Can This Really Be Manhattan?

Believe it or not, there are actually still unexplored parts of Manhattan, and we're not just talking about Washington Heights. NYC-based artist Matthew Jensen is photographing the "nowhere" spots, places that are not built up at all and are not designated parks. Not all of these places are lush landscapes. Most are abandoned buildings and overgrown plots of land. But there are some untouched scenic spots, which serve as a reminder that even in a city as overdeveloped as New York, there can still be untapped treasures. So go out and explore the rest of Manhattan, but be quiet about it. The last thing we need is to see another Times Square sitting on the landscape above in ten years.

Portrait of the Big Apple

Sometimes you can go weeks in this city without recognizing anyone you pass on the streets. Perhaps this shouldn't be too surprising given how many millions of people live in New York and how many more pass through here every day. But you don't really start to feel a part of a community until you get to know the people. Luckily, one artist has taken on the incredible task of drawing every single person in New York. He sketches in the subways, museums and in Taco Bell and is on the verge of creating the most comprehensive catalog of New Yorkers ever. We can finally get to know all our neighbors. Look through his blog and maybe you'll even find yourself.

A Little of Everything

New York is by far the most multicultural place in the world. Queens alone has more variety than the rest of the Western Hemisphere. So it should be no surprise that this city offers some of the best ethnic cuisine on the planet. With so much variety though, it can be hard to figure out where to start. We asked our resident food expert, Angelica, to put together a short list of some of the best exotic restaurants in New York. Put down that cheeseburger for two minutes and read this:

La Portena

Argentinean

This excellent restaurant in Jackson Heights is very authentic to its ethnic roots. The restaurant has a very classy, yet comfortable ambiance. The people working there are extra sweet, and the food is unbeatable. I recommend any of their salads, especially the Russian Salad, which comes with potato, carrots, peas and mayonnaise. If you're craving something meatier, their Skirt Steak is tender, juicy and well seasoned with a perfect little complementary sauce. To die for!

Jardin de China

Chinese and Spanish

A Chinese restaurant where the servers speak Spanish? Cultural meshing like that only happens in New York. I've been eating at this restaurant in Corona since I was a little girl and it still hasn't lost its charm. There are an endless amount of tasty well-priced combinations. There's the boneless crackling chicken with rice and platanos if you're in the mood for something Spanish or the beef and pepper steak if you're leaning towards Chinese. And if you can't make up your mind, try the sesame chicken with rice and beans. The possibilities are endless.

Pollos A la Brasa Mario

Colombian

This joint, also located in Jackson Heights, offers big affordable portions of the best Colombian food you'll find anywhere in New York. The dishes are always exactly what you ask for, nothing more, nothing less. I recommend trying the Bandeja Tipica. It's grilled steak with rice, beans, plantains and some delicious crackling pork. Even if you've never eaten Colombian food, it will hit the spot. Best of all, it's open 24 hours a day, seven days a week.

Caridad Restaurante

Dominican

This hole in the wall on the Upper West Side offers great cheap food. Get a whole chicken with rice and beans for just ten dollars. But the real bargain are the lunch specials, which cost all of $7. There's something here for every meal of the day. Start your mornings right with some Mangu (mashed plantains). For lunch grab the scrumptious Cuban sandwich. Finish your day with one of the daily specials. I recommend the stewed oxtail. But if that sounds too exotic, stick with the whole chicken. Then start all over again the next day.

Got a recommendation for the best NYC ethnic cuisine? Leave a comment here or e-mail us at losersguidenyc@gmail.com

You Think Our Subways Are Complicated?

New Yorkers have a tendency to think in hyperboles. We have the fastest walkers, the best pizza and the sleaziest ex-governor. Some may also believe we have the most intricate subway system on the planet. But wait until you see the competition. Just compare our system to Tokyo's, which mixes public and private transit networks, and you'll never complain about the MTA again:



For more crazy transit maps, check out Treehugger.com

My Morning Adventures

Our overworked freelancer, Varun, takes a minute to appreciate the joys of his morning commute.

