It is winter. February, in fact.  And not the good, magical, snowy kind of February… this is the dreary, monotonous, get-out-of-bed-and-look-outside-and-then-want-to-punch-yourself-in-the-face-it’s-so-grey-dismal-and-useless kind.  Adding insult to injury, next month is March. And March, as you know, sucks. Have I depressed you? Or are you, just like everyone else, already super-duper depressed

It’s always good to make sure you’re prepared in a city like San Francisco, because you never really know what’s going to happen at any given moment. I put together this check list for all you cum dumpsters to make sure you’re ready when shit hits the fan: 1. Jacket

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

Well! Spring is only about 72 days or something like that away, and for those of us mired in the freezing misery of the East Coast, looking forward to springtime and the clothes and accessories that come with it-are one of the few things that make wintertime bearable at all.

Shopping at thrift stores is like playing the lottery. It can be extremely rewarding, but more often than not is just very frustrating and disappointing. Oh, look at that awesome shirt! What size is it? Damn, missed it by one number! I could have been style-rich! The odds in the

I would not literally fuck a pair of Nikes. Unless maybe they were dipped in gold. But it’d have to be 24k gold. You know, soft enough to not crack your dick in half.

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.

It’s hot out, y’all, and beautiful.  On the streets of NYC folks are shedding layers like snakes on a rock, caterpillars emerging from their cocoons into  butterflies, or beefy, red-faced roadies peeling off their flannel outer layers to reveal the sweaty, fetid Queensryche shirt beneath.  It’s time to show those