Watery yellow light bathed the stone walls and a crowd of punks of the Varsity Theater on Saturday at the second annual Pissfest, creating the feeling of being at the bottom of a toilet bowl.

The self-identified indie bratpunk trio VIAL, hosts of Pissfest, mercifully spared attendees from an olfactory experience but still made the Varsity feel like the grungy punk shows of the past.

A stacked line-up of local favorites and out-of-towners made up the thrash-filled night, interspersed with electrifying drag lip-sync performances by Kenty Poussé Fatale.

“We had a great turnout last year and an even better turnout this year,” said VIAL drummer Katie Fischer. VIAL’s inaugural Pissfest was a single release party for their cover of Nirvana’s “Territorial Pissings” which sold out 7th Street Entry.

University of Minnesota’s own Dial Tone warmed the crowd up with a no-surprises set, concluding with a straightforward cover of “Let’s Go Crazy” by Prince.

Then DIY darling Anita Velveeta showed another side of the Minneapolis sound through screams, crowd surfing and summoning circle pits.

“Wow, there’s a lot of people here!” she said upon taking the stage. 

Shouts of “I love you!” rang out from the heart of the pit throughout her set.

Once VIAL and I heard the beginning notes of her final song, “TERFS WILL NOT GET INTO HEAVEN,” rumble above us from their basement dressing room, we pressed pause on our interview to go upstairs and mosh.

Fischer, who uses she/they pronouns, said news of how exciting Pissfest’s first year was quickly spread through the Minneapolis punk scene via word of mouth, and that they’ve even gotten requests to bring Pissfest on the road.

“The future is bright for Pissfest,” she said. Bright yellow.

Last year’s visiting act, Modern Nun, came up the Interstate-94 from Chicago. This year, VIAL’s guests came from even farther east.

Destructo Disk, a three-person punk outfit from Richmond, Virginia, came on after Velveeta’s set and Fatale’s rousing performance of Chappell Roan’s “Pink Pony Club.”

The trio had been supporting VIAL on a Texas tour for the past week before making their pilgrimage to Dinkytown, affectionately referred to by their lead vocalist Gideon Kupka as “Dinkle Town” and “Dinkleburg.”

Destructo Disk brought a hardcore sound with fast, frenetic strumming and throaty screaming with a classic punk flavor.

“All dogs go to heaven and all cops go to hell!” begins the fan favorite “Cops/Dogs.”

Kupka jumped, stomped and prowled across the stage throughout the set, long hair with bleached tendrils evoking the grunge idols that inspired Pissfest.

“I Wish I Was A Riot Grrl” was also received well. After all, what’s a queer punk show without some gender mischief?

New York City-based queer punk band Sorry Mom returned to the Twin Cities, reuniting with Velveeta after sharing the stage with her this September at The Whole Music Club.

The band were naturals in the larger Varsity venue and very much leaned into the piss theme.

Sorry Mom’s lead vocalist Juno Moreno got sprayed with “piss” (water with yellow food coloring) on stage, and started the famed “piss chant” that VIAL mentioned to me earlier.

Moreno’s scratchy screaming was reminiscent of a two-year-old’s tantrum, adding to the youthful anger and playfulness of the band’s sound.

Time away on tour also allowed Moreno to refine the location-specific, spoken-word lyrics of fan favorite “I Fcked Yr Mom.”

“I saw your mom in the Twin Cities. I thought, ‘Now there’s another pair of twins I’d like to get to know,’” Moreno said slyly, grabbing the air’s invisible breasts.

VIAL’s set concluded the night, fronted by guitarist and vocalist KT Branscom along with bassist and vocalist Taylor Kraemer, dressed to the nines in femme-forward gothic outfits that channeled The Hex Girls (or rather, The Hex Theys).

The trio played mostly tracks from their newest EP, “Grow the F-ck Up,” which came out on Nov. 29. 

Identifying as bratpunk as well as indie punk rock, their sound draws inspiration from contemporary indie rock as well as riot grrl and grunge.

Speaking of, it was only right for the band to play the song that started it all, their cover of “Territorial Pissings” by Nirvana.

Kupka of Destructo Disk joined VIAL onstage on vocals, emulating Kurt Cobain’s original, roughly melodic vocals.

Cobain wrote the song as a critique of racism and misogyny, centering around the idea of men marking women and people of color as their territory.

It’s fitting for a non-male band to cover a song featuring the lyrics “Never met a wise man / If so, it’s a woman.” Kupka singing those words rang out as a declaration of solidarity and community. 

Though Pissfest was their first meeting, Kupka and the members of VIAL thrashed together on stage with the energy of old friends.

Kraemer said community is the biggest thing VIAL wants people to take away from Pissfest.

VIAL’s commitment to the community goes beyond playing music, too. Twin Cities Trans Mutual Aid set up a table near the merch tables, offering pay-what-you-can patches and pins, free Narcan and information about community events.

“We’re big fans of what they do for our community, so we thought, ‘What better place to help promote what they do than Pissfest, where so many queer and trans people are congregating,’” Branscom said.

Ultimately, Pissfest is the Twin Cities punk scene’s communion at the bottom of a toilet bowl, a space created to embrace our filth together.

Twin Cities-based theatre company Weird In Public Productions struck gold when they combined the drama of situationships with the looseness of cabaret in their latest show, “What Are We?: A Situationship Cabaret.”

