Before embarking on a recent trip across ye olde pond, I asked pals for cheap eats tips since my budget baller ways must follow me wherever I go. After an overwhelming response to try the same “it’s the best in the world, seriously” falafel joint in Paris, I was considerably

It takes a sharp mind and brass balls to be funny. You’re always risking humiliation with every quip, anecdote, or pun you put out there in the world to ideally get some laughs but more likely than not will just get groans (especially with puns). When someone steps up to

It takes a long time to establish oneself as a “neighborhood” institution. From deli counters to comic stores to interestingly dressed hobos, earning the title requires patience and diligence along with just the right vibe. Despite it being relatively new to the scene, Daddy’s in the Billburg has been striving

Most of the year, I despise the MTA with an enthusiasm that I reserve for only the most putrid members of our society, like skeazy guys who catcall and expect you to be appreciative, and Rupert Murdoch. This hatred is for the usual, obvious reasons of fare hikes and the

Welcome to New York during Yule season, suckers. It’s a time of great mirth-sucking and merriment-destroying. From the Black Friday stampedes to Christmas Eve traffic, rarely does a city unify so absolutely under the banner of pissy mood. Holiday magic is in short order, despite what Macy’s would have you

Like any other self-satisfied, elitist New York asshole, I love watching movies about or that use New York City heavily, especially if they’re period pieces or actually filmed in a bygone decade. But what if you’re fairly new to this genre of sorts and you’ve already watched Annie Hall, Manhattan,

If your introduction to magic included Criss Angel’s “Mindfreak”, or Gob in “Arrested Development”, then you could be forgiven for mistaking magicians with, say, ice dancing competitors. But magic hasn’t always been synonymous with guyliner. During the 1920s, when Harry Houdini submerged himself, shackled, inside a chamber he dubbed the

Actually, no. Not unless ‘œthe races’ is a cheeky synonym for one of the  most crowded art museums in the universe. (It isn’t.) Nevertheless, I spent a few hours yesterday at The Met. I hadn’t really been to a proper cultural institution since I moved back to NYC and I