Every morning on my commute to work, I have the great fortune of walking through central Harlem, from Lenox Avenue to St. Nicholas. In New York, little every day practices like the trek to work bring a sense of familiarity that help make an otherwise foreboding city seem like home. For me, the 10 minute walk to the A train is rarely unpleasant, sometimes educational, and always entertaining. This morning was no exception.

During the first few blocks of my journey, I encountered the usual cast of characters, like a scene from the iconic Spike Lee joint, "Do the Right Thing". On 128th and Lenox was Harlem’s resident sage, an old, seemingly homeless man armed with colorful sidewalk chalk which he uses to create powerful messages to the youth like “Your mind is a treasure chest -- and a book is the key!”. On 126th, I get my morning musical fix from the man who plays swinging jazz tunes on his keyboard religiously every day (when it’s not raining).

Then, there is the military man who patrols the streets every day on the corner of 125th and Lenox in the same set of army fatigues, carrying a pair of binoculars to keep a close eye on the city. As I approach the Apollo Theater, I see another familiar face; a girl who commutes in the opposite direction at approximately the same time as me every day (depending on where our paths cross along 125th, I can figure out how late I am for work).

The death of Micheal Jackson has brought even more intrigue to this area around the Apollo in the form of well-wishers, mourners, and opportunists. And this morning, as I passed the makeshift memorial and the vendors hawking MJ memorabilia and blasting his tracks from their jam boxes, I caught a glimpse of a new sight that was so good I felt I needed to share it with you all: Heading toward me by the corner of 125th and Frederick Douglass was an older women walking with a cane. She had a big belly, but was definitely too old to be pregnant, yet on her t-shirt she scrawled in blue marker: “Micheal’s Baby in my Belly”. I’m assuming she was referring to the recently departed King of Pop, making this possibly one of the most bizarre tributes to the man, and certainly one of the most disturbing. It was just further proof that Harlem is one of the best places to be for a fascinating morning stroll.

The Fourth of July

The Loser's Guide would like to wish everyone a happy Independence Day weekend! Like many New Yorkers, we celebrated by watching the fireworks. NYC doesn't mess around - it was the biggest fireworks display in the country, with 22 tons of pyrotechnics exploding over the Hudson. And for the first time since September 11th, the fireworks returned to the West Side of Manhattan. (Yes, that means New Jersey got to mooch off our show). The West Side Highway was closed off to car traffic and hundreds of thousands of people flooded the road for dozens of blocks.

We were just north of 72nd street when the show started. For the first ten minutes, the fireworks display was unreasonably far downtown and near impossible to see clearly. The crowd's American spirit was quickly replaced by the New York spirit of impatience and aggravation. A few people in the crowd started to walk away; others were grumbling over the city's horrible planning. Then, a wave of fireworks exploded their way farther uptown, reaching the 50's. The crowd was pacified. For the next half an hour, New Yorkers cast aside their apathetic spirit and allowed themselves a few Oooo's and Aaaah's.

NYC Pride

There's nothing New Yorkers love more than protests and parades. It's an excuse to "rub up against strangers," as Regina Spektor puts it. And few are more lively than the annual Gay Pride Parade. Held last weekend, this year's parade also commemorated the 40th anniversary of the famous Stonewall Riots, which took place in the West Village. New Yorkers proudly threw off their work attire and marched in their full glory, exposing their well-toned abs (courtesy of expensive NYC gyms) and elaborate tattoos that they may or may not have gotten moments before at a seedy village parlor. The Loser's Guide was there to document all the festivities.

The Stonewall Inn Float

Chuck Schumer and his tiny entourage
brave the crowds and the heat


Crowds gather on Fifth Ave

In front of the Stonewall Inn

photographs by Claire

Picking the Perfect Seat in a NYC Movie Theatre

We forced our Senior Cheapskate Correspondent, Seth, to see "Whatever Works" in theaters this weekend. We hoped that this movie, which marks Woody Allen's return to filming in New York City, might inspire Seth to write a kick ass review. Instead he wrote this blog:

I went to see Whatever Works this weekend in the Upper East Side and was overwhelmed by the chaos of the NYC movie theater. Old Jews and Jewesses were cackling with every Woody Allen punchline while teens fornicated in the front rows. Meanwhile a solitary old woman spent the first fifteen minutes of the film staring at me as though I'd hurled her cat out a window. With all this in mind, here are a few rules I've found useful for picking the best seat in a NYC movie theater. Because in this city, a cell phone ringing in the middle of a movie is really the least of your problems. NYC is filled with crazy characters, but when you have to pay 12 bucks for a ticket, the last thing you want is for them to be the show.

