That settles that...

Some wise friends of mine once raised the contentious issue of the quality of Lake Bell's position in the hallowed halls of babedom (schwing). While any rational man would see her value, haters gonna hate. What you can't hate is someone who knows how to drive radical cars, know what's under the hood, and does it all with a faithful dog by her side. End of discussion

OCTV Ep 1 Lake Bell from Rachelyn Remz-Porter on Vimeo.

Notice the song 10s in. That's why I'm the ordained Reverend of Rad.

Man Up

There’s just a certain way a guy should wear a suit, hold doors /pull out chairs, and learn to express themselves without words. It’s black and white; being the distinction between how it should be done and how the majority of us do it. At most, we each have fleeting moments of almost celluloid glory in which we address a moment perfectly in the most manly fashion possible. To do so we must also be at our sartorial best, as it goes hand in hand with feeling like a boss. Any guy with a fresh application of a choice cologne sporting a well cut suit can attest to having at lease one of these moments, I'd hope.

I’m feeling generally inspired by a film I saw recently which displays an all too good example of what I describe above in a way that only film can. To this we can never come close but I’ve put together a list of radical resolutions to head in the right direction. You’ll have to excuse the winter orientation. It’s been cold this week

Dunderdon is a Swedish workwear company that has one of the only stores I think a guy could walk into naked and walk out with everything they need including a hand carved penknife and leather insulated whisky flask. These days the Scandinavians are kicking goals in fashion circles. I imagine Swedish mine workers taking their overalls to be tailored before doing a 2 month stint below, because even in the dark they know they’ll look good.

From my brief experience of a white winter there's two types of guy you can be. Wet assed tearing the hem of your overpriced J.Crew suit whilst destroying a perfectly good pair of leather souled brogues in the snow OR the guy in the double breasted navy check suit powering through the slush in a powerful pair or Sorel snow boots. Don't be the nube.

Last, but definitely not least, here's the exact suit you should be wearing. No points for guessing why. Walk into a crowded bar in the west village on a cold night in this and the fairer sex will eyeball you like you're the first kid in high school to get his drivers license. Thanks to Duncan Quinn, some gents who are completely legit.

Just in case you don't know the man-spiration for all this, get in your car and go for an evening drive listing to this. Then man up.

Return of Rev Rad

I know that there’s at least three loyal followers out there who have foretold of this day, pined after it, and only now find gratification. I’ve been of a mind to start the ole’ blog up again but have been too busy (lazy) to do so. I’m assuming that the casual banter for which this forum was known will come back easily, like riding a bike, or kegstands. Speaking of which, since the dominant taste of the rev-radicalness © that I threw your way in the past was Yankee flavor it seems only apt to give it another nudge now that I’m living in New York (being all scene and that).


On that note, I have a backlog of restaurants, skate shops, bars, and other cool spots in my repertoire that have been resigned to being written about in my SpongeBob Squarepants diary I keep under my pillow.

These days it’s always best to start where it ends so we’ll take a look at the classic weekend A.M. taco and coffee run. It’s become a minor institution on hungover mornings to throw on some semblance of an outfit and haul my ass on the subway to get an injection of hot, spicy, tortilla wrapped life, followed of course by the obligatory coffee and whatever smack-talk one can muster at that hour. I’ve been hearing rumours that the whole taco scene has really kicked off in Sydney since I moved away last year, which is excellent news. If you’re not even the slightest bit partial to high quality Mexican food you’re either in denial of a Frenchman still bitter about Cinco de Mayo.

Imagine, if you will, a small portion of lightly beer battered white fish covered in spices, cabbage slaw, and chipotle mayo served out of a mint condition VW Kombi. Complement that with a Carte Blanca cerveza and you may as well have had an evening of wheatgrass shots and yoga rather than the 6am touchdown you’re trying to chase away. And to even try to describe the Chorizo breakfast taco would exhaust my use of the thesaurus synonyms for ‘awesome’. The place, Tacombi (see what they did there). The location, Elizabeth between E Houston and Prince, do it! Om nom nom…

Following this, the decision making process leaves the satisfied stomach and makes its way upstairs with the thought “I should still be in bed”, and that’s usually a solid point, but luckily you don’t have to walk too far to snag a quality coffee. I won’t harp on about it, but Saturdays (as I’ve mentioned before) has one of the nicest brews in the land, not that they enjoy making coffee but it’s there for those that ask, and there’s many that do.

And that, my interwebs friends, is how one should respectable wake up in SoHo. Stay tuned for more musings as I get my interweb back on.

Here’s some music for the wander.


Nas - Nasty from Street Injection on Vimeo.