Tuesday night’s show at The Hive Collaborative in St. Paul brought together an intergenerational audience, most of whom were intimately familiar with the limbo that is a situationship, for a night of comedic catharsis. 

“If you’ve ever been in a relationship that took more than 10 letters to describe, you were in a situationship,” Brigit van Gemeren, the show’s producer and emcee, said at the beginning of the show.

Van Gemeren brought charisma, energy and edge to the cabaret, encouraging audience members to laugh at themselves while also forgiving themselves for past mistakes.

“Everyone has their own experiences with unrealized romance,” van Gemeren said in an interview.

Making a cabaret about situationships was a clear choice, according to the show’s creative team of van Gemeren, music director Emily Hensley and performer Margaux Daniel.

“When a romantic non-relationship fails, pretty much all you have left to do is make a playlist about it,” van Gemeren said.

In the spirit of collaboration, Hensley asked the show’s performers to pick songs that resonated with their experiences with romantic confusion, no matter its popularity or style.

The result was a medley of musical and mainstream numbers, and although pitchy and shy in some spots, were highly personal and highly relatable.

Hensley did stage the opening and closing ensembles of “Bad Idea” from the musical “Waitress” and “The Only Exception,” by Paramore.

For “Bad Idea,” each performer held a framed photo of their “situationship,” an idea that was a bit confusing to watch play out. At first glance, it seemed like the performers were reading the song’s score off of the frames.

A key facet of cabaret is its loose narrative structure and inherent informality, which “What Are We?” conveyed with plenty of comedic skits and audience participation.

It wasn’t the kind that fills an audience with dread, however. Van Gemeren, Daniel and Hensley helped the audience comfortably commiserate with each other by relating their own experiences with situationships with laughter and song.

Before the show even began, visitors were asked to write their situationship stories on slips of paper, which van Gemeren read out later in the show.

She, Daniel and Hensley then invited the stories’ authors onstage to beat a pirate ship pinata labeled “The Situationship” with a stick.

Then the performers led the audience in a cathartic chorus of “Casual” by Chappell Roan.

Another highlight of the show was when Daniel named various situationship dynamics and people who had been in them raised their hands and got Weird In Public stickers.

Many people got more than two or three.

The collaborative spirit of “What Are We?” made it the perfect fit for The Hive.

Opened only a year ago by musical theatre veterans Eric Morris and Laura Rudolph Morris, The Hive is a cozy, independent space where artists of all disciplines can rent out for whatever they’d like.

“Inspired by nature’s ultimate collaborators, the humble bee, The Hive Collaborative strives to be an open, inviting and accessible space for artists of all disciplines to thrive and create,” according to The Hive’s website.

The Hive is hidden behind and connected to the Morrises’ home in the Hamline-Midway neighborhood, which is currently decked out in Christmas decorations à la Snoopy’s doghouse.

The theatre itself is a small but expertly crafted black box theater with stage lights, a sound system and a built-in projector.

An energetic duo passionate about all things theatre, the Morrises cited a need for a more intimate and interactive theatre space for audiences and performers alike outside of the glitz and glamor of the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis or the Ordway in St. Paul.

“We’re trying to give the people what they want and what they can afford,” Morris said.

Concessions at The Hive are always free and the Morrises said they try to keep tickets at an affordable price point.

Along with hosting shows like “What Are We?” The Hive also hosts various other events such as 16 Bar Bingo which are meant to bring theatre and the community closer together.

With a year in the books, Morris and Rudolph Morris said year two will be dedicated to reflecting on their success and thinking about what the future holds for the Hive.

“We’ve been so lucky to be so successful our first year, especially because it’s just us,” Rudolph Morris said. “There’s this idea of theatre being for older people. We want to use our traditional theatre backgrounds to make something new and bring young people to the theatre.”

Fans of recurring R&B standout Tinashe flooded the Fillmore in downtown Minneapolis Thursday night, ready and willing to match her freak.

The 31-year-old owned the stage even before she walked out, with fans rushing to the floor when the lights went low and the glitchy, sensual cyberpunk opening visual asked the unofficial question of 2024 — “Is somebody gonna match my freak?”

The crowd erupted without so much as a word when Tinashe sauntered out in a haute couture getup, thigh- high stilettos, blond dreads and wrap-around sunglasses.

Her set brought the energy of an arena show to the relatively small venue in the form of a highly produced dance party that blended her greatest hits, fan favorites and songs from her latest album “Quantum Baby.”

Tinashe has maintained a dedicated fan base despite intermittent success across her decade-long career. Fans watching from the mezzanine were practically hanging over the railing to cheer her on.

She had yet another song break into the mainstream this year with “Nasty,” which went viral on TikTok, was named the app’s number two song of the summer in the U.S. and reached number one on the U.S. rhythmic radio chart. 

“Nasty” came 10 years after her first breakout “2 On,” featuring Schoolboy Q, which conjures vivid memories of hearing it on the radio on drives home from school in 2014.

Tinashe began with the sensual, bouncy dance track “Getting No Sleep,” dancing suggestively in front of thermal footage of her slinking through a contemporary poolside patio and tenderly kissing a girl.

Vivid visuals helped keep the energy up throughout the show. At times she used a handheld live camera to magnify her stage presence, the live feed multiplied infinitely on the screen behind her.

Tinashe played it safe with some visuals and experimented with others, which created dissonance at times.

