Now that winter has fully jammed its icy, icy dildo into our’ well, you know what I mean: it’s fucking cold out there (pun intended) and changes in behavior are unavoidable. Namely, I don’t want to go outside. Not even for food. Luckily, we live in New York City’”a city

Now, it doesn’t take an economist to discover that housing is barely affordable for people with “fill in the blank” situations (certain jobs, students, broke asses, etc.), especially those who live in cities with extremely high costs of living.

Did you know that “very low” income for one person living in San Francisco is $39,600?

One of the only things I enjoy about winter, is the excuse it gives me not to leave my house. Plans will be broken, food delivered to my door, and wearing sweatpants is considered the norm. During summer, I eschew my Netflix account for frolicking outside, but come January I

Like everyone else, I pretty much ate my weight in carbs this past holiday weekend, so naturally I’m looking to drop my phantom baby weight in the new year. But you know what, gym membership inflation is right up there with college tuition and I don’t have an extra $60

Having a difficult conversation about finances is a coming out of sorts. When I dated a woman for the first time I was totally closeted. The amount of energy it took to keep that secret was enormous. I made up horrible stories in my head about how my friends and family would react to me having a girlfriend. After talking about it, I remember saying, “that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” which is exactly what clients say about having the difficult conversation.

Aside from the words “FINAL NOTICE”, “EVICTION NOTICE” and “CLOSED BY HEALTH INSPECTOR” there are few messages that strike fear into the heart of a Broke-Ass quite like seeing that sinister-looking exclamation point on your iPod or that wallpaper striped pattern on your iBook that means your logic board is

‘œWhy tip someone for a job I’m capable of doing myself? I can deliver food. I can drive a taxi. I can, and do, cut my own hair. I did however, tip my urologist, because I am unable to pulverize my own kidney stones.’ – Advice from Dwight Schrute, The

…okay, is, more often than not, just some crap he didn’t want anymore. But we’ve probably all, at some point in our lives, saved an object from a destiny at the dumps, whether it be furniture off the sidewalk or that 1988 Fleer Kirby Puckett card my friend Jacob was