Ahoy, ye limey wenches! Today be International Talk Like a Pirate Day. If ye be livin’ ‘neath a rock fer the past decade or so, this annual holiday be a jolly excuse not only to talk like a pirate but also to dress and act like a pirate. But avast,

Last week on “Your Home Bar,” we outlined your basic liquor necessities to begin mixin’ drinks at home like a pro. So by now, you’re probably staring blankly at your bottles of Rumple Minze, Baileys, and Everclear, wondering, “What on earth do I do now?” Two options: 1) SHOTS (what

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

I’m shocked no one has talked about this yet, but it’s high time we discussed drinking at home in more depth. Getting hammered in bars is all well and good, especially if you can get someone else to buy your drinks. But then you always end up owing somebody something.

Brazil has more to offer than gorgeous mulatto bodies during Carnaval. youPIX, a Brazilian festival of Internet culture, is stopping at Barrel House in SF tonight for a short, FREE vacation into the Brazilian Intertron. Apparently, Brazilian Internet users are among the most active and influential in the world, and

I don’t like to toot my own horn, but I’m a little bit of a DIY maven—not as much in the way of crafting as in salon services, home decor, and bicycle maintenance. This means I’ve tried enough crap myself to know when it’s not worth it or even just

I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a while, mainly because I can’t afford it. The other day, I decided I should eat some food. I make a habit of keeping a lot of ingredients that won’t go bad on hand: dry beans, veggie broth powder, uncooked rice. I also looked through

Do any of you guys remember a song called “Whistle While You Twurk”? I think it dropped when I was in middle school in the late ’90s, and a more, shall we say, “experienced” friend informed me that the strange neologism meant a certain sexual act I was definitely not

During my stint as an unemployed person, I, perhaps stupidly, signed up for Netflix after years of holding out. I was an old-school Netflix user, back when the company’s offerings were strictly limited to DVDs by mail. But in my shrewd poverty, I chose to eliminate that service when I