For the song “Thirsty,” the crystal clear sound of pouring water coincided with a backdrop of sloshing water. For “Red Flags,” her backup dancers left the stage, which was doused in red light, and a camera in the back of the venue focused solely on her face and eyes, which appeared hazy as she moved.

These visuals were immersive, almost hypnotizing, without being on-the-nose.

Then the song “Party Favors,” took an entirely different direction. The slow, bass-heavy track was paired with a bizarre clip of someone with sharp, black nails pulling dead skin off their hand, which cut to more straightforward footage of Tinashe dancing.

It was an odd moment of creepiness that didn’t fit with the song or the hazy, cyberpunk glam set.

Later, a looping video of Tinashe with turquoise hair, naked, covered in similarly-colored slime accompanied the speedy breakcore track “SHY GUY.”

Though less disturbing and certainly interesting, the clip still felt out of place in Tinashe’s aesthetic.

The energy was at its highest during the bratty rap song “Throw a Fit” and the classics “All Hands on Deck” and “2 On.”

It slowed during deep cut “Gravity,” only to be revived by the final three songs, the upbeat yet cynical “All My Friends,” single girl anthem, “No Broke Boys” and, of course, “Nasty.”

Saving the best for last, Tinashe told the crowd, “You know what time it is,” to raucous cheers as the coy lyrics rang out.

“I’ve been a nasty girl,” everyone sang in unison, swinging their hips just as Tinashe did.

The energy was at its highest during the bratty rap song “Throw a Fit” and the classics “All Hands on Deck” and “2 On.”

It slowed during deep cut “Gravity,” only to be revived by the final three songs, the upbeat yet cynical “All My Friends,” single girl anthem, “No Broke Boys” and, of course, “Nasty.”

Saving the best for last, Tinashe told the crowd, “You know what time it is,” to raucous cheers as the coy lyrics rang out.

“I’ve been a nasty girl,” everyone sang in unison, swinging their hips just as Tinashe did.

The singer performed an impressive 24 songs in just a little over an hour, meaning the “Tinashe Train” stopped for no one, even if it meant disappearing off stage and letting her backup dancers or premade visuals take the lead for a song.

There were brief moments when Tinashe checked in to reinvigorate the crowd, but she did little to balance the fast pace of the show and foster a feeling of genuine connection with the audience.

The end of the show felt abrupt when “Nasty” ended and Tinashe warmly thanked everyone for coming and wished them a safe trip home. 

Still, her stunning visuals, hypnotizing dance moves and sexy swagger show that Tinashe has carved her niche in pop music where she has thrived for years.

Tinashe is aware of this. On the remix of “B2b” (on the “BRAT” remix album magnum opus of fellow reborn 2010s pop star Charli xcx), Tinashe sings, “Look at me now, better than before / They wanna be like me, can’t even blame them for it / Didn’t come out of nowhere, they been sleeping on me, I’m bored / Look so good on your mood board.”

Perhaps her forays into the mainstream are mere glimpses of talent Tinashe has always possessed but has, indeed, been slept on.

After a nearly nine-month coffee drought, Vitality Roasting has brought back what students living in Como have sorely missed — good coffee and a chill study space.

The Black Coffee and Waffle Bar at 1500 Como Avenue closed in March, and though Vitality opened with little fanfare on Monday, Nov. 4, they have been welcoming back both regulars and new customers with open arms.

“The first week has been slow, but steady and really welcoming,” said Nina Eide, a Vitality barista who worked at Black Coffee for five years. “It’s been nice to have a soft opening. Regulars have been coming in to say hi and we’ve been telling them, ‘We’re open, tell your friends!’”

Eide headed the location’s renovation alongside Vitality head roaster Maddison Spall and said she felt the absence of a café in the neighborhood.

“We would just stare out the window and I’d see people walking by and think, ‘God, I just want them to come in and hang out with us,’” Eide said.

Compared to previous tenants Black Coffee and Muddsuckers before that, Vitality is the least like a restaurant and the most like a café, serving mainly coffee alongside a pared-down food menu consisting of housemade baked goods, including granola bars.

Vitality sets itself apart with its drink specials, from a straightforward yet delicious pumpkin chai to the more offbeat black pepper latte, which combines the flavors of honey and housemade black peppercorn syrup.

Eide named the black pepper latte her favorite special, particularly over ice. She described it as “Minnesota spicy.”

“It’s not spicy, but there is a bit of a pop,” she said. “It’s good if you like more of the coffee flavor and you’re not into sweet stuff.”

Indeed, the black pepper accentuates the warmth and boldness of the espresso while the honey brings a sweetness that balances rather than overpowers.

This homemade spirit can be found throughout Vitality’s menu. Spall said their favorite menu item, chai tea, is made from scratch in a big pot in their kitchen, as opposed to many other cafés that use chai from a carton.

“We just throw the tea and all the spices into the pot and let it steep,” they said. “It’s made with love, and it tastes fantastic.”

The Black Coffee location closed due to subpar building conditions and an inability to attract customers compared to its other Twin Cities metro locations in St. Paul and the Rosedale Center shopping mall in Roseville.

Vitality started roasting coffee in 2018, with Black Coffee being one of its first clients. The Como café is their second location, their first having opened in 2017 in downtown Minneapolis.

Vitality replacing Black Coffee continues the tradition of cafés inhabiting 1500 Como, Black Coffee district manager Katie Essler said in March.

