With the arrival of the New Year I find my thoughts turning contemplative.  These coldest and darkest months of self-reflection often mark a critical juncture in my own personal growth.  Over the years I have been fond of creating New Years Resolutions that form a benchmark, helping me to grow

The San Francisco Vintage Paper Fair comes around every few months, but I’m going to go ahead and say I still had no idea what it was. Vintage Paper? Like old posters? Or like Grandpa’s old letters to Grandma? Or maybe just the soggy brown bags from malt liquors passed?

Since I’ve moved to New York in 2005, this winter has by far been the coldest, windiest, and most blizzard-y one.  Now more than ever I feel myself much less inclined to step outside, especially when the wind sounds like something in Misselthwaite Manor, a la The Secret Garden.  Though,

Dear Sparing Stringer, I am trying to impress a lady friend by taking her on a date. Unfortunately, I am broke and have no prospects of making any money in the near future. How can I show her a good time on the cheap? Any ideas? -Desperate to Impress Dear

Do your genitals explode? Do you have a penis growing on your head?  Does your copulation last 10 weeks? Are you 200,000 times smaller than your mate? Are your sex toys made of leaves and twigs?  Do you drug your lover with a no-cheating potion?  Knowing this audience, I suspect

We here at Broke-Ass Stuart remember a kinder, gentler, funkier time when there was an entire network devoted to playing awesome new music videos. Men named Pinfield and women named Idalis would introduce block after block of original music videos from various genres interspersed with interviews with musicians and video

Yesterday, Stuart tipped you off to free museum admission on the first Tuesday of the month, but we all know that sometimes it’s really hard to impress people by acting like a grown up at an art museum. Lucky for you, you can take your 8-year-old self to a couple

Between shipping out books, shirts and bags, I spend WAY too much time in this particular post office. Considering I started doing zines in 2004, I’ve been coming here roughly once a week or so for about five years. And all I’ve gotten for my trouble is a lowered general moral and a lot of time standing in line. I’ve given this place some of my best years. What follows is the 3 reasons why I hate this place so much.