A Few Words with Comedian Brian Posehn

If you haven't heard of funny man Brian Posehn, chances are you've seen his work--with a resume that includes "The Sarah Silverman Show," the original "Comedians of Comedy," regular appearances on Comedy Central's Roasts and "Late Night with Conan O'Brien." This weekend, he's headlining four shows at Comix (Fri. and Sat. at 8pm and 10:30pm; buy tickets here). In honor of his visit to New York, I asked Brian to tell us about five of his favorite places in the city. Here's what he had to say (so now you can stalk him this weekend. You're welcome).



(1) The Burger Joint at the Parker Meridien: It's a burger joint hidden inside the lobby of a fancy pants hotel, like most good burger joints. Perfect, simple burger and a surly but friendly staff straight out of that old "SNL" Cheeseburger Cheeseburger sketch.

(2) Midtown Comics: Huge two-level comic shop right by Times Square. All the nerds are tough New Yorkers. I had never been afraid for my life while perusing Batman trade paperbacks before I found this shop.

(3) Vasacs Horseshoe Bar/ 7B: Great little dive bar in the East Village. The jukebox is totally metal and they have a Buck Hunter game. And you might even glimpse the ghost of David Cross.

(4) Original Original Original Original Ray's Pizza: This is the best one in the city. I forget where it is, I was very drunk. But it is worth finding.

(5) Morimoto NYC: Yes, this is the best sushi I've had in NYC. Yes, it's that frowny "Iron Chef" dude. The real secret to why his food is so awesome is that angels jerk off on it before it makes it to your table. Sounds gross, but try the miso cod and you'll thank me and those angels.

The Gold-Digger's Guide to Meeting Men

Are you an attractive New York woman looking to support your gaudy lifestyle without working or contributing to society in any way? Then you're in luck! At these five bars, there are plenty of wealthy men ready to shower beautiful young ladies with free booze and lavish gifts, and all they require in return is the pleasure of your company. Oh, and also, you might have to sleep with them. (Photo by szlea on Flickr)

Rose Bar:

Few New York hot spots manage to stay hot, but this sleek, swank lounge at the Gramercy Park Hotel has been attracting the rich and famous since 2006. Wear something chic and snag a seat at the bar; then act bored until that dreamy Hermes-clad “hipster” offers to buy you a $20 cocktail. And if he doesn’t, make eyes at the old creep in the corner: If he got in, it’s because he knows how to tip, which is good news for you.

Bemelmans Bar:

Unlike the downtown hot spots, the Carlyle Hotel's timeless cocktail bar attracts a more refined class of well-to-do gentlemen. Sure, they may be fat, bald and married, but so are all the best sugar daddies. Plus, at Bemelmans, a pretty young girl is more of a novelty: The last time these guys got a taste of a 25-year-old, it came in a bottle of Macallan.

The Hustler Club:

All men love strip clubs, and the wealthier ones flock to the Hustler Club for the top-quality steaks and above-average talent. Linger near the private rooms and be prepared to pounce on an overpaid Wall Street executive right after a lap dance. Even for the most homely maiden, seducing a guy who just dropped $1K on a girl who didn’t put out is as easy as, well, seducing a guy who just dropped $1K on a girl who didn’t put out.

Monkey Bar:

Are you searching for your very own Patrick Bateman--tall, dark, handsome and a big deal in the '80s--sans the psycho killer part? If Dorsia was booked, Bateman and his crew might be found at Graydon Carter’s midtown hangout, where a sea of Armani suits gather each night after work to drink heavily, compare business cards and talk about their female coworkers in a way that’s borderline illegal.

Bar & Books:

What happens when you take a swank Upper East Side space and fill it with cigar smoke and fine whiskeys? A would-be sugar baby’s dream scenario. Men who smoke cigars tend to be rich (after all, they can just pay the cancer to go away, right?), and with but a handful of smoke-friendly establishments left in New York, Lexington Bar and Books is a go-to spot for the type of hedge-fund d-bags who only like to hang out with girls too stupid to know what a hedge fund is.

Best New York Bars for a One-Night Stand

Thank god for alcohol, without which no one would ever have gotten laid--least of all that snaggletoothed disaster sitting at the bar. But after a few car bombs, she starts to look pretty good, and soon it's off to your place for a night of ... well, you know. But not every New York bar is conducive to meeting Mr. or Ms. Right Now. Where to go when you're on the market for a good old-fashioned, no-strings-attached one-night stand? These six bars, where the pretenses are low and the odds of scoring are high. 

