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

San Francisco’s newest beach can be found in the Dogpatch District, in one of our cities oldest industrial coves.  It’s dotted with memorabilia of long past industrial blood, sweat and pollution.  It’s San Francisco’s hottest, newest and totally-not-toxic-anymore, beach! Sandwiched between SF’s beloved brunch spot The Ramp, World War II

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

Ten years ago, when I was just a slightly younger bartender, I was working at Kimo’s up in the Polk and had just recently been hired on as a floater at El Rio, when I was invited to a citywide gay bar mixer held at some guys’ house in the

All bars should be erected in the image of Dogpatch Saloon.  You will find nothing but great bartenders pouring stiff drinks with the occasional sound of live jazz permeating the background air. Dogpatch has a real old school feel to it.  From the worn and dirty checkered floor to the

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.

If you know me, you know I’m famous for coming up with really, really bad ideas.  Like watching the trailer for The Human Centipede alone while eating three-bean chili.  Or going to Hard Knox Cafe for dinner after a 15-mile bike ride in the sweltering heat (which, by San Francisco

Though our much derided neighbour to the south proudly exclaims it from a mountainside for all to see, a schlep through the oxidizing shadows of the Dogpatch reminds us that San Francisco proper was once an industrial city itself. People go back and forth over the trajectory of the neighbourhood’s

With the Art Institute, Academy of Art, and CCA making their homes here, the Bay Area is rife with young ‘œartists,’ the local galleries teeming with amateurish art shows.  (There, I said it. And I’ll warn you now that if you’re already offended, you probably should not read any further.)