Ok I know, I know I know. I went into the Azealia Banks piece by PAPER MAG rolling my eyes, but I came out of it ALSO rolling my eyes… while also becoming a bit more enlightened. Bear with me. [BREATHE IN.] She’s so right in that men in the

Let’s party. Hi! How you doin? Rough week, huh? I totally get it. This too shall pass, even if you feel like it won’t. People do this every day. Let’s help each other out, and get through this together. First and foremost, take a deep breath and drink water as

I’ve got some awesome news! We received a grant from the Civic Joy Fund to put out a literary magazine celebrating SF and acting to counter the stupid “Doom Loop” narrative. It’s a gift to the people of San Francisco. And after months of working on this project it’s now available

The Infamous Arrow Bar (Image taken from Yelp) I lived in San Francisco back when I used to puke a lot. And pee in alleys. Be it, cuz I was drunk, or high – my glory days – I would find myself in front of the Arrow Bar with some

Shhh. Stop whining. Let’s all eat burritos on a beach, together. “Blah blah blah, TRAFFIC, blah blah blah SUPERFICIALITY! REALITY SHOW REJECTS!” is what I constantly hear from San Francisco citizens about my current residency in LA. “Yackity shmackity, ZILLIONAIRE TECH ASSHOLES! PRICE OF RENT!” is what I hear about

We’ve all been there, dude. You’re happily single, watching True Detective from a stolen source of cable, pretending the chicken in your fridge is still ok to eat, Peter Panning your way through life on a meager salary, when, BAMM! The perfect person comes along, and you’re screwed (literally and

*I’m talking to myself, too. Aloha, ladies and gentlemen. It’s been a while, I know, omg whatever, but I’m still in LA and it’s almost been a whole year – a thought that has this kind of effect on me where I’m like “Trippy, man” but also “Not-so-trippy, man” because everything

If this doesn’t convince you, then IDK. I’m fucking broke, man. I’m broke. And Groupon/Lifebooker/whatever discount website is trendy right now, is not REALLY an app or a website, it is an addiction. In the perpetual quest for Patrick Bateman-style physical perfection that is this Hollywood life, I find myself

Hey. Are you ok? Shitty week, right. To say the least. Are you feeling anxious? Did you have a friend at the Boston Marathon? Perhaps, a friend of a friend is faculty or a student at MIT? Did you know someone who knows someone who was a victim of the