In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. For most of my life, while growing up in

Here is something pretty exciting! This is the unseen San Francisco pilot of my TV show Young, Broke & Beautiful. This was the a sizzle reel we made for IFC and it was this that they saw and gave us a green light for.  It’s OBVIOUSLY a bit rougher than the

In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. The Savoy. If you’ve ever wandered up Grant Avenue in North Beach,

As Bay Area inhabitants we have some amazing nature all around us. Tahoe is a few hours North, Big Sur is a few hours South, Yosemite a few hours East and the Pacific Ocean is to the West. Now, I don’t camp. I don’t see the appeal of sleeping on

More and more people these days are freelancing or working for themselves. This also means that more and more people are working from home, which in turn means more and more people are becoming unhygienic shut-ins with diminishing social skills. At first the idea of working form home seems awesome,

Another Pride has come and gone in a year that felt little of celebration.  The fight continues, however, and visibility is the strongest message one can send.  And if there are folk  that knows how to show off the fight with fabulousness and ferocity, they are the babes of the

Well, queerest Broke-Ass Stuart readership, by now we hope that you have fully recovered form what was likely one of the memorable Pride’s to date.  Though there was no overturning of  homophobic laws set against the backdrop of sweeter days, our current era of darkness has ignited flames of hope

Several years ago when I was what could only charitably be termed as a “baby” queer, I had gone to meet some friends for a drink at the carpeted mineshaft that was the former incarnation of the Midnight Sun on Pride Friday.  The Castro was already pulsating with hundreds of