Both Eide and Spall said they’re happy and excited that coffee is back in Como. So are students who live in the neighborhood that used to go to Black Coffee.

Isaac Leppanen, a University of Minnesota junior, said he went to Black Coffee semi-regularly to study and was surprised when he found out they were closing.

The first time he came to Vitality on Tuesday morning, he ordered a large black cold brew and sat down to study on a comfy, worn contemporary black couch in their side room.

“It could use more decor,” Leppanen said. “But I like how the front looks.”

For now, only a couple of spider plants sit on the shelf in Vitality’s side room, but their front room is more fleshed out, with sage green shelves and menu boards and a white accent wall with a repeating black asterisk motif.

Until Vitality opened, Leppanen said he would go to Up Coffee on Northeast Traffic Street in north Como, which is more of a trek. Now, Vitality is just a couple of blocks away from his house.

“This is just a convenient place for students to go and there’s a good community here,” he said. “It’s a nice, safe space.”

You’d be hard-pressed to find a bison melt, bison tacos or lemon saguaro seed muffins anywhere else in the Twin Cities outside of Gatherings Café.

Housed in the Minnesota American Indian Center (MAIC) on Franklin Avenue, the heart of the American Indian Cultural Corridor, Gatherings “strives to provide accessible, healthy Indigenous food and knowledge to the Twin Cities Native and greater community,” according to its website.

The café re-opened in June after a year and a half of renovations, which yielded a bright, airy dining room, a revamped menu and a new executive chef to oversee it all.

“It looks like a completely different space,” said Natalie Rademacher, MAIC communications coordinator.

According to Rademacher, who is of Grand Portage Ojibwe descent, Gatherings first opened a decade ago as an informal concession kitchen instead of a fully-fledged restaurant.

“We have so much more capacity than we used to,” Rademacher said. “It’s really fun just being able to expand what we do, reach more people and share Native cuisine with a wider group.”

Executive Chef Vernon DeFoe, a middle-aged man with septum and labret piercings and a salt-and-pepper beard who insists he isn’t cool, led the effort with more than a decade of experience in the Indigenous Food Sovereignty movement in Minneapolis.

“Native people aren’t physically equipped to process a lot of the food they’ve been given access to,” said DeFoe, who is Red Cliff Anishinaabe. “It’s created a lot of health problems. A study on the Meskwaki people, I believe, showed that they literally shrunk after being cut off from bison. We’re just trying to get people reconnected with foods that are more natural to them.”

DeFoe was also one of the first hired staff of the restaurant Owamni, and he brought the practices he learned from the Sioux Chef Sean Sherman to Gatherings.

This includes sourcing ingredients from local Indigenous producers and placing a large emphasis on health on their menu, which reflects the MAIC’s larger goal of providing access to healthy lifestyles to the Native community.

Bison, for example, is leaner than beef but has richer fat, according to DeFoe.

DeFoe also creates food demonstration videos for MAIC’s website and YouTube channel so community members can educate themselves on how to source Native ingredients and prepare simple meals with them.

Gatherings’ emphasis on accessibility can be seen in their price point and their use of “innovation mixed with ancestral knowledge,” per their website.

“People know what a melt is or what tacos are,” DeFoe said. “So we put bison in them.”

The bison tacos happen to be Gatherings’ most popular menu item, according to Rademacher. It helps that DeFoe’s favorite thing to cook is meat.

“I just really like cooking meat,” DeFoe said.

The tacos feature bison, which Gatherings sources from a reservation in South Dakota, and fire-roasted veggies, paired with sides of housemade salsa and blue corn chips.

Rademacher said her favorite is the 3 Sisters Kale Salad, which utilizes the three main crops that Indigenous groups across North and Central America traditionally planted together.

Known as the Three Sisters, squash, maize and beans create a symbiotic relationship when planted together that maintains soil health.

The salad accentuates the Three Sisters with pecans, pepitas, white onion and a housemade maple vinaigrette, creating a tasty and surprisingly fulfilling meal.

As far as drinks go, Gatherings offers your classic water, coffee and orange juice as well as a more unusual beverage — non-alcoholic seltzers chock full of mushrooms.

Headwater seltzers, produced by Gentleman Forager, are functional mushroom drinks infused with fruit flavor and numerous health benefits provided by Lion’s Mane and Chaga mushrooms.

What’s more, Gentleman Forager backs up its health claims with a paragraph-long blurb on the side of its cans.

“University studies suggest that Lion’s Mane may contribute to improved memory, focus, and overall cognitive function,” it says.

Headwater pairs Lion’s Mane with a subtle tangerine flavor and a zing of spice, which was delicious, though its alleged effects were undetectable.

Beyond the food, DeFoe dryly named two reasons why students should come visit Gatherings.

“We need money and we got free wi-fi, so you can do your homework and hang out here all day,” DeFoe said.

On a more serious note, he added, “Everyone in the corridor is trying to improve the neighborhood, so we’re welcoming everybody down here.”

The next time Bordertown is inevitably full, instead of buying food from the University that stole Indigenous land, hop on the 2 bus and try something new that actually isn’t new at all.

This food, and the people that make it, have always been here, and they always will be.

After a highly successful inaugural fest last year, the second annual Midwest Queer & Trans Zine Fest did not disappoint.

Vendors and attendees from across the region filled the second floor of the Open Book building in Minneapolis’ Mill District on Saturday and Sunday, connecting over an art form that is integral to queer community and culture.

