If you’re anywhere near as obsessed with old school Italian American culture/aesthetic as I am, I really can’t believe that you have not already gotten yourself to Bamonte’s in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.  The atmosphere is an unreal time capsule of 1950s Brooklyn (though it’s been there since 1900).  True story: I

In honor of NYC’s Gay Pride weekend and RuPaul’s DragRace, the most amazing televised game show ever, I submit, for your consideration RuPaul’s “Covergirl”, featuring someone named Rebecca Glasscock who I believe is a dragrace contestant. That pretty much says everything, I think. Work.

If you haven’t ridden any Bay Area public transit in a while (I know! It’s expensive these days, right?) you might have missed out on the billions of ads for the new one-card-to-rule-them-all transit pass system called Clipper. Apparently Clipper isn’t much more than a fancy focus-grouped version of Translink,

Ah yes…yet another kick ass pub crawl has come and gone.  I know it happened a few weeks ago, but I’m a busy motherfucker, so I just now got around to getting all this stuff organized. What can I say?  Despite how awesome it looks, it was even awesomer! We

Whether you’ve got some special personal items or you just have noisy-ass roommates, everyone likes to have a secret hiding spot. There’s something terribly delicious about having a secret anyhow, but a secret hiding spot? Well, that’s just aces. The Book Safe appeals to everyone from hard-core Nancy Drew fans

I’m always looking for different things to do on weeknights other than, say, go straight home after work, have a glass of wine (or a bottle, depending on how much of a penis wrinkle my boss was being that day), order Big Lantern and fall asleep to reruns of The

On Saturday, I biked from Williamsburg to the Intrepid, and I had to run through a nearby fountain as soon as I got to the boat so I could stop feeling like my skin was on fire. Even if you’re not doing cardio exercises outside, New York is approaching that

Ever taken a ride on the Rank Express? If you’re a New Yorker, you have. It’s the one car on seemingly every subway train (usually toward the end) that doesn’t have air conditioning. And it’s always a surprise, isn’t it? There you are on the platform, sweatin’ like a whore