Rule #1: Avoid people sitting alone. Yes, we all like to go to the movies solo once in a while. But more often than not, the people who you do see all by themselves at the theater are among the craziest.

Rule #2: Don't sit near anyone wearing bags instead of clothing. Just don't.

Rule #3: Stay away from young lovers (too many public displays of affection) and old couples (too many public displays of aggravation). Instead, find a nice middle-aged couple who have grown comfortable with the fact that they have nothing left to say to each other.

Rule #4: Keep away from people eating hot dogs (messy) or holding an enormous drink (definite mid-movie bathroom run).

Rule #5: Sit on the aisle or else sit dead center. The former cuts your chances of having a crazy person next to you in half. But it also means you'll have to get up to let people in and out of your row much more often. The latter avoids this problem and positions you well for watching the film. But then you've got to deal with those extra crazies. Your choice.

Two final points to remember: Always arrive early enough to sample your seat. It may seem fine at first, but if the person next to you starts weeping loudly during the first preview, be ready to switch. And second, remember that we all have different degrees of tolerance. Some people may prefer to sit next to a crazy person if it spares you from sitting in the front row. Personally, I'd take the neck pain and eye strain, but that's just me.

A Day at the NYC Unemployment Office

Our lead investigative journalist, Seth, is so dedicated to his work that he actually became unemployed to pursue this article on the subterranean world of New York City's Unemployment Office. Here is his report:

It's very easy to overlook the Department of Labor's office in New York City all together. The office is located in Harlem on 125th street and sits directly above an OTB. The irony is blinding. Now, the desperately unemployed can collect their free government money and invest it wisely on the horse races, all without having to leave the block. It could be worse, I suppose. There could be a liquor store next door (instead, there's a McDonalds).

Like all recently laid off people, I am here today for a mandatory meeting. If you lose your job, and you've worked long enough (at least two financial quarters) and made enough money (sorry, that $6 an hour internship won't cut it), you can collect unemployment for up to 26 weeks. Usually, if you've been working at the same place for a while and with a pretty consistent salary, the government will end up giving you about half of your weekly salary, up to $405/week, which is the maximum amount anyone can collect. These numbers are all higher than they would have been last year thanks to the stimulus package.

Before I was laid off, I really had no notion of what unemployment would be like. The only image in my mind was of George Costanza on Seinfeld being perpetually out of work and frantically trying to make up businesses where he had interviewed. I started to think of what glorious business I would make up. (Maybe something like Canopy City, an organization that teaches city dwellers how to climb trees in central park?)

As it turns out, however, Seinfeld was very much pre-Internet. Today, there is very little human interaction required. You file your weekly unemployment claims online, search for jobs on Craigslist and other specialized sites and receive e-mails from your contact at the Department of Labor with potential jobs. This is a mixed bag, I think, because it is good to interact with real people and have a mandate to leave your cave.

In any case, you do have to show up for one mandatory meeting. You are told to approach the meeting like a real job interview - dress nice, show up on time and have a resume with you. When I get there, I am ushered into a large classroom filled with 50 of the most multi-ethnic, multi-generational people I've encountered in one space. For a moment, I feel nostalgic. We are sitting in crappy chairs with a fold-able arm to write on, just like in college. Then I remember I just graduated college a year ago and feel eager to get on with this orientation.

We fill out some forms to enter us into a Workforce system that will notify us of job opportunities. Every once in a while, I hear one of the instructors critiquing someone's form ("Sir, we don't use alpha; we need numbers." "Maam, we need your name and birthday and everything else, please.") I look around the room and see the many interpretations of "work attire." There's the denim lady (yes, both top and bottom are denim), the group of boys wearing hoodies and, of course, the woman in yoga pants.