“Zines have always been very queer,” said Aiden Bettine, half of Late Night Copies Press, one of the Zine Fest’s organizers. “We write things for ourselves and for each other.”

Zines are DIY print media that can be as simple as scribbles on a folded piece of printer paper or as complex as thread-bound, digitally-drawn booklets.

Historically, zines have been an avenue for resource sharing and community building. Many zines at Zine Fest still serve that purpose, sharing information about the Palestinian genocide, among other issues.

Another aspect is zine trading, a fun way to redistribute zines and share favorites far and wide. Minneapolis resident and attendee Jada Pulley said it was something they enjoyed.

Many at the fest, including Pulley, also mentioned how intertwined zines are with queerness and transness.

“I don’t think I know any straight people that make zines,” said Jason Nawrocki, a vendor from Minneapolis and University of Minnesota graduate. “A lot of queer people are drawn to DIY art media and community building, especially in Minneapolis.”

More space for community building was made this year with the inclusion of the first Midwest Queer & Trans Zine Conference, which took place at Elmer L. Andersen Library on the University campus on Friday.

“The Fest is a lot to do in two days, and by the end everyone is tired,” Bettine explained. “I think (the Conference) provided a really nice space to talk about the things we all really care about.”

This year’s fest also brought in zine-makers, also known as zinesters, from farther out, from Ohio to Missouri to even Seattle.

“There was a desire to bring in a short list of people from elsewhere that we feel like bring interesting and inspiring work without reproducing the elite coastal reality,” Bettine said of the vendor from Seattle.

The vendor, Robert Baxter, is one of the only technicians in the U. S. for the risograph, a Japanese digital copier best used for digital screen printing, according to Amsterdam print studio Riso Pop.

“It was an opportunity to bring knowledge beyond zines, to bring education and training from a nationwide expert,” Bettine said.

This year’s fest also gave opportunities to first-time vendors to sell and be in the community at a large, queer-exclusive event.

For Pilot Lee, a zinester from Madison, Wisconsin, the fest was their first out-of-state and first two-day market. They said it went better than they could’ve hoped.

“I’ve made tons of table friends and art friends,” Lee said. “It’s made me feel like my contributions are being seen.”

Lee, who identifies as an Indian-Korean trans person and uses he/she/they pronouns interchangeably, said being in a space with other artists of color was rewarding and fulfilling.

Lee said the Zine Fest and similar events provide crucial spaces for queer art in general.

“You are not going to find this kind of art anywhere else,” Lee said. “If you go to any maker’s market, you’re not going to see quite so many queer and trans people or queer and trans people of color. I say this as an avid marketgoer and bookstore lover.”

Lee said they make memoirs and educational zines, which are available for free digitally on their Instagram, tinygalaxykid.

One of Lee’s zines is a how-to guide for first-time art vendors. Another describes Lee’s experience with having to prove her need for accommodations to their university’s bureaucratic disability resource center and learning to accept having ADHD.

Nawrocki said the independent production format of zines allows for a wide range of content that’s not sanctioned by a publishing content or art gallery.

“Even if you’re not queer, even if you’re not into zines, (the Zine Fest) is a really good way to learn about somebody, what they’re passionate about and what they want to say,” he said.

Bettine said tentative ideas for future Midwest Queer & Trans Zine Fests include hosting fests elsewhere in the region and zine-making workshops for attendees.

With how well the first two years have gone, it’s exciting to think about what will be next for the Midwest Queer & Trans Zine Fest.

Several prefaces are needed for this story. 

First of all, I’m a lightweight. I get sufficiently intoxicated after one beer, and even then I don’t really enjoy the feeling of it. I prefer to drink socially around trusted friends in cozy, quieter settings. I’ve never been much of a partier, either.

Secondly, I’m a queer person, and I felt like the odd one out at most of these bars. I’ll always feel excluded from the bar culture on campus.

All of that to say, take this ranking with a grain of salt. I don’t mean to rain on anyone’s parade, rather, I want to share my experiences. 

If you’re like me, keep reading to find out where you’ll actually have a fun night out around campus.

5. Sally’s Saloon

Sally’s Saloon is a cavernous sports bar on Washington Avenue that has lines out the door on your typical weekend night or game day. Slightly fewer people were there at 9 p.m. on Thursday night, but there was still a considerable din that grew as the night went on.

I’ll start with the pros — Sally’s size makes it somewhat easy to find your group’s own little enclave.

It’s super stocked with a wide array of drink options, and though I didn’t order food there either, their selection is huge and surprisingly cheap, with their most expensive burger being only $12.

Unfortunately, but perhaps unsurprisingly, Sally’s does pull the sides-cost-extra trick.

Huge screens all over the restaurant cater to all sports interests.

The cons of Sally’s define it as a bar, which, by the way, was both wet and sticky when I leaned on it.

My partner, who accompanied me on my bar crawl, said she got a weird look from someone, so fair warning if you’re visibly queer.

The crowd was overwhelming for me, not to mention the presence of a Minneapolis police officer put me on edge.

I later found out that Sally’s is just one of many properties owned by The After Midnight Group, a real estate company specializing in bars and restaurants. Perhaps that’s why the environment feels so shallow.

4. The Kollege Klub

The Kollege Klub in Dinkytown opened in 2019 as the Minnesota version of a more than 60-year-old University of Wisconsin-Madisoin institution of the same name.

