Million Dickhead Listing SF: That neighborhood you thought was so cool? It's shit. Your neighborhood is a literal pile of shit.

I'm talking about Bernal Heights, of course, or at least the "OTHER SIDE OF THE HILL" Bernal Heights where a goddam honest hardworking developer can't hollow out a hillside and create an Open Floor Plan without potential occupants being forced to look at such Slums of Calcutta-type features as a neighbor with sheets for blinds or an oddly placed dryer vent.  THESE ANIMALS DON'T EVEN APPRECIATE THE $1.6 MILLION GIFT I'M BRINGING TO THIS SHITHOLE YOU CALL A NEIGHBORHOOD.

Maybe it'll bring the prices down!  Nah.  Somehow our friend Andrew must convince some rube to drop that kind of money for yet another featureless box, this one inconveniently located not in the Mission.  He is utterly stymied by the impossibility of this task until it dawns on him there might be a TECH SHUTTLE nearby, a phrase he repeats with the intensity and determination that a pilgrim on the way to Lourdes might deploy the Ave Maria.  Later, when Andrew for some reason is meeting Justin for drinks outside the Balboa Cafe (I think), a tech shuttle goes by and Andrew LEAPS FROM HIS CHAIR, chasing it, moaning "tech shuuuuuuutle tech shuuuuuuuuutle" as if his implorations might cause GBUS TO MTV to jump from its assigned stops and pick up bright-eyed young tech monsters on the Very Wrong Side of the Hill.  But alas, it recedes into the night, along with Andrew's dreams.

This is a good place to add that Balboa Cafe is a terrible, terrible place.

What of Justin?  When he's not begging Andrew for his eponymous domain name back, what else is he doing?  He's selling the house on San Carlos, and to do this he has invited both brokers and prospective (tech) buyers, who all arrive at the same time looking like immaculately-clad parents and their potentially bright but ugly and ill-dressed children.  Shockingly, Developer Beard did not remove every interior wall to transform a perfectly fine house into Massive Cattle Enclosure Floor Plan, but thoughtfully provided a "Tesla charger" for the garage.  Justin shakes down some dork for $3.5 million BUT WAIT this surely loathsome person doesn't have a Tesla.  He or she has a Range Rover and it won't fit in the garage BZZZZZZZZZT that'll be a two-to-three month delay.  Not a problem!  I'll be in Gstaad.  Ring me when the Rovie fits.

Relentlessly cheerful Roh, meanwhile, has been lobbed the penthouse at 8 Octavia, that building that looks like a huge window air conditioner right when you get off the freeway.  Inside, of course, it looks like EVERY OTHER PLACE ON THIS SHOW.  Design is certainly not my forte, but has it always been this uniform?  Or is just a recent development that every high-end interior is COMPLETELY INDISTINGUISHABLE from the next?  If you dropped the Senior VP of Product Ninja or whatever from Google into any one of these places, s/he would not have the slightest chance in hell of telling you whether or not s/he was in his/her OWN FUCKING HOUSE or someone else's.

I don't have a picture this week, so look at this baby chihuahua instead.

Roh has a plan.  He will secure the attendance of architect Stanley Saitowitz at his open house party.  Apparently Stanley Saitowitz has the panty-dropping prowess of an architectural Channing Tatum and his mere presence alone will empty wallets and hearts.  After a series of unsuccessful phone calls, Roh finally sits outside Stanley's office in his car which may not be the best idea for a Muslim dude stalking a famous Jewish guy, but Roh isn't rendered or anything and Stanley shows up to his party, gets in some selfies, and hopefully gets motherfucking PAID.

It's just another day in Our Garbage City.