This time last week, I went to Frankenart Mart for the first time and (just as importantly) my first free hot dog in our fair city. Sausages abound in San Francisco, if you know where to look, but the good old-fashioned flaccid, terracotta-hued wieners? A little harder to come across.

Oh Dirty Trix, with your whiskey breath and red lipstick, how you hold a special place in my heart. That was my not so clever attempt at conveying Dirty Trix as an ever so classy lady. Anyhow, this place is great. What you should notice initially is the great group

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

It seems like everybody’s got a gimmick these days. Crocodile Lounge gives away personal-size pizzas. Hot dogs come with your hooch at Rudy’s Bar & Grill. And Burp Castle is home to free frites. Not to be outdone, The Irish Exit – in what is perhaps the most incompatible complimentary

Oh, broke-ass darlings, Happy New Year! I imagine, and I don’t think that I’m that far off, that you are all currently missing some integral brain cells courtesy of the 2010 send-off, and while you are re-cooperating, you’d like things short and sweet. Me too. Typing is hard. Let me