Million Dickhead Listing SF: Turning and turning in the widening gyre

Just like last week, we've got a new crop of greedheads anxious to cash register out of their homes and siphon money from Google into their voracious mouths.  Unlike last week, it mostly doesn't work this time.

Justin meets up with old high school pal "Kevin" at Milennium Towers and I for one am curious about where the fuck this high school is.  (Oh, it's Gateway; here's a 2002 SF Gate piece on a much younger Justin interning at City Hall. Sounds like he wanted to go into politics instead of getting loathsome people houses in SF, but there you go.)  I hope Kevin is a long-form performance art piece with his dog named Kevyn Jr. and his stupid polar bear sweater and his apartment and his desire to become a jam enterpeneur because if this is all real AND it's coupled with his insane request to get almost $4 million for his little apartment (later talked down to 3 mil) then he's just a gluttonous snake like the rest of them who happens to think he's so quirky and charming and that's much worse somehow.

For some reason Justin thinks the way to blood-draw 3 million dollars from some sucker for this place is to have a fashion show?  So he gets some guy to put a bunch of mannequins fucking inside? And that will make people swoon and hand over their Dropbox fortune?

I don't know anything about fashion or real estate but the only thing this makes me want to buy is a flamethrower.  Eventually some mental deficient offers $2.8 for this place and of course Kevin won't take it.  We'll taste jam in hell together Kevin.

Andrew is not in San Francisco at all, which is a positive development for everyone else in San Francisco but unfortunately it looks like he's only temporarily detained in Livermore, where a little guy with a beard spends his days rolling around a 7000 square foot mansion that keeps getting described as Tuscan although it's in fucking Livermore and not Tuscany and also having red tiles and a pergola does not make any McMansion "Tuscan."  It's surrounded by a chardonnay vineyard because of course.

Returning to SOMA, as we often do, Roh is at the Metropolitan, where Ching would like him to sell a room at the W furnished by Ikea with an assist from the Free Stuff section of Craigslist.  Oh, there's a tenant they can't get rid of, and this little cockroach has committed the grave sin of leaving its shoddy belongings all over the unit.  The apartment is owned by MR. WONG, an "investor in China."

Mr. Wong's lair I mean office

Mr. Wong initially demands ONE POINT FOUR MILLION AMERICAN DOLLARS for this place but that is ridiculous even by San Francisco standards and Roh convinces Mr. Wong to go at the more reasonable 1.25.  Next a parade of assholes stomp through the place and pronounce it "ugly" and "horrible," just like their souls.  Eventually "Heidi," who has cultivated an aesthetic somewhere between truck stop waitress and Divine, comes forth with an offer: one million dollars.  Roh gets her to come up to 1.25 but I HAVE A BAD FEELING ABOUT THIS.

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.  Mere offers of under asking are loosed upon the world.  Jam Magnate/Complicated Hairstyle Kevin will not sell Mannequin Fuck Palace for under 3 mil, so our work here is done.  Tiny Wine Tycoon suddenly remembers that he has a daughter who wants to get married 'midst the rolling hills and lifted trucks of Livermore and so he cannot bear to sell Tuscan Towne for 3.8 or any other price.  Roh meets with Heidi fresh off her shift at the Flying J but she is about to grind out a Benson & Hedges in his eye when she finds out that Mr. Wong is no longer selling.  Instead, he is transforming the tenant into a postapocalyptic cyborg warrior who will do his dark bidding.  One day Mr. Wong will be the landlord of all of us.

Let's make fun of some city flags!

Via Burrito Justice, I have learned that the North American Vexillogical Association, which is an organization devoted to flags and not to bothering people, as you might imagine, did a survey of city flags in 2004 and published the "winners."  (I'm not linking to the survey directly because when I clicked on it my computer's virus protection FREAKED OUT and so the NAVA may have some evil computer infiltrating motive I'm not aware of.  Anyway.)

Most of them are depressingly similar.  A couple of stars, some color swatches, maybe a banner, a dude on a horse or in a boat, let's call it a day.  Some are worth looking at, though.

#1 was Washington DC.

