A few weekends ago, I briefly forgot what vegetables were. My bf and I trekked up to Rochester to visit some friends. Sure, they took us to a public market with stands full of fresh tomatoes, spinach, peppers, apples, etc, but that didn’t match our “when in Rome” philosophy of

Every time I’ve watched an Austin Powers movie, I’ve thought that I’d like to rig my boobs to shoot bullets like the fembots (but with the ability to switch back to regular boobs sometimes). I know this is impossible, as they are robots and I’m not interested in becoming a

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

Going out to dinner with a big group is always fun, until the check comes. Then, it turns into a cluster fuck of confusion while people try to figure out how much they owe, how much they should tip, etc. And then you get pissed when you have to pay

I immediately start singing the Tool song Intolerance in my head when I hear the words, “Lie, cheat, and steal” together, because Tool is permanently lodged in my subconscious after listening to them a lot in high school. In general, I’m not a liar, cheater (except at board games) or

While growing up in The Bronx, my friend’s dad used to build rocket ships to launch off of buildings. And he used hamsters as pilots. While I will remain silent on my opinion of hamster misuse in the situation, I will say that my friend’s dad is now a physicist

I was focusing more on the waitstaff turning out the lights and yelling when they brought out my birthday cake, so it took me a minute to notice that a customer from another table had stood up, taken off his shirt, and started running back and forth in the restaurant’s

Last time I wrote about Death by Audio, there was a giant maze taking over the entire space. Tomorrow night, they’re letting you cover 15 naked women in chicken feathers while two dudes play 17 drums in a performance described as “post-feminist avant garde historical reenactment meets squirrel-infused eletro-noise tribe.”

Right now, it’s hard not to want a shot of something if you stop to think about the economy. Especially if you’re unemployed (or under employed) and you’ve can only afford tall boys of King Cobra with your liquor budget. The Delancy has your back. Every Monday is “Laid off