Every week we feature a different person from the community shedding a little light on their life of brokeitude. Who knows, maybe you’ll learn something about the human spirit — probably not.

So I’m broke and don’t have cable (cause you know, I can just watch it online if I really wanted to, I mean…what? [insert mischievous smirk here] ). So I’ve been reading a lot more lately. Well, not just because I don’t have cable, but because I’m actually a freelance

I don’t think anyone loves Dolores Park more than the folks over here at BrokeAssStuart.com. A staple topic since the website’s birth, Stuart continues to eulogize the park about four times a week. Ok fine, really only twice a week. But the point is, with the park’s infinite perks and

Calling All Service Industry Workers (ONLY!): Working behind the bar or out on the floor tended to be a little on the lean side this year. Things have gotten so bad that the city has become a veritable graveyard of boarded up taverns and dusty dining rooms with papered windows.

The sun is doing a strange thing here in San Francisco.  It’s shining.  Brightly.  In July.  I made the mistake of wearing a wife-beater yesterday while searching for Divine Nonchalance and now have a very silly looking sunburn line.  I sometimes forget that I’m actually a ginger kid who’s hair