I’m independent and I don’t own a car. If you’re a traveler like me, then you probably try to exhaust all resources before renting a car becomes an option. I find that you can sightsee more when you’re not worried about driving on a winding road along treacherous sea-hugging cliffs. I’m always

Before finally giving in and reluctantly surrendering my greenbacks to a truck called Bacon Bacon – that was recently parked outside the F*ck Your New Year’s Resolution Party – it was obvious that people have always had a strong affection for bacon. Why else would they have molded phraseology around what now describes the person

As 2024 winds down, we’re reflecting on another incredible year of sharing the stories, art, culture, and nightlife that make the Bay Area so unique. BrokeAssStuart.com wouldn’t be what it is without you—our community of readers, supporters, and believers in independent media. This year, instead of asking you to join Patreon

Our outdoor ceremony was 15-minutes: my mom walked me down the aisle and gave me away because my dad sucks balls, rings exchanged, vows exchanged (I left vows upstairs and was forced to wing it), some bawling, Iron & Wine “Lion’s Mane”, two renditions of Erik Satie’s “Gymnopedia No. 1”,

Everyone kept telling us that it wasn’t going to happen for under $10,000. But, I knew damn well that there was a wedding venue for under $1,000 in Northern California. Turns out, I was right. I love being right. We looked at an insurmountable amount of possibilities for a wedding

“Your wedding is in Vallejo, on a Sunday, and in November? Aren’t you afraid of gun shots, work schedules, cold and rain?” In order to abide by the rules of a broke-ass wedding, throw away any ideas of what you want your wedding to be like. Because in California, the

Before leaving on my trip to Montreal, I did endless research and read countless reviews about the region’s signature dish…poutine. That deliciously unapologetic hearty dish of french fries, cheese curds and gravy. And through multiple lists, there was one place that was continuously listed (which turned out to be horrible)

    While we stumbled off the Via from Montreal into Quebec City at 10pm on a Saturday night, no research had been made and therefore we had absolutely no idea where we were or what was around. We became victims to the tourist traps and hawkers of the Grand

The first time I traveled abroad I was determined not to consume anything remotely related to what I ate back home and not to spend over $10. There was no point and nothing to learn from not stepping out of your comfort zone and forced to speak a language you