When I was younger, my mom really loved fruit punch.  Everywhere we went — soccer games, my middle school orchestra concerts, Applebee’s — there my mom would be with her plastic to-go cups bought in bulk from Costco (née Price Club) filled with extremely pungent, blood-red juice. OR SO I

The Friday Nights at the de Young series, in which the museum stays open until 8:45pm and features tons of FREE activities, including films, music and DIY crafts, has always been a popular, classy way to kick off the weekend.  But at tonight’s edition, “Folk You!” sponsored by the SF

Step into a world of adventure with the San Francisco Beer Passport. There’s no better way to explore San Francisco than to literally drink it in. This passport is amazing! Each one contains 27 coupons to buy one beer, get a second beer FREE at 27 of the finest locally

I have a strong premonition that you’ll be feeling the effects of St. Patrick’s Day Shitshow 2010 on Thursday morning while you’re getting ready for work, avoiding your ghastly reflection in the mirror at all costs and wondering what you should be more ashamed of:  the dangerously irresponsible amount of

So you want some new friends.  Maybe you don’t have any yet because you just moved to the city.  Maybe you recently broke up with your girlfriend, who turned everyone you know against you (whore).  Or maybe you’re just kind of sick of the friends you’ve already got.  I mean,

I feel like it was fated, like I was meant to post about Saturday’s Writers With Drinks at The Make-Out Room.  Why?  Because a few weeks ago, after deciding I was too bored at the gym to work out for more than five minutes without stimulation that did not involve

Sure, I spend a lot of time writing about food, my feelings and the dog from my favorite commercial ever, but buried deep in the recesses of my brain, there’s a bestseller brewing.  I can feel it.  A real page-turner about a sassy, twenty-something broke-ass who works in cafes all

I talk about Goat Hill Pizza all the time and I’m always surprised that not more people know about it.  Or maybe they’ve heard of it, but have never been.  Or maybe it’s just that most people I know are normal, not insatiable, raging fat-asses like me.  But gluttony is

Um.  There will be beef jerky here. If, for some inconceivable reason, you need more convincing than that to go to the third installment of the SF Underground Farmers Market on Saturday night, how ’bout I  add pulled pork, fried chicken and andouille sausage gumbo, foccacia, homemade fresh ginger beer, Hawaiian baked