We got the news today that longtime San Francisco resident, Oscar the Grouch, has been evicted from his rent controlled San Francisco trashcan. Last week Mr. the Grouch came home to find an eviction notice on his trashcan lid. His landlord, David McCloskey (the man who famously tried to evict

Ah, aging. Getting old hits some harder than others. Some mellow out, some get 17 cats and some just go straight crazy. Diving headfirst into the aging process is NO reason for one to stop being a belligerent, loud, shit show. I mean, one only needs to look at Oakland’s

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

It was in January 2016 that I alerted readers that Roy Choi and Daniel Patterson were in the makings of opening a Locol in the old Plum brick and mortar in Oakland. We waited…and waited. And we hadn’t heard not a fucking whisper about it ever again.

We live in stressful times. We also live in a stressful place. Sometimes, you need to go where your brain can turn off and do what it really wants to do: hum Radiohead songs. This is your list of places in the near-ish vicinity that are some combination of beautiful,

I have been falling back on these three Bay Area tours when guest strike for years, and they have always gotten positive reviews.

For people sleeping on the streets, having no real shelter and trying to battle exposure to the elements, every night is a constant battle to survive. Many of these people can’t afford to wait months on end for a city to scout new shelter locations, vote on new laws, hire

I approach a nondescript looking building in east Oakland. “What an unassuming place to draw some boobs at.” I thought

  At the beginning of Animal Collective there were two of them – Avey Tare and Panda Bear – banging drums and tweaking synths in their bedrooms, singing strange and sometimes heartbreaking songs about imaginary friends and childhood pets. Carried along by washes of squalling feedback, the music was noisy,