YAWN.  Whatever.  It's got some bars, it's got some stars, it's got one color, red.  It would make a passable airline logo.  Best city flag?  Not even

#2 was Chicago.  It's another bore, but at least it has some blue.  #3 was Denver.

Flag, or logo of the Mid-Mountain Mining and Materials Corp.? You decide.

St. Louis, at #5, I kinda like, because it looks like it was designed by a drunk:

WHOA DUDE.  STOP WIGGLING.  Gotta admit, it's got some flava.

Colorado Springs, at #19, is....interesting.

That is some straight-up Yellow King shit right there.  Or maybe they're going for an African mask-kinda vibe?

I like it!

#23 St. Petersburg FL features a logo from an Op shirt I had in the later 80s:

Anchorage (#29) is basically a beer company logo.

Birmingham (#39) straight-up looks like a lesser-known Communist country.  Maybe in Central America?

I bet you 90% of Birminghamians of whateverTF they are would flip their fucking lids if they knew this was their flag.

I like that Fort Worth (#67) isn't gonna keep anyone guessing.

Ugly and obvious, just like everything else in Texas!

Lincoln Nebraska (#88) would like you to know WE HAVE NO SHORTCOMING IN ANY DEPARTMENT!!!

And so forth.  Most of them are just boring, like I said.  Want to see a real shitshow, though?

Untington! Oh, shit, wait, is that thing an "H"?  Or what the fuck is that thing?  I guess it's an H.  Huntington will be geared for progress once it can figure out how to draw a fucking H.

Everyone knows that SF has the best flag.  It was #35.

*sniff*

World Series Game 4, EXPRESS LANE EDITION: I did not see that coming

AND LO THE LORD SAYETH UNTO THEM

The Giants aren't dead!  They're not even sick.

This is coming from a man who texted someone last night in the fourth inning "This series is over." So grain of salt anything you hear from me.

Last night the Giants were down 4-1 and looked like shit.  Vogelsong pitched a great first inning and then Jesus had other shit to do because he fell off a cliff and got yanked.  Yuck.  So it looks pretty bad.  The Giants are down by 3 runs and they are not especially good at coming back from 3 runs down or 2 runs down or any runs down.

So they just went out and scored 10 more.  WHAT. THE. FUCKING. FUCK.

One sidenote - I was shit talking Juan Perez yesterday and he went out last night and GOT A HIT so apparently all I have to do is hate on someone and then they're great.  Oh, same thing with Hunter Strickland! I bad mouthed HS after his meltdown the other night and then he just came back last and pitched a 1-2-3 lights out ninth.  Granted, there's a lot less pressure with a SEVEN RUN LEAD but still!  Nice to have you back, Hunter. And your 100% predictable Instagram feed (courtesy of Encyclopedia Benner who tracked that down).

That was fun! I had forgotten about the Giants scoring runs. It's a thing they do sometimes when they're not KILLING ME.  It's tied 2-2.  Bumgarner tonight.  You know what that means.  Inning-long interviews with people while the game is going on. I hate Fox.

Not crazy about the new Smithwick's design

Smithwick's is a solid red ale brewed in Ireland.  The consensus on Beer Advocate seems to be that it's fine, nothing spectacular, but not bad.  I like it a little more than that probably.

Smithwick's used to have a perfectly fine package/bottle design.

You've got your castle, your 18th-century date to show how long it's been around, a little bit of green, and a nice scripty logo.  Like Beer Advocate would say about the beer itself, it's fine, nothing too good or too bad.

Smithwick's was doing fine and then, I imagine, they hired a consultant to jack up sales.  This consultant, a heartless, emotion-free autocrat, told them they had to redesign their perfectly good logo and packaging.  Smithwick's - and again, this is just my theory, I don't have any actual proof - hired the same design firm that works for Axe Body Spray and Uber and any other design you associate with assholes who wear flip flops and yell into cell phones on the train.  This is what they came up with.

Ugh.  It doesn't even look like beer any more.  Now it looks like one of those faux malted douche juices like Redd's Apple Ale.  In fact, look:

It's like the exact same colors and typeface and everything.  I'm sure the experts at DoucheBranding have done extensive research and know that packaging should be red to catch your eye in an increasingly crowded shelf ecosystem or whatever kind of shit they say, but it looks awful.

