I generally welcome any new addition to my neighborhood, especially when that said addition is not another bodega to compete for my addiction to $1 cans of Arizona iced tea. That being said, the new bar Night of Joy finally opened last week and by far exceeded my expectations.  The

I don’t hang out in the Union Square area often.  It’s too loud and schizo for me between the tourists, the crackheads and the street performers gyrating to Michael Jackson songs and beating the shit out of trash cans.  But one bar I will brave the thousands of Street Sheet

I relish three-day weekends, not just because of the time off, but generally there is a mass exodus from the city and I get to roam around a little bit more people free. For those of you who were like f this I’m outta here. I’m happy for you, but

It took Bros Icing Bros about two weeks to go viral and spawn the spin-off, Hoes Weising Hoes. The Encyclopedia Brotannica and the BroBible declared that women can’t fairly get iced because they actually like the taste of Smirnoff (hence why it’s called “bitch beer”), so the only reasonable alternative

Things that are very New York: accepting your bike as a piece of furniture, having an easier time finding a taco at 3am than computer parts during normal business hours, and making up for your lack of yard with an awesome roof top. And it’s late spring, so it’s time

This just in (Man, I’ve always wanted to say that. Must be the Ron Burgundy in me.)! Gestalt, your favorite bar on 16th between Valencia and Guerrero, is expanding its menu to include a deliciously awesome array of tasty sandwiches to satiate your most drunken fantasies. The new menu will

I talk about Madrone a lot, but how could I not? Every night has it’s own unique draw, so you never know what the crowd’s gonna look like (although for me the main draw is usually a bar stool and cheap whiskey). Perhaps one of the more unlikely nights at

I was introduced to Kennedy’s because my sister used to work at Rainforest Cafe on Fisherman’s Wharf for a while, and after hours of serving something called “Rasta Pasta” to extremely rude and awkwardly-dressed tourists (money belt, anyone?), she would head to Kennedy’s for some late-night fun, then stumble home with