Photo from thehorseboxnyc.com If you’re a sports fan like me, I’m sure it happens to you all the time: Your friends are dying to try that new lounge/bistro/dive in [insert newly gentrified NYC neighborhood here] but all you want to do is sit back with a cheap cold one and

  Photo from someecards.com   So it’s only day two of the NCAA tournament and your bracket’s already busted? Maybe you didn’t even fill out a bracket at all and you’re laughing at all the dumbasses who were actually stupid enough to think they’d win a billion dollars. That’s okay.

Doc Holliday’s gives me the impression that some rich schmuck got bored and decided to helicopter in a small Midwestern bar into Manhattan’s Lower East Side neighborhood. It might have something to do with the old school country music and classic rock springing from the speakers. Maybe it was the

I drink a lot. Probably too much, but I don’t know where you draw the line when it comes to putting poison in your body, so I’ll just assume it’s in chalk somewhere around your dead body. Coming from a family with a history of addiction, I’m keenly aware of

So, it’s Valentine’s week (Yes, it’s an entire week now. Sorry.) and I don’t care if you’re fully ball-n-chained or single and swinging that thang all over the city, one thing V-day evokes in every last warm-blooded human being is the desire to get… some. You know what I’m talking about,

  Howdy, brokesters… apologies for the lack of TBC musings as of late. Happy new year and shit. If you follow me on Twitter/are stalking me in real life, you know that I spent the holiday season getting blotto in my beloved home state of Wisconsin. Yes, America’s darling Dairyland. Land

Like most people that live in Portland right now, you’re probably thinking something along the lines of “the sky is grey, everything is grey, the choices I make get perpetually worse every year, my life is going nowhere, I want to die, is there someone available to take care of