After I learn about available programs that can remake me into a successful EMT or Bank Teller, I am called out of the room with a small group for our personal meetings. I wait outside in the hall and stare at the Yoga woman. She looks to be in her early 30's and has a rolled up blue yoga mat slung over her mint green cotton summer shirt. She makes pleasant small talk with the teenage mother-of-two next to her as though they're in line at Trader Joe's. Finally I am called in for an interview which lasts 45 seconds where I'm told there's nothing they can do for me. Then I'm allowed to leave, back to my cave.

On the way out, I pass the one person there wearing a full business suit, talking to a bearded man who looks like a lumberjack. "I want to say I have better things to do today than this," the suited man says, "but really, I don't." The lumberjack nods his head and says, "It still sucks though." To which the suited man says, "For sure."

47 Minutes of Color Coordinated City Interaction

Our expert at meeting new people, Claire, describes how in less than an hour she learned the folklore of a mysterious place called Roosevelt Island, stripped in public and restored a hard-fought peace to the land.

Last week, a friend of mine sent me a link to a fun free New York weekend experience. The website was Improv Everywhere and the experience was called mp3Experiment6, whatever that means. All we had to do was download a free 47-minute long mp3 track, wear a certain color shirt (we chose blue) with a white shirt underneath and take the subway to Roosevelt Island. When we got there, we had to press play at 4:00. Free color-coordinated adventure on an island I'd never been to before? I'm there!

We took the F-train from Union Square and the closer we got to Roosevelt Island, the more people wearing colored shirts with white undershirts got on the train. When we finally got there, I knew I'd have to use the bathroom before this 47 minute long experience began. Unfortunately, it turns out that the only public bathroom on Roosevelt Island is a Starbucks with one stall. While we waited in the incredibly long line, curious people were taking our pictures. [I should also mention there was one main rule for the event: don't discuss the event with other people while on the island.] We managed to get it done just in time for the 4 o'clock start.

We decided that we didn't want to be right near the subway entrance, sandwiched between a Starbucks and a Duane Reade, so we headed over to a grassy knoll with a beautiful view of some Queens factories.

At 4, we pushed play and after a couple minutes of Island techno music, the "Omipotent Voice of Steve" welcomed us to the Experience. He told us we would be learning the magical history of Roosevelt Island but there were a few things we had to do first: deep breathing, touching our toes, giving thumbs up to people not participating in the experience and also shadowing said people on the island, square dancing, and taking 15 second naps.

After all that, we finally began the Journey to the southern tip of the Island. To help pass time, Steve told us the story of Peters and the Wolves, a tale of three friends named Peter who decided to play a game of baseball, they lost their ball, some wolves got it, they beat up the wolves with their bats, there was a sexy lady wolf who tried to woo them but it turned out she was a sheep and they ate her. We were told this tale took place on the island.

After a few more activities - Steve Says, freeze tag and a dance party - the real event began. We were instructed to seperate based on our shirt colors for a game of Bats vs. Hammers. According to the website, 1400 people were given inflatable bats and hammers (there were many more who were not armed simply because supplies ran out) and all were told to attack. We fought for a few minutes until Steve chimed in with a message of unity. He told us we should unite against the "common evil." In this case, that evil was The Wolf. He told us to look south and there was a big cloud of smoke out of which a big Man-Wolf emerged.

To show our new team unity, everyone took off their colored t-shirts and began one large White team. The Wolf ran through the crowd of thousands and everyone attacked him, either with their inflatable weapons or their t-shirts. Once the wolf was defeated, we celebrated in slow motion for a long time. It all ended with a final instruction from Steve to look up to the sky and say goodbye.

The real adventure was getting off the island. Fucking F-train.

Check out the Improv Everywhere website for some of their other city antics including the No Pants subway ride and the Cell Phone Symphony.