Naturally, the love and life passed from generation to generation in such places are not present at the Kollege Klub in Dinkytown.

The Klub’s use of the app LineLeap creates an immediate disconnect because of the annoying task of downloading something new on your phone.

On LineLeap, patrons buy an approximately $6 pass to get into Kollege Klub which covers their entry plus one drink, which on Thursday was a vodka seltzer with a wild cherry White Claw tipped upside down into it.

Cherry is not my first choice of White Claw flavor, and the drink was too strong for me to finish.

The food is cheap and, based on pictures online, adequate, though the menu is somewhat limited. Whatever you get probably does the trick on gameday, though.

Kollege Klub’s biggest sin is that it was boring. While there is a basement and upper level to explore, when I went there appeared to be an event that had reserved both floors.

As cheesy 2000s and 2010s music blared over the loudspeakers, I watched my well-dressed peers file up the stairs from the basement and up to the second floor. The girls were wearing their dates’ ties around their necks.

As I watched, I thought to myself,  “Does high school never end? Or was it the first test for the real world?”

3. Blarney Pub & Grill

The website for Blarney Pub & Grill on 14th Ave. SE boasts about the restaurant’s laid-back atmosphere. Perhaps that’s true earlier in the kitchen’s open hours), but most definitely not on a Thursday at 10 p.m.

A cacophony of a collective karaoke performance of “Need You Now” by Lady A blanketed the space. 

The immense volume of people spread across the space. One small crowd stretched the length of the bar tucked under the mezzanine. Even more people jam-packed the mezzanine itself.

Amazingly, the long dining table fit for feasts closest to the kitchen was entirely full.

I got a Miller Lite out of courtesy, though ordering food seemed out of the question. It’s a shame considering the variety on their menu, from traditional Irish Bangers N’ Mash to the intriguing Irish Nachos — potato chips topped with cheese sauce, pulled pork, green onions and pico de gallo.

Better opportunities to eat at Blarney must be during the day or on less busy nights.

As if by fate, one table was left for me at the very back of the mezzanine. The scene of my peers’ drunken karaoke revelry below felt almost unreal. 

While I enjoyed the Irish pub-themed interior, Blarney felt reduced to a playground.

2. Stub & Herbs

Now for the actually fun bars!

Stub & Herbs is a relic of the University of Minnesota’s history sandwiched between more recent corporate additions to Stadium Village. 

Having first opened in 1939, Stub & Herbs’ contemporary slogan is “Your Grandpa Drank Here!”This chill pub has earned its stripes as a University of Minnesota institution.

Not many people were there when I arrived around 7:30 p.m., but it filled up as the night progressed.

I had a yummy Truly Strawberry Lemonade hard seltzer for an acceptable $5.

The last thing I expected to eat at a bar was soup, but Stub & Herbs’ tomato bisque was heavenly. 

It was velvety and heartwarming with a little bit of spice — the only things missing were croutons and parm on top.

The bisque came on the side of a grilled cheese sandwich, which could have used more flavor and felt less substantial than grilled cheeses I’ve had at other restaurants, but it was still very good.

There’s also a game room with pool and Big Buck Hunter, so plenty of options to have fun with your friends.

This is the spot closest to campus that I most recommend. Be sure to check out the liminal basement, too.

1. Como Tap

Como Tap was the chillest bar I went to, though to be fair, both times I went were on Monday nights.

Even on their busier nights though, like their karaoke nights on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I expect the vibes to be less rancid than Sally’s.

Como Tap has endearing, dive bar-esque decor that’s a fun mix of grungy graffiti, University swag and bar paraphernalia with a charming creaky wooden floor to boot.

Como Tap is where I learned I like $5 Stella Artois. They have specialty cocktails, too (I want to try their Wine Pop pinot grigio spritzer).

They also have an extensive, though slightly expensive, menu with a kitchen that’s open past midnight daily.

Como Tap also has plenty of fun activities. They have classics like pool, darts, a board game shelf and a TouchTunes jukebox.

One minute you might be listening to “Like A G6,” the next, “The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald” by Gordon Lightfoot.

Other event nights include Trivia Thursdays and Brunch from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays.

Thank you for going on this odyssey with me, and if I dissed your favorite bar, don’t take it personally. I’m just a local introverted queer who’s tired.

Indie singer-songwriter Indigo De Souza’s Saturday performance at the Coffman Union Great Hall was highly anticipated since the concert was announced in late August.

That was before De Souza’s house was destroyed in Hurricane Helene late last month, along with her hometown of Asheville, North Carolina.

“I’m feeling very fragile and intense right now, and I just wanted to share that,” she said after informing the crowd of her loss.

That fragility was apparent in De Souza’s somber stage presence, the heaviness of her burden visibly weighing down her shoulders and softening her smiles and giggles between songs.

Though the concert was planned to be a low-key solo set from the beginning, the set-up was fitting given the circumstances. Armed with her electric guitar, De Souza held her own despite it being her first time performing without her band.

De Souza deviated from the norm by flipping through a binder of her songs on stage and randomly choosing what to play rather than following a setlist.

The result was a selection of slow songs that exuded a range of powerful emotions connected by an overarching theme of recovering from loss.

“I look my best when I say what I mean / don’t push me out of mind,” she sang softly from her 2016 deep cut “The Moon Is No Good.” “I do my best on Saturdays / leave the rest of the week behind.”

