That's what Metafilter's internerds are currently trying to decide. Not that the Third Ave. frathole is lacking for competition: other popular candidates include Mars Bar—"they have always been cleaning up after a fight any time I've been in there" and "most of the staff and clientele resembel [sic] Johnny Thunders as well, including the women"— and "anywhere in TriBeca." We were pleased to see two bars we've worked at on the list, but where are the other two? And have the Metafilterers glaringly omitted any other rank-smelling, overpriced get-drunkeries? We hope you'll help fill in the blanks.

The Worst Bars In New York [MF]
[Image via]

Avenue A's grimiest coffeehouse will soon reopen as "Hopscotch, a caf tailored to the needs of children and families," according to a press release we received today. Though its ownership will remain the same (two new co-owners will step in), we're still sad. And we're not even sure why! It's not like Alt was particularly good for anything. The coffee is totally meh. The place reeks of cigs and B.O., even though no one has (legally) smoked there for years. The seating is crowded, broke-down and uncomfortable! The unlockable bathroom is one of the grossest non-Turnpike ones ever! The WIFI IS NOT EVEN FREE! Still, we mourn a bit. Maybe it's because it's just weird to have lived someplace for less than a decade and yet to have seen almost everything cheap and weird about it get systematically obliterated. On the bright side, though, we will totally look forward to rolling our Peg Perego into Hopscotch in some years!

The owners of twee West Village comfort foodery Tea & Sympathy have banded together with other Brit businesses, including Virgin Airlines (!?) to wage a publicity stunt: they're campaigning to have that stretch of Greenwich Ave. officially dubbed "Little Britain," like in that episode of Arrested Development. "The campaign will use typical British humor, posing the question "What's one more Queen in the Village", as well as reminding New Yorkers that the Brits "took Madonna off your hands." What delightful tomfoolery! But some people aren't so enthusiastic about the proliferation of British expats in our town.

Thanks to the support of the good folks at the New York Times and the National Science Foundation, you can now enjoy Social Explorer's Race Map of New York City. Wondering how many Asians there were in Staten Island in 1940? The information is at your fingertips! There are plenty of other fun and functional uses for the site, and we want to congratulate the Times for its sponsorship: While they may be cutting back on the softball-related expenses, at least their reporters can now easily find out, you know, where all the black folks are at.

See that bedroom that's bigger than your studio, peon? It's never been used by its inhabitant, 5-year-old Harrison Costello. He prefers to cuddle up to his parents at night. Creepy? Well, not as creepy as the fact that a consultancy called Soho Parenting exists to address this very issue. Creepier still: Harrison's mom, Domino style director Susie Sara Costello, says that "her family's bed-hopping is 'tough on relations—I'm not going to lie.'" We'll leave the quasi-incest aside here, because we want to kiss up to Susie Sara: So, if Harrison's not using it, can we move in?

There's a new ad campaign designed to convince Europeans that, due to our crappy exchange rate, New York is a cheap place to visit. But that's not all:

Pants-crapping time? Newsweek reports that our fair city could be attacked by angry Iranian agents, who may have already chosen potential targets: "bridges and tunnels, Jewish organizations and Wall Street." We can actually live with this. We never go to Wall Street, we never go to Jersey, and we stay the hell out of Zabar's. Bring it on, bitches!

"Famous author" Rob Byrnes—he wrote the gayest book on earth, Trust Fund Boys—has sniffed out a new angle on the mysterious burning and beating of UES 'society doctor' Denton Sayer Cox. Cox claims that an assailant attacked him on a street corner. But the cops think his injuries are the result of a "gay pickup gone wrong," based on the types of burns and the fact that Cox's wallet was, uh, in his apartment. Sad and not at all funny! What is a little bit intriguing, though, is homo-chick-lit writer Byrnes' take on the whole sordid mess.