My Quixotic Queens Quest

Our Senior Mets Correspondent, John, writes about the beautiful game of baseball and his quest for something more. As a disclaimer, we should state firmly that the secondary characters mentioned in this piece may or may not be the editors of Loser's Guide. However, that in no way affected our judgment in publishing this Pulitzer worthy essay. Go Mets!

I don't think quixotic means what I think it means, but who could turn down the chance for an alliterative Q title?

Every lad remembers his very first quest. Ironically, mine was to read the Lord of the Rings cover to cover. It was a long trek, but inspired by Frodo's determination, I read the shit out of those books.

Recently I embarked on a new quest. I went to my first regular season game at the Mets newly completed home, CitiField, with Varun, Eric and Seth. Immediately after walking into the Jackie Robinson Rotunda, you could tell the stadium wouldn't be as dank and depressing as that loveable dump, Shea Stadum. It was a great game, complete with the first grand slam at CitiField (by Omir Santos, of all people), but that wasn't the reason it was memorable.

I had read a lot about one new food that fans had to try: sweet and sour chicken tenders. I like sweet things, sour things and chickeny things, so it seemed right up my alley. I told my friends i was going to go search for them and Seth volunteered to join me. I had to warn him that I didn't know where the place was, so it might take some searching, but he he was up for it, and we set out.

We were sitting in the right field section of the Caesars Level, so naturally we began by searcing the Caesars Club, which is an indoor area, complete with multiple food stands and a bar, where fans can go to watch the game if it begins to rain. We searched all the menus there and only found regular chicken tenders. Seth naively asked if I would settle for those, and I told him that I would settle for nothing less than sweet and sour chicken tenders, but that I would understand if he wanted to give up. To my surprise, he just said, "If I'm going to be walking this much, I need a beer."

We decided to climb up to the Promenade Level to see if our luck would change there. While we failed to locate the object of our quest, I did find that Mamas of Corona, a staple of Shea Stadium cuisine, had been carried over to CitiField (behind hime plate on the Promenade, among other places). Seth was also able to find a beer stand with no line. I asked multiple Mets employees where I could find sweet and sour chicke, but none of them had never heard of it!

By this point, we had doubled back to right field stands, and were close to our seats. I could tell that Seth's resolve was wavering now that he had his beer. He informed me that he was consiering giving up. I told him I understood, and that while Sam could never have left Frodo at the gats of Mordor, some people just weren't cut out for this kind of thing.

Now alone, I soldiered on to the Field Level. I had heard that much of the new food was in the Center Field area in that level. As I approached, I found the new and improved Home Run Apple (which hardly ever comes up now that the outfield fence looks more like it should be guarding the border in Texas). I walked past the Seafood restaurant, over the as yet unnamed bridge, and through an absolute mass of people.

When I approached the largest group of food stands yet, my spirits lifted. I found pizza, burgers, ribs, international beer, shakes and corn dogs. In the last hour, I had passed Carvel, Dunkin Donuts, Subway, El Verano Taqueria, Shake Shack, Blue Smoke, Daruma of Tokyo, Box Frites and more, but the sweet and sour chicken was no where to be found. I began to lose hope, and to worry that rather than Frodo, I was destined to play the role of Gollum - constantly searcing for the Precious, obsessed and dissatisfied.

Having walked the entire outfield area, I was now in left field. But just as I began to ponder giving up my quest, I spotted a food stand in the distance called The Hot Dog and Chicken Stand! I ran over to look at the menu. There was no sweet and sour chicken. But there was Sweet and Spicy Chicken! No wonder no one knew what the hell I was talking about.

I returned triumphant to my friends, and having exerted all that energy getting to know the ins and outs of CitiField, I was ready for a feast. How were they, you ask? Eh, they were okay.

If anyone has a story they want to share about their experiences at the new Yankee Stadium, please e-mail it to us at losersguidenyc@gmail.com

My Memorial Day Weekend Sit-On-My-Ass-Cation

Last month I started dreaming of the sweet vacation that I would take over Memorial Day Weekend. However, as the weekend got closer, I thought maybe it'd be better to save on the money and planning and just do a fun staycation instead (maybe explore Chinatown or Astoria and call it an adventure). Yet, somehow even this proved too much to organize and my staycation got downgraded to a Sit-On-My-Ass-Cation.

