Stuart Schuffman, aka Broke-Ass Stuart

Straight shooter

THE WEEKNIGHTER Hunting big game at Bloodhound

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culture@sfbg.com

THE WEEKNIGHTER I've never been hunting and I've only shot a gun on one occasion. OK, it was multiple guns on the same occasion in a shooting range in San Diego, but still I've only shot at things once in my life. I guess I did a good job of killing the piece of paper I was shooting at since my friend Josh told me I had good aim for a beginner. It was pretty easy considering the target just hung there and took the abuse.Read more »

Hands off

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

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"Titties and fried chicken"

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

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culture@sfbg.com

THE WEEKNIGHTER "Come on Stuart. Titties and fried chicken. How can you, of all people, say no?"

They were cajoling me via Twitter. There's probably some hip slang for that, twijoling maybe, but I don't know what it is. Regardless, Mik, Ed, Dottie, and Cait were really giving it to me. And of course I caved. Willpower isn't one of my powers. Plus, Mik was visiting from New York and I'd been meaning to go for so long anyway.Read more »

Feasting on flacks

THE WEEKNIGHTER Scarfing seafood fusion and calling bluffs at Chaya.

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culture@sfbg.com

THE WEEKNIGHTER Sometimes it happens. PR companies take me out, feed me, and get me boozed up. All with the hope that I will write about the place that's feeding/boozing me. Sometimes I write about the place, sometimes I don't. I make no promises other than I promise to consume the food and booze that's put in front of me. I imagine I've had worse lifetimes, but I wouldn't know.Read more »

Salvation

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

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culture@sfbg.com

THE WEEKNIGHTER How is it already eight years ago that Nick and I were eating pupusas at Balompie Café (3349 18th Mission, SF. 415-648-9199)? It was the beginning of the World Cup in 2006. At least I think it was. It's hard to remember this far out, but there was soccer on and excitement was in the air about a sport that, most of the time, Americans don't give a shit about.Read more »

Wizard of brews

THE WEEKNIGHTER Finding magical fulfillment at Magnolia Dogpatch and Smokestack

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culture@sfbg.com

THE WEEKNIGHTER I was hanging out with Steve Jones. I'm pretty sure it was the first time just the two of us were kicking it, even though I'd known him for years and he'd been my editor at SFBG for at least six months. There was supposed to be some kind of Mixmaster Mike event at a loft in the Dogpatch, and when we arrived, there was nothing. So we did the next best thing. We got some drinks.Read more »

Sixth at the Syc

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

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Call the Pope

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culture@sfbg.com

THE WEEKNIGHTER It's a funny thing to be filling out a job application and have to put your previous employer as Tony the Pope. But that's the name I know him by, and truthfully, I don't wanna know his real last name, anyways. I prefer to have at least a little bit of mystery in my life.Read more »

Starred, Striped

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

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Sailing through

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

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