People frequently mistake me for being gay. Certainly much more than they mistake me for being a comedian. But despite the fact that I studied theater in college while working at the Gap, living in the co-ops and sucking dick on the side for money, I am neither gay nor bisexual.

In the belly of a dark theater in Queens, an audience member shouts, “Fortune!” In response, seven grown men, ranging in age and style of dress, move together in synchronous motions. Gazing into crystal balls fluidly morphs into the movement of surgeons snapping on sterile gloves. Now they’re floating on

Union Square  

The Super Bowl is upon us. If you plan on having your friends and family join you for this grand American tradition there will be many parties being thrown. But beyond the wings and the booze, here’s your quick cheap guide to throwing the best Broke Ass Superbowl Party. Let’s

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding

Before you dismiss this article as the blog equivalent of a late night infomercial from which you’ll probably end up spending at least $75 on “miracle” makeup powder (I’m looking at you, Bare Escentuals), hear me out. I recently found myself on the pudgier side of the scale (THANKS holidays,

Halu Izakaya The confluence of Beatlemania and crispy chicken skin is unlikely.  But it does exist, this union between sizzling fowlic (an adjective I was forced out of necessity  to create) epidermis and all things related to the well-known Liverpudlian quartet; it’s called Halu, located in the Inner Richmond. For those

I’m not the first and certainly won’t be the last person to write about the importance of male penis size, but hey, dick talk be making it rain hella page views up in this server. Plus, in the wake of the recent size scandal at Subway, it seemed as good