Being a Broke Ass – It’s elementary, my dear. Abstinence. From fancy ass parties in the Meatpacking District where a gin and tonic will set you back fourteen bucks. Blue, purple. Blue, purple. Blue, purple. AKA – all you see after a particularly draining day of job hunting on Craigslist. Crocodile

When your wallet looks like this. 1. Craigslist – We all know that Craig can be a creepy mofo, but here’s what: the good ol’ guy has gotten me hooked up more times than I’d like to admit. Since moving to NYC almost five years ago, I’ve scoured Craigslist for

It’s Springtime in San Francisco, which means it’s time to put your phone on silent for a while and step out into our fair city to sing, eat, and play with the wonderful people and programming on offer. Whether in the flesh or on a live stream, the journalists and

Let’s face it. Times are tough. Not a lot of people these days have the extra money to splurge on a facial or a bikini wax. You shouldn’t have to let a sucky economy get in the way of your professional beauty regimen. Lucky for you, there are five thrifty

I’m sick of reading articles with variations on the “10 under $10” theme. When you’re broke (read: down to your last $10), people shouldn’t be telling you to use it for “great deals on rape whistles” or “cute beach finds.” I propose a more useful approach. Here’s how NOT to

I receive about 80 emails a day from deal-discounting sites: VOICE by SF Weekly, Facebook Deals, Scoutmob, LivingSocial, Daily Gourmet, Vegan Cuts, Gilt City, Groupon, and so forth. And I buy them all the time. This didn’t seem like much of a problem to me at first: “I’m going out

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. Wanna be a Broke-Ass of the Week?  Holler at us here and we’ll send you the questionnaire. Our Broke-Ass of the

I’ve been to Credo in the Financial District a total of exactly one time.  As a broke-ass, I’m not in the habit of spending half my monthly rent on a Wednesday night dinner, but I had gotten my hands on a Groupon for Credo, which I only bought because I

Remember those Entertainment Books from back in the day that offered a textbook size worth of sweet deals? I was forced to peddle them to my unsuspecting neighbors for various school and sports team fundraisers, where treasures like “Buy 10 dinners at Olive Garden and get the next one free”,