Home Stuart Schuffman, aka Broke-Ass Stuart

Stuart Schuffman, aka Broke-Ass Stuart

Drifting by

THE WEEKNIGHTER Taking it all in over cocktails at Driftwood

Straight shooter

THE WEEKNIGHTER Hunting big game -- and primo cocktails -- at Bloodhound

Hands off

THE WEEKNIGHTER: In which Stuart laments creepy dudes, and defends his girlfriend from 'rapey hands.'

“Titties and fried chicken”

THE WEEKNIGHTER/SEX ISSUE In which Stuart succumbs to the lure of cheap buffets and plentiful boobs.

Feasting on flacks

THE WEEKNIGHTER Scarfing seafood fusion and calling bluffs at Chaya.


THE WEEKNIGHTER Papusas save the day (and the hangover) at Balompie Cafe.

Wizard of brews

THE WEEKNIGHTER Finding magical fulfillment at Magnolia Dogpatch and Smokestack

Sixth at the Syc

THE WEEKNIGHTER Contemplating change -- and not-change -- with High Lifes at the Sycamore 

Call the Pope

culture@sfbg.comTHE WEEKNIGHTER It's a funny thing to be filling out a job application and have to put your previous employer as Tony the Pope....

Starred, Striped

THE WEEKNIGHTER:  Dave's -- the good ol' melting pot of cheap cocktails

Sailing through

THE WEEKNIGHTER: Beer (and some surprising neighborhood feeling) flows freely at Southern Pacific Brewing.

Foaming at the mouth

THE WEEKNIGHTER: Mad Dog is used to having stark, raving lunatics, in colorful garb, wasted there in the middle of the day. Thankfully.

I want to believe

THE WEEKNIGHTER "Forecast for Tonight: Alcohol. Low Standards and Bad Decisions."

The mayor of tiki

THE WEEKNIGHTER: Laughing with strangers -- and trying not to black out -- at Trad'r Sam

The warm-up

THE WEEKNIGHTER: Fanning hometown flames at Fireside Bar

On the hoof

THE WEEKNIGHTER: How many people can you fit in the Black Horse Pub? (We're serious.)

Who moved my cheese?

THE WEEKNIGHTER: Roar and whimper, Lion Pub's seen plenty of change

Fogged in

THE WEEKNIGHTER Brave summer souls take to Jones' expansive patio

Secret passages

THE WEEKNIGHTER Through the back door at Bourbon & Branch

The 8 things that made BottleRock, well, BottleRock

I am surrounded by people with purple teeth, stained from too much red wine. These people are twisted beyond belief, screaming obscenities about forgotten...

No web jukes

THE WEEKNIGHTER Exploring limits at quintessential Castro neighborhood bar Last Call

Missing Indie Mart

THE WEEKNIGHTER Indie rock, whimsy and tasty bahn mi at Thee Parkside. 

The Philosophy of Drunk

THE WEEKNIGHTER Searching for meaning in the bottom of a pint glass at the Philosopher's Club.

Out of focus

THE WEEKNIGHTER Diving down into cheap drink bliss at Mission Bar