De Souza’s incredible vocal range was on full display, from her tender singing to almost agonized belting, coupled with a ghostly vibrato.

In a similar vein of cursing celestial bodies, De Souza displayed a powerful crescendo in the refrain of “The Sun Is Bad.”

“The sun just don’t rise up for me this time / Sun just won’t rise up for us tonight.”

“The Sun Is Bad” is written from De Souza’s agonized perspective while she breaks up with her partner, but it evokes the pain of letting go of anything that was once deeply loved.

De Souza’s stripped and slowed rendition of “All of This Will End” epitomized the mood of the show. It felt like she had dedicated the song to herself, a cathartic release of all of the strife she’s experienced lately.

“You ask me what I think about this / Is there a reason for it? / I don’t have answers, no one does / I’ve been finding comfort in that,” she sang.

A sort of joyful nihilism imbued the chorus: “Who gives a f-ck? / All of this will end / Don’t forget / All of this will end.”

The crowd was vocal in their support for De Souza throughout the show, with whooping cheers echoing throughout the Great Hall after every song.

“If you have anything you need to yell out, please do at any time,” De Souza told the crowd. 

“I love you!” someone shouted in immediate response, eliciting a giggle from De Souza.

Before performing the last song she wrote in her now-ruined house, De Souza apologized for how sad it was to bring it up. A crowd member shouted back, “We’re here for you!” followed by applause.

The mood that evening was not wholly melancholy. De Souza introduced her cover of Gabrielle Aplin’s “Home” with a playful anecdote of how she wooed her first significant boyfriend with the song.

“I saw him playing guitar in public and I went up to him after and said, ‘I like your voice. You know, I do that too. Can I play you a song?’” she explained. “That was like, the most forward I’ve ever been.”

In another moment of levity, she told the bittersweet story of how she had to rehome her dog after he kept killing her neighbor’s ducks before performing the song she wrote for him.

“Country problems,” she laughed. Everyone else did, too.

De Souza ended the night with “Younger & Dumber,” a heart-wrenching lament about trauma kickstarting growing up without any warning or preparation.

“I don’t feel at home in this house anymore,” she sang, her words evoking her mud-filled house and flooded hometown. 

The end of the chorus came out in a powerful belt: “Which way will I run when I’m over you? / I don’t feel at home in this town.” 

As she finished the song, De Souza’s voice grew soft again.

“When I was younger / Younger and dumber / I didn’t know better.”

De Souza had no words after her set. She simply made a heart with her hands over her head at the crowd, smiling softly. Several audience members made the gesture back.

Minneapolis indie band Creeping Charlie and angsty indie rocker Susannah Joffe opened for De Souza, who infused energy into the otherwise subdued night.

If there’s one thing Dinkytown has, it’s restaurants. 

Many restaurants vie to be the late-night fix of a drunken University of Minnesota student. Others are more fitting for dinner dates with friends and lovers alike. 

As a senior, I cut my teeth on certified classics like Wally’s, D.P. Dough and Raising Canes, but there are several places in Dinky I’ve never tried.

So, which ones are worthy of our highly coveted dollar, much less our time?

CrunCheese

I first ventured to CrunCheese Korean Hot Dog, a small, dingy space cut out of the corner of 14th Ave. SE and Fourth St. SE serve a variety of Korean-style deep-fried corn dogs.

I remember when this restaurant first opened during the spring semester of 2022. Lines were stretching out the door and I even remember spotting my friend and their out-of-town family partaking.

Nowadays, it’s decidedly empty.

Ordering is slightly confusing for a newcomer. They don’t display all of their options on the menu, rather it’s a build-your-own type of arrangement.

I got the “mozzarella + hot dog,” drawn in by its “best” star. After your dog is cooked, you choose seasoning and sauce for it. I went with the garlic parmesan sauce.

The whole deal cost me $5, which is not a bad deal for an after-class snack or a quick fix.

The initial eating experience was inoffensive. The deep-fried batter had a satisfying mouthfeel. The mozzarella tasted like mozzarella, though I was wondering when I would reach the hotdog. The sauce added much-needed flavor, though I wished I had gone with a spicier option. 

A curious thing happened as I went about my night, though. I lost my appetite, and thinking about what I’d eaten made my stomach drop not out of regret, but of nausea.

Thinking about CrunCheese still gives my stomach flashbacks.

Overall, it was not an experience I would like to relive, but give it a shot if you really want to. And no shade if you enjoy it, either.

Frank and Andrea’s

For dinner one night, I ordered pickup from Frank From Philly & Andrea Pizza, or as it is more commonly known, Frank and Andrea’s, located just one block down from CrunCheese on 13th Ave. SE.

Frank & Andrea offers a variety of Philly cheesesteaks and New York-style pizzas. 

Among the latest open, they close at 3 a.m. Thursday through Saturday, part of their appeal is filling, tasty, post-party fare.

Indeed, the Cheesesteak Hoagie I had with steak and provolone was good, but nothing special. It was a big sandwich, very filling, but somewhat lacking in flavor and slightly overpowered by the mayonnaise drizzled on top.

I got regular fries and a Mug Root Beer with my order, which were extra because Frank & Andrea do not offer combo meals, bringing my total to just over $22.

