Lock your doors! Hide the OxyContin! Stuff@Night is why I stay home.

This free bi-weekly is so utterly naff, it could only have come from the Phoenix Media Group. The Phoenix markets itself as überalternative, but Stuff@Night is all the proof you need that it’s a front. And a flimsy one at that.

Possibly the single naffest feature of the rag is “booty call,” “because Boston stays up late (even when the clubs close)”. The idea is that you’re out late, and you’re so thoroughly, irredeemably pathetic that you either already have “booty call”’s number programmed into your phone, or you’re so bored you’ve picked up a copy of Stuff@Night, found the number inside, and actually called it and left a message.

Wanna know how something like the Imette St. Guillen murder could happen? It’s right here in “Booty Call”:

“I’m in a car with a random guy who’s giving me a ride home, and I heard something on the radio about lactive centers. Do I have a lactive center? Are you born with those, or do you grow them? And can guys have them? I was just curious. I don’t know. Lactive centers, huh? Who knows?”

Aside from that, most “booty calls” run along the lines of “I love Stuff@night and I love keg parties!” “I had a good night, drank some vodka, and I’m not that drunk, so I’m proud of myself.” And “Hey, Booty Call. I’m making a booty call because it’s in the morning now and I’m gonna do my thing like always: go to the computer and meet lotta girls in there, and have sex and get paid for it. Yeah, I know it’s funny how I do it. I know it’s crazy and everything, but it’s great. It’s great. I do it every time, I go meet lotta girls and have sex and get paid for it. And I’m enjoying this, I’m enjoying, but I gotta do what I gotta do. Yeah. Yeah. Bye.” This guy is probably a busboy at Chili’s. I think I may have dated him once.

When it comes to “sex,” Stuff@Night’s got a column under that heading in every single issue! This week’s theme? You guessed it: pap smears! Yeah, baby!

It is THAT NAFF, people.

There’s a letter in the Phoenix this week that sort of sums it up: “As for the Phoenix, what’s up with you? Are you owned by the Clear Channel now, or what? No, seriously, you are not progressive or hip. You are the frat boy in the pit, and we hate you.”