DoucheBranding also convinced them to make a TV commercial featuring - I am not making this up - a CGI squirrel who runs around the Smithwick's factory making beer at night.  Apart from the obvious problem that YOU CAN'T MAKE BEER OVERNIGHT, they didn't even have the decency to use an Irish band, instead opting for the Kaiser Chiefs.

Smithwick's is now owned by megacorporation Diageo, so I guess that explains a lot.

(One postscript - I just learned from rading Diageo's Wikipedia page that, in addition to Guinness, Red Stripe, Johnnie Walker, Crown Royal, Tanqueray, Smirnoff, and Rumple Minze (shudder), Diageo owns bourbon fetish object Bulleit, which has done an incredible job of positioning itself as some kind of artisanal handcrafted bourbon when in fact it's just part of Everything Co.  Good job, Bulleit!)

The Bachelor: Don't touch Mama

It's Hometowns Week!  What does that mean to you?  Nothing hopefully.  What it means to me is that I have to watch this fucking show 2 nights in a row.  See you in hell, ABC.

Oh great, we're starting in Kansas City.  I have beef with Kansas City, so to speak.  Anyway, that's where Rootsy's from.  Figures.  They do the usual park meetup and then go get some BBQ and then go to an empty bar and ride a mechanical bull.  It's like Urban Cowboy but with less Scott Glenn and more peroxide and vapidness.  Over to Rootsy's house, where everyone is so scrubbed and white and wholesome that the one brother with a neatly trimmed beard is so outré by comparison that he might as well be a heroin addict public masturbator.  Rootsy's a Rich and her house is one of those usual suburban nightmares where it looks like Pier One threw up on Country Living.  They have dinner next to a Viking Great Hall fireplace and they're all "whatever decision is fine" and nothing interesting happens except Roots tells Dad that being a Suddenly Mom at 26 will be no problem because she's been shown a lot of love!  HO HO HO.  If that made sense, beagle puppies could operate an MRI machine.

Act II: Atlanta.  Andi.  Her hair is two different colors now!  The Wife says, mysteriously, that this is due to "Ombre," which I gather is a contagious disease of some kind that gives you awful looking two-tone hair.  Oh, good, they're off to the shooting range.  Welcome to Stereotype America, Whan.  Andi describes herself as "salivating" over the prospect of popping off a few rounds and hey, whatever.  Whan is TERRIBLE at guns.  He finally hits the fucking target after like 30 tries.  If there is a poor charging at you and you need to Stand Your Ground, Whan is not the one you want holding the AR-15.

Andi's family is even more white and scrubbed than Rootsy's.  Dad LITERALLY looks like a bullet and there are probably not a lot of Obama voters in this household.  The producers are trying to make it look like Dad is some kind of maniacally confrontational asshole but he's actually just NORMAL in that he's somewhat suspicious of the idea of his daughter marrying some dude she's been on ONE date with.  Meanwhile, Mom is MILFing on Whan and touching his arm and asking him to dance and Andi literally throws herself between them like Jesus Mom you're embarrassing me please stop touching the foreigner.

Next we travel to Sarasota Florida and during the Establishing Shots they show the skyline and beach and WHOA WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS THING

In case you can't tell, that's not people recreating the famous picture, it's some kind of nightmarish public art thing that looks like it's about 40 feet tall and hopefully will one day come to life and trample the hapless citizenry.

(Oh God, it's 25 feet tall and somebody paid half a million dollars for it.)

Anyway, back to our regular horrifying thing.  Mom Renee is here.  "I'm going to literally eat my son when I see him" she says.  Your cannibal cult activities will not play here Renee!  Admittedly, her reunion with the kid is pretty cute, despite her failure to literally eat him.  They're at his little league game, and son Ben reports that he plays "shortstop, pitcher and catcher mostly" and JESUS CHRIST let's get this team some more personnel because Ben is stretched a little thin.  Renee's family seems OK.  Mom is clearly one of those ice-clinking-in-the-cocktail-tumbler-at-3-pm types and they're all fine and nothing happens.