Let me take a minute here to define some key terms. A vacation is a sometimes expensive retreat from the world of commutes, 9-5 jobs and an apartment with dishes and/or babies piling up. It usually involves some medium pampering, fine dining, awkward cultural meshing and a collection of all the qualities New Yorkers like us hate to see tourists exhibit in our own city.

A staycation is a cheap alternative to traveling. Rather than book a flight and hotel in god knows where for lord knows how much, staycationers take advantage of ethnic options in their own area. Perhaps nowhere is this an easier option to enjoy than in New York where six blocks is enough to transport you from Little Ukraine to Little Jewish Diaspora (yes, I just referred to the Lower East Side as Little Jewish Diaspora, deal with it!).

Now, a sit-on-my-ass-cation is really a last ditch option for those eager to step away from their daily lives but too lazy to move their feet. It involves a couch or bean bag chair, copious amounts of alcohol, dependable and delicious delivery food and, most importantly, the full 5-DVD set of Planet Earth. When you see that Snow Leopard hunting its prey on the Khyber Pass along the terrorist-infested Pakistan-Afghanistan border, you won't want to be anywhere else. And don't even get me started on the migration of Demoiselle Cranes struggling to fly over the tallest peaks of the Himalayas each year... Life is exhausting. Just sit and watch for a while.

- Seth

Working Out in the Citay

Whether you're into exercise or looking to get into it, there's a lot to think about for us all. You may have noticed city living isn't as unhealthy as one may at first expect it to be. After all, we do walk a lot everyday. Add to that evening activities like running from cops and the occasional hand-to-hand combat and you find yourself in a pretty sweet situation for remaining fit. But maybe you're looking to get the benefits of the urban lifestyle just mentioned without actually taking on that lifestyle. Well sure, but you just sapped the fun out of it for yourselves so don't complain if this gets dry.

The first thing to think about is what you want from exercise. There are various goals to have, and various different paths to take depending on which you pick. The most fiscally important difference being whether you need to join a gym or not. If you're looking mainly to get "fit," and by that I mean losing weight, getting leaner muscle, improving stamina, and improving cardio-vascular/circulatory health, an individually tailored mix of 'cardio' and calisthenics should do the trick.

That pretty much means you don't, strictly speaking, need a gym. You can run around the 1.5 mile Central Park reservoir track, bike the path along the Hudson River and dance the Harlem Shuffle in the streets. You can also get creative in the city's public spaces: Practice your pull-ups on street signs and scaffolding. Take advantage of jungle "gyms" to work out your upper body or do squats. Go kayaking for free in the Hudson and work out your back and arms. And do crunches and push-ups anywhere you damn well please.

However, if you wish to gain muscle mass or just want to tone your muscles you will need an assortment of weights, and possibly machines, that the majority of us can't squeeze into our tiny Manhattan apartments. And that means joining a gym. (Ladies: theres no rule that says weights aren't meant for you, too).

The YMCA and New York Sports Clubs are fine if you've got lots of cash to blow, but the cheapest gym by far is Planet Fitness (19$/month and regular deals that often make it even cheaper). The only problem with this bargain is that it's often ridiculously crowded. However, the gym has a strict "judgment free" policy so if you go there, you can be sure most people won't make fun of you when you stand near my incredible urban-toned body.

So start with some goals, that'll help with forming a routine for exercise that will get you the results you want (wow-have we heard that before). And be ready to change, add to, and take away from the routine as your work outs and goals develop. Later installments soon to come after I finish my upper body workout of scaling a building.

- Rishi

What Ever Happened to Bird Flu?

So, SWINE FLU. That's nice.

But did you know that there are other ways you can die? There are actually many lesser known Fluesies that can have some pretty tremendous effects on us. Now that you're curious, a little scared, and maybe confused, you may be thinking, What are you talking about? Well, my friends, after myself just learning that Swine Flu is NOT the only flu out there I decided to do a little research on others. So here they are, some up-and-coming flues with horrendous possible impacts on individuals and our society in general:

Turkey Flu Similar to Bird Flu, however it differs in that individuals with this subtype are known to develop a mass of epithelial tissue which protrudes from the neck from the larynx to the Cricoid cartilage similar to a turkey's Wattle. In some extreme cases people have grown "Snoods" from their noses as well.

