When my friend and I went to Copenhagen, the glowing red sign for the Museum Erotica became our landmark. Whenever we were lost, we used it to figure out which direction to go. New York’s Museum of Sex hasn’t become a compass for me, but it’s the best place to

Yeah, I know I talk a lot about Madrone, but that’s because it’s my go-to neighborhood bar and they always keep it fresh with the DJs and events. That said, it’s the first Wednesday of the month which for many people means free museum admission, but for those of us

Buy the ticket, take the ride. Just be careful where you sit. If you’re getting on the Night Train be prepared to be “another San Fran passenger between do-gooders and contraband traffickers” because Richie Cunning’s San Francisco has nothing to do with cable cars or Fisherman’s Wharf. It’s a city

I am used to drinking cheap wine.  As a broke ass person, I have developed a taste for the ‘˜young’, the ‘˜unheard of’, ‘˜unwanted’ and ‘˜fell-off-the-back-of-a-truck’ vintages.  So what a religious experience when I get to taste some truly delicious wines, for FREE!  Every Wednesday night from 6-9 pm head

For a special installment of  Humpday Video I bring you Judgement Day’s “Cobra Strike”.  You might remember them from our awesome band interview or from their huge feature in the SF Chronicle. This video is pretty bad ass and because of that you should try to share it with other

My mom told me she had an idea for a Broke Ass post.  Whereas her advice usually consists of the statement ‘œdrink some tea’ (no matter what the problem is), this one was spot-on.  Michael Finney is a reporter for the local ABC7 News.  He’s been the ‘œconsumer watchdog’ there

Oh, It’s-It!  You are one of the last from a different era.  The city that Herb Caen wrote about.  Tonga Room, Laughing Sal, etc.  It’s a class that manages to hang on every year. I guess one of the best things about you, is that you haven’t changed all that much since your

Hanging out at the Rusty Knot is the equivalent of filling your living room with sand, blasting the heat, and making margaritas in the winter; it feels like summer not matter what time of year. I spent most of the summer biking up and down the West Side Highway on