New Yorker editor David Remnick told the Daily News that the joke in this recent cartoon is that 'Zbigniew' is difficult to pronounce. But residents of Brooklyn's 'little Warsaw' beg to differ. "The people from different nations, they drink, they get drugs; so why did they make the joke about Polish people?" asked Greenpoint music store owner Anna Doda. The New Yorker's form letter response says that "the tacit assumption ... is that the child is not of Polish origin." Oh really? When contacted for comment, the group of red-faced bums who sit in a pile of their own filth on the corner of Greenpoint and Manhattan Avenues all the time getting into drunken fights, singing, and occasionally crying, were like, "Bleaarrrrrghhhhh!" So... yes? Wait—no?

Breaking! Important! Pinkberry! Our Pinkberry Correspondent, who earlier today complained of not being allowed to mingle froyo flavors, thereby establishing the supremacy of Tasti-D, reports she received a response from "someone at Pinkberry"!

Pinkberry! Ever since we first heard that the West Coast haute froyo chain would soon be colonizing Manhattan, Jamba Juice-steez, we've been waiting with bated breath to see how our town's Tasti gals would handle the transition. Would the ladyfolk cotton to the new lo-cal dessert on the block? Well, word on the street (or at least, in our inbox) is that Pinkberry is some Pink Bullshit.

Also, the Post nailed the three alternate names Paul Cortez suggested for his old band.

Yesterday, we were befuddled by what we thought might be a birth control conspiracy in the making. Why were two West Village CVSes bereft of Plan B, just days shy of Everyone Gets Laid Nite? Luckily, an apparently frequent Plan B purchaser had some inside information about the morning-after madness.

Seriously, save it for the morning after! This sign was spotted at the CVS on the corner of Christopher and 7th, not far from the other CVS out of lady-helper. Similar handwriting; dissimilar spelling skills. The plot thickens, like fertility-indicating cervical mucus.

Earlier: 'Morning After' Crisis in West Village

• Magazine circulation for the second half of 2006? Not so good. The big winners were the celebrity weeklies and Men's Health, which may have found a winning strategy in sticking Dave Zinczenko on the "Today Show" every goddamn day. The big losers? Everyone else, particularly Marie Claire, some copies of which reportedly returned themselves. [WWD]

At this CVS on 6th Avenue near Bleecker, there are no second chances for young ladies after a rough night of "Oh, well, I don't have a condom either...." This Valentine's Day, the socially-active N.Y.U. set is encouraged to double bag it.

If you noticed a dreamy smile on the faces of your fellow subway riders this morning, odds are they were reading Metro, from whence this absolutely charming caption contest springs. We can't think of anything that might humorously describe the image of the young fellow in the picture, but some of you might have one or two ideas. Also, we think we saw something about the chick on the left running for president, but we may have just been confused. Not a lot of coverage on that one.

Well, really just more about Jules Spehar. Yesterday we got a little huffy about the two "25 year olds" who considered themselves "financially independent" because they cover the $3,800 rent on their W. Vil duplex with only a little bit of help from Jules's mommy. Today, an irate tipster demands of us, "How did you miss Jules's Friendster page?" We were thinking about civil rights, okay? Anyway, rest assured that no such omissions will happen in future; we've learned our lesson. We've also learned that Jules Spehar's "favorite books" include "Einstein's Dreams, Haruki Murakami's books, Man's Search for Meaning, Idiot's Guide's [sic], Fodors travel guides, The Week, NYTimes Style section, WWD."

In Sunday's Times Real Estate section, we met Lauren Daitch and Jules Spehar, who are, respectively, a publicity assistant at Simon & Schuster and a salesgirl. We also met their West Village duplex, for which they pay $3,800. That's right, each of these entry-level laborers pays almost two grand a month in rent. And they want us to believe that they do it all by their own selves. Well, mostly.

That stands for Students Against Destructive Decisions, just so you know. They're a student group at Long Island City's Academy of American Studies, and they've devised a 'hip' way to get their anti-marijuana message across: