This column is in the spirit of a “Dear Abby”, with a focus on solutions in the form of micro SF neighborhood deep dives and curated holistic health-centered itineraries By Vanessa Hutchinson-Szekely Dear BBB, Put a fork in me!!! My pandemic partner broke up by texting a series of sappy
Shortly before two o’clock last Friday, Waymo announced its autonomous vehicles now have license to kill. “We’re very excited for this innovative new technology to hit the streets,” said California Public Utilities Commission representative Sarah Desk, “and some people.” Cal-PUC granted Waymo a Pilotless Permit pearlier this month, marking any
I get that this is the cost of doing business, but the flip side is that nearly all media, from music to writing to photography, is now expected to be free. The traditional business model has failed, and the only sustainable one going forward is for readers to support the publications they love and rely on.
I know a lot of folks wanted a copy of my new zine Slouching Towards Neverland, but couldn’t afford to join Patreon for $10 a month. So I promised that I’d release a general public version, and that’s just what I’ve done! Grab Your Copy Right Here Here’s a quick
The Pope of Trash is back for Christmas lunacy throbbing in his veins. Cockeyed. Rabid. Ready to reinfect the lunatic fringe with holiday jeer.
Last night there was a party. A party of freaks, geeks, and artists. A dance floor full of burlesque dancers, bartenders, and buskers. A crowd of cacophonists, comedians, cooks, clowns, caterers, and commies. Politicians, perverts, queers, teachers, writers, progressives, punks and every kind of beautiful San Franciscan one could hope
While friends in both cities asked why I planned to return, they asked the same question two different ways. Portland asked with the doubt of a dysfunctional parent, one who knows the answer and resents it. “It’s so expensive there. Isn’t that why you left in the first place?” I
Chicago stubbornly calls their landmark skyscraper Sears Tower, rejecting the Willis name. In Kansas City where I grew up, it’ll always be Sandstone Amphitheater. No matter where you’re from, you no doubt know somewhere/something special that now goes by a shittier name. San Francisco has plenty. For instance, in an