You’ve already heard about how Burning Man made it to the Black Rock Desert, but I left off when the Cacophony Zone Trippers had crossed the line into the zone. The only spectacle we brought with us was the Man in the Ryder truck. We, and the vicissitudes of nature, were the spectacle. So you might wonder how we spent the long weekend with only one major entertainment on the agenda and our universally compromised budgets.

There are grown people in this world who won’t know how to separate colors when washing clothes.  There are people who cannot hand wash dishes without leaving food caked on the edges of plates and glasses. As a broke-ass writer and avid traveler, I started realizing that my domestic skills

Theoretically, you are not supposed to be able to get a Burning Man ticket this late in the game. But are you serious about still getting one? Burning Man tickets sold out within minutes of becoming available. The festival’s brilliant but underutilized Secure Ticket Exchange Program closed in late July.

  Don’t cook “ethnic” food often enough? Get mystified by all the “ethnic” spices listed on your screen when you’re looking for a curry recipe? Ready to step up your Hamburger Helper game? Then these pre-assembled kits are perfect for the average Joe Schmo (uck)! Choose a cooking kit, stocked

How many of us have had brilliant “aha moments” or inhaled inspiration, yet nothing ever comes of it because of lack of cash? What if you were given an extra $1k, $5k, $10k (or more?). Guess what, my fellow procrasti-stoners, if socks made of coffee can raise $204,601, or a

We here at BrokeAssStuart.com like to show love to the people who make cities like San Francisco and New York special. That’s why we’re doing a series called Local Legend of the Week. This is our chance to hip you to some of the strange, brilliant, and unique folks who populate these towns and give them the character that people from around the world have come to love.

Here’s an easy guide cutting your own side-swept bangs.

As I regained awareness of my surroundings (ahem…coming out of a blackout), I realized I was stumbling out of one of the Lower East Side’s ubiquitous filthy houses of debauch. The night had been a resounding failure. No one enjoyed my humor, the opposite sex somehow found me unappealing, and