Last night I had a dream that involved a motorcycle; a swimming pool; a drunk, cheating, and grandpa-aged boyfriend; my grade school; a police chase; a lesbian encounter; and someone else’s severed body parts. Yes, I frequently have dreams just as non sequitur, and yes, I’m totally messed up, and

San Francisco has been the birthplace of many an iconic brand over the years, from Levi’s to Rice-a-Roni to the It’s-It. Among this pantheon of venerable marketing greats you will surely find a smiling lad astride an aerodynamic elote that goes by the name of Jimmy the Cornman. For some of you out

I’ve got some awesome news! We received a grant from the Civic Joy Fund to put out a literary magazine celebrating SF and acting to counter the stupid “Doom Loop” narrative. It’s a gift to the people of San Francisco. And after months of working on this project it’s now available

When I was 23, someone tried to sell me a grave plot, for myself. He told me that I could get such a great deal and that it wouldn’t burden my family if I bought it when I was young etc. WHOA! It didn’t truly occur to me, until that moment, that one day, I was going to die.