On March 16th in West Portal, 78-year-old Mary Fong Lau sped east up Ulloa Street.  Her SUV barrelled past Wawona towards Lenox Way, where a family of four stood waiting for a bus to the zoo. She crossed the painted yellow lines and train tracks embedded in the road and

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

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

We knew that the early March old-school telethon for The Oasis, the beloved SoMa drag night club, has surpassed its fundraising goal. But now BrokeAssStuart.com can confirm that the Oasis is definitely not going anywhere, as the club sent a Monday afternoon email confirming that the club will indeed be

By Nicholas Palmer You can buy a lot of things with millions of dollars, but no amount of money can replace magic that’s discovered, fought for, bled over and perfected inside the padded walls of a music rehearsal space. What Lennon Studios has been to local maestros of pitch and

This weekend is the 15-year anniversary of the closing of Hamburger Mary’s, the trailblazing gay burger joint since that had been a SoMa icon since 1972. So we tracked down one of the last original Hamburger Mary’s owners to find some fascinating artifacts and get the Grade-A, all-beef history of

Hey pervs!  Heralding the hotter days to come with hos, hard-ons and harnesses, the 30th Annual Up Your Alley Street Fair busted through SoMa like a well-lubed fist.  Perhaps because it was an milestone year, this year’s festivities felt more the raunch rodeos of yore than Dore’s of recent memory.

Well queers, we are already mid-week of this year’s rainbow tour and about knee deep in plenty of gay-ass shit to do. If you are, by chance looking for something to do on the way to the Milk Club and 48 Hills joint happy hour (because you would never miss

Ah, the hanky: Our community’s polychromatic tradition of flagging the way we like to fuck. Being a perv and a nerd, I’m obviously a fan, with it’s origins supposedly going back in the mists of time to square dances full of randy forty-niners and wayward sailors out for a hot