If you’ve never been to the Paramount Theatre, read Christy’s recent post that describes just how rad that place is. It is, by far, my favorite Bay Area venue. I’ve been wanting to do this, and post about it, for years, but I keep forgetting. Thankfully, I was reminded by

The whole deal with Eat in Greenpoint is that they only serve locally sourced organic food from New England and the tri-state area, that is mostly as far as I understood to be either vegetarian or vegan. And if you think they’re fucking kidding, well, according to their website, they

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

For some reason, being smart and cultured is considered sexy. Whether you actually are these things doesn’t really matter as long as you pretend to be, or at least pretend to want to be. And that’s where museum free days come in. Pretty much all of the best museums in

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,

Fall is coming to a foreseeable end, and yet, it’s not quite the reign of cold front terror that is February. This is prime time to wear the cutest things that winter has to offer before shit really hits the fan cold-wise. And what better time to prance around in

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