to the door of the building in which you work and someone says: ‘œCan I help you?’ But not ‘œCan I help you?’ in a nice, helpful kind of way, but ‘œCan I help you?’ in a way like you are somewhere where you are

If you’re not familiar with it, Taylor’s Automatic Refresher in the Ferry Building is kind of like a gourmet In-N-Out Burger (wait, In-N-Out isn’t gourmet?) It’s delicious, I’m sure, but due to that fancy location the menu tends to be out of the Broke-Ass price range. Well, this Thursday the

Irrational fears are a difficult subject to talk about with endearment, but somehow St. Mannequins managed to write a beautiful acoustic diddy about getting sucked into space and being eaten by sharks. Tomorrow night, you can see them and Dale Earnhardt Jr. Jr., another band that plays mellow rock, play

So you like street food with your dirty house music?  Lucky for you every fourth Thursday of the month, The Lookout hosts Dirty Dishes, a night devoted to “hot beats, tasty eats and cool peeps.”  While I definitely appreciate some good “indie electro/future bass” DJ action once in a while, and

After brunch one day last spring, I took a sunny stroll along Amsterdam Ave. on the Upper West Side. A brightly colored shop immediately caught my eye; the window was filled with hand-painted pottery and a sandwich-board-sign promise that I, too, could create a work of art. I stepped in,