Personally, over $20 for a passable meal for myself is too rich for my blood. Still, Frank & Andrea’s undeniable variety of both sandwiches and pizza may make that a worthy investment for some, and definitely worthy of splitting with a group of friends after a night out.

Al’s

After sleeping off CrunCheese, I got up early the next morning to go to Al’s Breakfast, an over 70-year-old Dinkytown institution now sandwiched between Wally’s and Crisp & Green.

Even with its unassuming exterior and its small, cluttered lunch counter interior, there’s a good reason why Al’s has survived Dinkytown’s commercialization.

Funnily enough, as I walked in the door, the staff were talking about how much they hated Dinkytown for that very reason.

I was greeted warmly by the friendly staff with infectious camaraderie with each other, and as soon as I sat down the server told me my hair was beautiful (the key to my heart).

Al’s interior has a warm, cozy vintage feel with playful idiosyncrasies, such as a wall covered in bills of various currencies, charmingly wobbly stools and stained glass ceiling lamps.

I ordered a simple, regular stack of chocolate chip pancakes slathered with a generous helping of butter, which I covered in maple syrup. Though simple, they were soft, sweet and heartwarming.

The kind server kept the coffee coming, which I always appreciate when I go to a diner. What’s more, the total only came to $12.60, not including tip.

The biggest caveats to Al’s come with its limited hours of 6 a.m. to 1 p.m. seven days a week and its cash-or-check-only policy. Still, it says something that Al’s has stuck around for this long even with those limitations.

In sum, it’s worth the early rise and the trip to the ATM.

Wally’s

As I was walking down 14th Ave. to a new spot for lunch on Friday, I walked past Wally’s, the Palestinian restaurant that has been a favorite of mine and my friends since our freshman year.

On a whim, I decided to revisit it, getting my go-to falafel deluxe sandwich combo with a refreshing mint lemonade smoothie.

As I ate my lunch, I traced my finger along the table covered in sepia photos of 1990s Jenin, Palestine, absolutely teeming with life. It made me sad, but it also prompted me to savor the food that much more.

The fact is, Wally’s was once new to me. I gave it a chance, and now it’s a go-to option for eating out.

Dinkytown is not the same as it was even just three years ago, but its culinary mainstays have proven themselves worthy not only of staying open but of shaping our lives as students.

A new University of Minnesota publication has entered the scene this semester with a unique focus on the art form of manga, or comics and graphic novels from Japan.

Minnesota Manga, which is now available at The Book House in Dinkytown, brings to life the passions of its creators and contributors in the form of a soft cover booklet magazine and a glimmery-eyed Babe the Blue Ox logo promising to “add that manga touch to anyone’s back to school experience!”

Gideon Lundin, a university junior and the founder and editor-in-chief of Minnesota Manga, has been reading manga since middle school.

The first manga he read was “One Piece,” and he said he has read most of the 109 volumes. Lundin’s fascination with manga inspired him to start his own manga magazine.

“The style was just so whimsical and fantastical,” Lundin said. “Manga feels so unlike other comics that are one step behind in terms of making things feel special.”

Lundin said his goal is to make Minnesota Manga as ubiquitous as the weekly issues found in grocery stores across Japan.

Lundin contrasted manga with American comic books that he said have been monopolized by Marvel and DC.

“American comic books focus so much on superheroes,” he said. “Manga is more cinematic, and artists have more authority over what they make, so there’s more creativity.”

Lundin’s close friend Dietrich Atienza, a junior at the University of Northwestern-St. Paul (UNW), recalled Lundin noticing him reading manga in middle school and the two sparked a bond over their shared passion.

Atienza said his father, “a manga and anime nerd” himself, immersed him in manga classics such as “One-Punch Man” and “Attack on Titan.”

Atienza is now “almost like a salesman” for Minnesota Manga at UNW.

Atienza said he wanted to help Lundin with his passion project before he even asked for his help.

“He’s one of my closest friends, and my goal is to help him make his dream a reality,” Atienza said.

Minnesota Manga has been years in the making for Lundin. He said the biggest challenge was finding local mangakas, or manga creators.

“Not many people understand how long it takes to make manga,” Lundin said.

Lundin’s manga in the Fall 2024 issue, “GoGo Ninja,” is a “Naruto”-inspired one-shot, or standalone story, that has been in the works since the beginning of COVID-19.

“I spent way more time on the art than the writing, which I’m not super happy about, but it was good enough for me to put in the magazine,” Lundin said.

Lundin recruited two other artists for the fall issue and hopes to find more via social media and exposure through physical sales.

One of the artists featured in this current issue is Karina Herrera-Cavazos, also a junior at the University of Minnesota, whose one-shot “Don’t Smoke on Campus” expands on an anti-smoking PSA she made for a psychology class.

“I’ve always liked drawing comics, and keeping campus smoke-free is something I’m passionate about,” Herrera-Cavazos said.

While her comics aren’t directly inspired by manga, Herrera-Cavazos said she has enjoyed reading mangas like “My Hero Academia” and “Zatch Bell!”

Herrera-Cavazos said she has been wanting to put her art out there and plans on submitting it to Minnesota Manga’s next issue, which is planned for spring semester.

“It’s crazy to actually see and touch the magazine,” Herrera-Cavazos said. “I want it to become more established, and I want more people to know about this publication.”

Though Lundin, Atienza and Herrera-Cavazos all have limited time left in their college careers, they all expressed hopes that Minnesota Manga will take off in that time.