Dorrian's:

There's a reason why the notorious Preppy Killer selected his victim at Dorrian's: It's easy to get a girl to leave with you. I don't know whether it's the stench of Burberry cologne on the dudes or the blinding Lily Pulitzer yellows on the girls, but something about Club D makes everyone want to do really depraved things with a stranger. 

Southside:

Are you in the market for a one-night stand, preferably one that involves a fake socialite with a real eating disorder? You're in luck, because overpriced drinks are only one of the things Southside is peddling; guaranteed anonymous hookups are the other. 

Union Pool:

Just because you have an ironic moustache doesn't mean you don't deserve to get laid (or does it?). Regardless, when hipsters get lonely, they head to Williamsburg's most notorious pickup bar to drink heavily and go home with other misbegotten artists (read: bartenders), and then spend the next week trolling the Craigslist "Missed Connections" archives for posts about themselves. 

The Anchor:

Here are some words that come to mind when I think about this Soho spot: Boozy. Sloppy. Sweaty. Crowded. Incidentally, the same words could be used to describe the kind of sexual encounters that tend to result from a long night of drinking at The Anchor--except, perhaps, crowded. Unless you're into that sort of thing. 

No Malice Palace:

Don't let the post-12am line outside fool you: This is a dirty dive bar, through and through. And it's packed with drunken 20-somethings looking to relive their college days by making questionable decisions in someone else's bedroom. If that happens to end with a walk of shame circa 10am, everyone's a winner. 

Botanica Bar:

This hip Lower East Side bar has been helping New Yorkers get laid for years, thanks to super cheap drinks and good music that's just loud enough to discourage excessive getting-to-know-you conversation. Stick the basics--what's your name, where do you live, is it contagious--then book it to her place.

New York Bars I've Fallen Down In

Every true drinker has woken up at least once to discover a bruise or drinking-related injury from the previous night. Me, more than others. Since the day I turned 18--er, 21--I've displayed an almost magnificent tendency to drink, slip and fall, and I've done it at bars across New York City. Why am I telling you all this? Because I'm drunk now, obviously. But seriously, watch your step at these seven bars, or you could end up like me--and as my parents can confirm, you really don't want that. 

Chloe 81:

The stairs that lead down to this exclusive Lower East Side lounge are steep (especially that last one, which is deeper than it looks)--hence the "watch your step" sign. But pounding Jameson on the rocks really isn't conducive to watching anything other than your life flash before your eyes, which might explain why I fell down the whole flight not long ago. Anthony, the bouncer, kindly insisted that it wasn't that bad a fall, but the bruises I incurred told a different story.  

Janis:

Given my penchant for falling, I probably shouldn't be allowed out of the house at all, let alone while rocking four-inch heels. Particularly if it's raining. I made it up the front steps to this West Village hot spot (named for Janis Joplin, who once lived in the building) just fine; the problem arose when I tried to navigate the steps inside to get down to the subterranean lounge. My heels were wet, the stairs were slippery and the crowd of witnesses down below gave me a standing ovation. Hey, at least someone was able to stand. 

Von:

This East Village classic has experienced a resurgence since the debut of its lower-level lounge, which boasts a second bar, a DJ and a more dancey vibe. The plus side about falling down the stairs at Von is that you can't really be seen by anyone because there are doors at both ends. The downside is, when you're even looking for a plus side in this situation, your life is pretty much over.

Southside:

I used to bartend at the now-defunct Martignetti Liquors, so when my bosses opened this swanky subterranean spot in Nolita, it became my very own Cheers bar. Unfortunately, my name wasn't the only thing everyone knew; my inclination to spontaneously fall after one too many Warchild shots (bourbon, peach schnapps and sour mix) was another. If I told you how many times the bouncer, Q, has peeled me up off the stairs, you would feel sick. What's that you say? You already feel sick from reading this?

Sway:

One of the few Soho spots with real staying power, Sway is like the scene of the crime--where the crime in question is "things I do when I drink." Regulars know that the back room is where it's at: The bar is easier to access than the main bar up front, the banquettes are prime for getting wild and you can easily reach the staircase that leads to the less crowded bathrooms. And that's where I was going when I tripped down about 10 of them. Luckily no one remembers it, least of all me. 

