Once a week we present Broke-Ass Porn.  It’s visually stimulating material for the financially impaired.  If this shit doesn’t get you going, you’re not as broke as you thought: Just like with most things that are illicit and fun, sometimes you have to cross state lines to get the goods.

There’s a lot of reasons to like the Homestead. To begin with it looks like a genuine Victorian saloon replete with velvety wallpaper and an embossed tin ceiling.  While it’s had many different names and incarnations, it’s been a bar continuously since 1902…I think.  In addition to being a cool looking

I love sandwiches to an embarrassing extent. They are compact and deeply satisfying; making a great one requires an understanding of the delicate nature of balance and portion in food. Also, holy jesus, are they delicious. But sandwiches get a bad rap from time to time, especially when people try

“Well, move the damn bus then.” This is the very angry voice of not so visibly-perturbed woman. She’s upset because the Bronx-bound shuttle we are on has been idling for twenty minutes. “This is a 149th Street express bus,” the driver howls into the speaker. “Well, move the damn bus then.” Same

In college, a friend once told me he didn’t like soup.  Fortunately I cut that asshole out of my life, because who wants a friend who doesn’t like soup?  There’s so many different varieties and textures; you can serve it hot or cold; and what the heck do you slurp

Unlike babies in bars, which people frown upon, it is sometimes okay to have dogs in bars. Especially at Luckydog, where dogs are given free rein to sit on the stools, run all around, lick your shoes, whatever. If you’re not a dog owner, this can, at first, be a little

Some may argue that the ‘œtoo much of a good thing’ curse has fallen upon the street food trend in San Francisco. I say meh. There is no such thing as too much good, cheap food, so shut up and eat your delicious adobo/gumbo/creme brulee! In honor of their first

Even if you don’t have a wad of cash in your pocket, who says you can’t enjoy a little window shopping. Fellow Broke-Ass Anna G has already clued us into stress-free sanctity that is Franklin Ave in Greenpoint, and after making a pilgrimage myself, I have to agree with her.