Hamster Flu Individuals suffering from hamster flu have been known to suffer pregnancy, delivering a litter of hairless wrinkly babies, only to eat said babies.

Rat Flu If you live in a large city, look around, or in a mirror-that's what it does to you.

Reticulated Python Flu Individuals become able to unhinge their jaws and swallow large quantities of food, or other things. Unfortunately, there is a very strong correlation with this flu and choking deaths due to risky swallows. Severe body image problems are also common, as the shape of the swallowed food items and objects are easily visible. This has a tendency to make individuals suffering from RPF very self- conscious.

Cameron (subtype Kirk) Flu Individuals afflicted by this terror are often caught off-guard living carefree lives, undirected by deep analytical thinking on what may be termed the 'larger' philosophical issues of life. Soon after contamination, they transform and become rabid religious zealots, anxious to get the 'word,' as they have found it, out to the masses. Hallucinations, illogical thought processes and signs of dementia are common symptoms. This is not to be mistaken for the subtype Diaz variety, which generally affects younger males, with rapid onset of feelings of heat and blood rush to the genital region. Females are less susceptible, though not immune.

And finally the most frequently encountered flu that should not be forgotten or taken for granted:

Common Flu Symptoms include fever, aches and chills. It has been known to be lethal. From what I have gathered, the rapper Common is not actually the source, he is just the site of the flu's transformations, evolutions and a carrier. He has not been quarantined because, as far as I understand, to take away such a bright and positive light from hip-hop and music in general would be its own disaster for the world.


- Rishi

If This is A Curry Dream, I Don't Want to Curry Wake Up

So another Diwali has come and gone. For those (hopelessly misinformed) readers who don’t know, Diwali is one of the most important holidays in India, celebrated by millions upon millions of Hindus, Sikhs, some Buddhists, and Jains alike. It is a festival of lights (yes, I know, like Chanukah!), where people celebrate the victory of good over evil, and knowledge (light) over ignorance (darkness).

To celebrate this year, we decided to all get together for a delicious Indian dinner after work. Ah, but at which reputable institution of South Asian cuisine would we be dining? In most other cities, this would be an easy decision making process: just pick one of the three decent Indian joints in town (the one where the samosas don’t give you the runs) and call it a day.

But in New York, there are always too many choices. Not only are there over a hundred places to pick from, but they all claim to be the best thing since sliced naan. So what is to be done when placed in this particular type of pickle?

Well, what we decided to do is to log on to citysearch, search for the most hilarious restaurant review we could find, and pick that place with little or no regard to the actual menu, prices, ambiance, or location.

It wasn’t long before we stumbled upon a real winner by the name of ‘Curry Dream’. The very first review, entitled “Curry makes me cuuuurazy” immediately caught our eye, and soon, our hearts and stomachs would follow. Read this, and tell me you wouldn’t take the first train out to this place:

Curry Makes me cuuurazy!

08/26/2008 Posted by boyacasha

I was a virgin to curry and indian cuisine for a long time. A friend of mine came over one day and offered me a deal. I go with him to try some indian and he'll go with me to the pink floyd laser show. From that moment forth I start to giggle when I think of indian and curry . I always feel a little crazy. But good crazy, not bad if you get what im throwin at you. Still to this day I hadnt tried curry dream, until recently. i ate and ate and ate. and heck if i didnt have a blast. the curry is scrumptios. like a date with some yummy and spicey, eerr spices. forever i am indebte dto my friend, pink floyd and the curry bean of yesteryear. feel me? love at first curry. go to curry dream, youll never want to wake up again.

Pure poetry!

As it turns out, the food was good, and we all had a New York City Diwali that we’ll never forget. So score 1 for the hilarious restaurant review method, if you get what I'm throwin at you.

- Varun