My best friend in the world is coming up to San Francisco on Thursday.  I always get anxious when my friends from other cities come and visit; what if they leave and tell everyone how much cooler their town is than San Francisco?  Well, thanks to Trader Joe’s (specifically Two-Buck

I am unfortunately not in NYC right now for the shit ton of snow and to punch people who use the word “snowpocalypse,”  but agree that it looks like father winter was super drunk and got carried away with the whole weather thing. I know for a while I’d be

I haven’t decided if 2010 is a year I’m happy to see go or if I’ll find myself staring wistfully out the window, hoping to see it walk back home and tell me, Baby, I’ve been a fool for leaving you. But I do know I’d like to do 2011

I can never get over how expensive it is to see a movie. This week there are a bunch of special movie events that are either cheaper or more special than your average flick. Mostly because they are all beloved films that happen to scare the bejeezus out of me.

I think the word “rockstar” is grossly overused.  I mean who really wants to be a rockstar anymore anyways.  To me the word conjures images of cocaine problems, lycra bodysuits, eyeliner and whiskey dick.  Or wait, maybe I’m just thinking of David Lee Roth. Anyways, if you do categorize yourself

Mayor Bloomberg says we should stay inside. Which would be a great idea if we had his billions to spend on all the post-holiday online sales. But we don’t. All we’ve got is each other – and the Census Bureau can verify that people tend to multiply nine months after

2010: It’s been, I can boldly say, a year for all of you. What events that unfolded throughout certainly vary per individual but I’m going to assume for most of you, if not all, it involves blush-inducing indiscretions, stolen cop cars driven into the Bay, ventures into the exciting world

Although I will be with my family tomorrow night talking about the baby Jesus and pretending Santa is real for my way-too-old-for-that-shit little brothers, I realize that 1. Not everyone celebrates Christmas, so to many this Saturday is just another Saturday, and 2. Since so many SF-dwellers are transplants, not