Shoolbred's:

Now I know what you're thinking: "Maybe you should just avoid bars with stairs, Justine." Yes, I probably should. But a recent fall at this cozy East Village pub--think stained glass paneling, a fireplace and a huge selection of Scotch and bourbon--proves that stairs aren't my only problem. So are barstools. Yep, getting off a barstool can be hazardous, in this case because the heel of my shoe got caught on the chair as I tried to dismount. Luckily nobody got hurt, unless you count my pride. Just kidding--I obviously don't have any of that! 

Kenmare:

Falling down the stairs that lead to the subterranean lounge at this Nolita hot spot is like wearing a huge sign on your face that says "I can't hang." It's pretty much the worst thing ever, and after having done it just the other night, I'm pretty much the worst person ever. A room full of fabulously cool people who I'll now never know will be more than happy to confirm that.

Bars That Make Me Wanna Kill Myself

Thirty-year-old frat boys who confuse Murray Hill with Sigma Chi. Hedge fund douche bags who refer to the Hamptons as "The 'Tones." Brainless girls in Jessica Simpson brand stilettos who are about 20 pounds too heavy for that dress. Staten Islanders. These are a few of my least favorite things. And you can find them all at these five bars. (Photo: This girl loves Pacha! I hate her.)

Tonic:
The only thing worse than Tonic East, this Times Square spot is like the seventh circle of hell disguised as a sports bar. 

Bar None:
I used to go to Bar None all time. When I was in high school. That pretty much sums it up. But just in case you need more, it's a popular destination for sailors during Fleet Week and hobos at all times--and if they don't get you, the skanks will. 

Dorrian's:
This is a great bar to meet a one-night stand who you won't ever have to call again. Other than that, it is to be avoided. 

Continental:
There is one single reason why anyone has ever gone to Continental, and that is because it serves five shots of anything for $10. I'm a perpetually broke alcoholic, and you still couldn't get me to go there without a roofie and a blindfold.

Pacha:
Just because it works in Ibiza doesn't mean it works in New York City. 'Nuff said.

A Citysearch Special Report: Places We'd Like To See Squashed by the "Cloverfield" Monster

Lady Liberty is just one of the New York City landmarks that takes a beating in the highly anticipated new monster movie, "Cloverfield," which hits theaters today. From what I can surmise, the premise goes something like this: Young, fun-loving crowd of New Yorkers are at one of those cheesy parties where the hosts videotape their guests talking about how totally awesome the party is, when all hell breaks loose. Suddenly New York is under attack by a savage, futuristic-Godzilla-style monster. Chaos and massive destruction ensue as said monster proceeds to obliterate everything (and everyone) in its path, all but leveling the city. But every movie has a hero (although judging from the "Cloverfield" cast, that hero needn't be a celebrity), and ours turns out to be one of the dudes who was at that party before all the madness began. Ultimately, that guy, whoever he is, leads a mission to defeat the monster, thereby restoring order and saving the city.

With any luck, "Cloverfield" will deliver at least one good old-fashioned impaling--perhaps one that involves the Empire State Building needle, for example--but suffice it to say that there will be blood. So, at the risk of offending a broad spectrum of our audience, we're paying tribute to this epic movie with a little hit list of our own: Places We'd Like to See Squashed by the "Cloverfield" Monster.

Duane Reade (any and all locations)
Sorry, "Cloverfield," but we've already got a monster that's hell-bent on destroying this town!

Manhattan Mall
This unfortunate attempt at an urban strip mall has only one redeeming characteristic: Keeping property values down in Herald Square--and to be fair, some of the credit for that also goes to Penn Station, Madison Square Garden and Macy's.

Southern Hospitality
JT, JT, JT... Like we said a few weeks ago when your restaurant snagged the No. 1 spot on our list of the 10 Worst Restaurants of 2007: Just because you can do everything, doesn't mean you should.

Dave and Buster's
A D&B is just fine in a suburban mall--or a suburban anything--but if this is the "new" Times Square, we'll take the seedy strip joints, panhandlers, and meth-heads of yesteryear.

MacDougal Street (Between West 3rd and Bleecker)
Ever wondered what it would look like if a drunken fraternity convention plopped itself down in the West Village and refused to leave? Well, this is what that would look like.

Mars 2112
I'd sooner volunteer to be mangled by a rabid pit bull than spend five minutes at this space-themed travesty of a restaurant.

Staten Island
Relax, we don't literally want to see S.I. crushed by a monster, it's more of a figurative thing. Like, if the five boroughs were stranded on a desert island, and they had to eat one of the boroughs to ensure the survival of the other four ...

Agree? Disagree? Send us your beef via email, or leave a comment here and tell everyone what places you'd like the see squashed by the "Cloverfield" monster.