Ever walk around your city, looking up at apartment buildings with all those lives piled one on top of the other and wonder, “How the hell am I lonely?”  When I first moved to New York eight years ago, it was a pretty regular occurrence for me. Since then, I’ve

You’ve seen a French movie, right? You know how the ludicrously attractive, ethereal girl will talk about stuff with the swarthy guy over coffee? They’ll be musing about love, life, or whatever with their pretty lips while even-tempo jazz and the clinks of coffee cups happen in the background? And

As 2024 winds down, we’re reflecting on another incredible year of sharing the stories, art, culture, and nightlife that make the Bay Area so unique. BrokeAssStuart.com wouldn’t be what it is without you—our community of readers, supporters, and believers in independent media. This year, instead of asking you to join Patreon

One does work in midtown. One does touristy things in midtown. One can anticipate the largest and dumbest waste of time, space, and money ever to have been dreamed up since the days of the French aristocracy in midtown.  And now you can do one stop meal shopping in midtown

Hypothetical:  You’re in a Wednesday night adult softball league that plays on the fields at Chestnut and Laguna in the Marina.  Said team plays (and inevitably loses) game.  You are angry, but mostly because you didn’t eat before you came and you’re pretty ravenous.  Where do you go? If you’re

I’ve been flying Virgin America a lot lately.  It flies directly to most of the place I have to go (San Diego, LA, NY) and it’s as cheap as any of the other airlines.  Seriously, why the fuck would I spend a 5.5 hour trip to NY on a janky-ass

A couple weeks ago I had an amazing experience — I got to go to a Sufjan Stevens show at The Paramount Theatre in Oakland.  While I wish he would have played, say, at the Fox due to his new album’s funky, dance-y nature and the Fox’s spacious general admission area,

All You Can Eat. Those words bring up a lot of connotations, not all of them good. For some, they’re a challenge. For others, they mean a dump truck’s worth of mediocre food. For others still, they induce Vegas flashbacks. Well, my weary gamblers and skeptics, I come armed with

Walk into a Barnes and Noble and what do you smell? Cheap wood, burnt coffee, and the embossed plastic off the newest Dan Brown hardcover. Hardly a festival for the senses, in my humble opinion, no matter what deals they may have on the oeuvre of Carl Hiaasen. For my