Adding a "z" to the end of something immediately makes it cooler, which is why jokes about Zubaz totally kill it. Damn...that was cool. Oh yeah, breasts are pretty sweet too. So get both, at Canz. Finally giving the deprived denizens of Murray Hill the breastaurant they so desperately need, Canz is a sports bar's sports bar (36 flats including a 75-incher in the rear party room) specializing in cans of the very stuff that will make you lust after...cans, which come in the form of waitresses decked in tight jean shorts, tighter tops, and construction boots, so you know they'll be erecting something. The list of metal-bound brews is 100-strong and runs from crafts (Old Chub, Lionshead, Moo Thunder...), to classics (Schlitz tallboys, Stroh's, Schaefer...), to uppers like Joose and Sparks, which is exactly what's flying between you and that tight-shirted waitress, you hooched-up lothario! Those not content with clever names can get into a quintet of vodka-based fishbowls, table kegs, or a number of drafts, which can be easily turned into bombz thanks to a spring-loaded device that'll un-frattily drop a shot into four glasses simultaneously; fortifying all that's pub food including BBQ sirloin burgerz, tater totz, baby back ribz, and, of course, their famous Dirty Canz-a-Citi Wingzzzz, which are "extremely, abnormally hot and non-refundable", making them the mail-order bride of chicken. Of course there'll be special
sz every night, from 2-for-1 Draft Tuesdays, to Live Music Fridays, to Karaoke Wednesdays, your participation in which might lead to a few too many zzzzzzzzs.