I’m always looking for ways to work out some energy by hitting the dance floor without paying the price of my first-born child for a drink, and sometimes just dancing around my living room is not enough. So, when I feel the need to get down to some old school

There’s something delightfully awkward about mixing bars and literature, as I learned from last week’s event— the reading at Franklin Park by Electric Literature authors. Upon walking into the bar – which was surprisingly packed and infused with that certain wild, uncoordinated energy – I looked at the little table and mic where the

 You had me at “Drunken.” Dempsey’s in the East Village is known for their Wednesday pub trivia night… and the title just makes me happy. The Drunken Smart Ass Olympics prides itself on the diverse topic range of the questions and since you can have 5 in your team, I

Now that the International Bar has closed its backyard for construction, I’ve been trying to find another dive in the East Village where I may be able to smoke my cigarettes and drink my whiskey and sodas leisurely. And luckily I found that dive only two blocks down 1st Ave.

Here’s an old punk bar with the kinda rules I appreciate: YOU PUKE, YOU CLEAN. Now wouldn’t the world be a better place if all bars had Double Down Saloon’s mentality? I mean, honestly, I know everybody likes going to dive bars to get drunk, but if you take that

A rock and roll speakeasy seems as much like an oxymoron as an affordable bourbon bar, but apparently both exist in a  hideaway under the trampled sidewalks of Alphabet City. Idle Hands was first brought to my attention not because of its over 150 different bourbons (!), or intense selection

Boiler Room, disco ball of my night, fire of my liver. My Sin, my soul. Boi-ler Rooooom: the way the lips slightly part as the last syllable escapes the mouth and puckers as the “m” oozes from the back of the throat. Boi. Ler. Rooooom. This is one of my