Our last stop is beautiful Sacramento, the Kansas City of California.  Here's Krazy Klare and Whan says "I can't wait to see why you are the way you are."  ME TOO WHAN.  There's a strange interlude with something about dead Dad and then we're throwing rocks at the hapless geese in the pond and then off to meet the fam. HOLY SHIT IT'S A TON OF CHICKS.  Luckily they're all wearing different pastel colored shirts so we can tell them apart.  Sister # Whatever says "My dad was the ultimate Southern gentleman and Juan Pablo seems that way to me."  Yeah, if you KEEP GOING FARTHER AND FARTHER SOUTH.  Sister Green Shirt is officially here to piss on Clare's parade.  She thinks Clare is "manipulating Mama" who is apparently a mute and then hides in the bushes to make sure nobody talks to Mama?  Or something?  SGS makes Clare look like a Zen master.  Whan wants to talk to Mama and when SGS tries to body check him he uses the soothing tones you would use to calm a frightened animal or a schizophrenic and this seems to work.  Oh, Mama speaks Spanish!  Perfect, they can discuss how Venezuela is caliente, no I didn't make that up.  Mama actually has more sense than the rest of them combined.  Clare and Whan top it off with a makeout sesh that suggests she might violate the No More Fucking rule right there in the driveway.

OK, let's shoot this horse in the head.  We're in Miami and Whan reads a script about everyone's "amazing family" and whatnot.  First Rootsy then Krazy Klare and then since we've already seen 10,000 promos for tomorrow, we know it's Andi and not Mom.  Bad choice dude, now who's gonna therapy the other chicks when you don't have time?  Renee is on her way out and says "There are actually men exist like him" which yeah, I guess so.

Tune in tomorrow for some shocking something blah blah blah shoot me.

Put-Upon Billionaire? COME TO MY SEMINAR!

Man, it's getting tough out there for an unfathomably wealthy plutocrat.  If we're not getting Kristallnachted, some dumpy burg is getting stingy all of the sudden with hosting our yacht race!

That's why I'm offering this special weekend-long seminar for us, entitled "Fun Percent for the One Percent."  Join us at a to-be-disclosed later location, where you'll dine on five-star cuisine, enjoy a relaxing round of golf or polo, hunt the occasional endangered species, and have the opportunity to participate in one of our many course offerings, such as:

Selecting the Right Summer Place This Summer

Aspen, Jackson, Hamptons, Lille?
Which summer house fits the bill?

Do you find yourself perpetually confused about which summer place to go to after a long spring looting pension funds and counting your profits from hedge funding?  In this session, we'll work together to figure out which retreat works best for you.  (It is helpful, but not required, to have at least three options to select from.)

When Your Civic Leader Won't Heel

Is your paid-for mayor, senator, congressperson, or UN delegate not returning your calls immediately?  ARRRRRGH SO FRUSTRATING.  We've all been there.  Let's explore the best ways to correct this annoying behavior, whether it be the rapid application of campaign cash funneled through the children of your employees or the charmingly old-school junket to Hong Kong.  (NOTE: Please have the names of your civic leader's wife and offspring available.)

G4 No More!

Oh no, are you still riding around in a G4? Don't let Ellison catch you in that hooptie!  Let's get you set up in a new ride.  Maybe a Dassault Falcon 7X for those short trips.  When you've got a long haul to Davos, though, it's a Boeing or bust!  Just ask Larry Page.  He doesn't go anywhere without his 767.  Anything less and you might as well be riding the bus!

Meh.

Spanish for Maids and Gardeners

Boy, if I had a nickel for every time I needed to tell Luis "Careful with that topiary!"  In this brief class, you'll learn a number of useful phrases, such as "Please bring the brie to room temperature," "I spilled some yuan in the study, please clean it up," and "If you're using the leaf blower, direct it towards Benioff's yard."

How to Write an Op-Ed

Need to vent a little bit about how the hyenas and worker drones are insufficiently appreciative of the gifts you lavish upon them?  In this session, we'll learn about how to craft the perfect Mr. Burns-style outrage piece.  You'll learn such phrases as "know their place," "look at all I've done for you" and especially "I'm the real victim here."  Breakout sessions with Greg Gopman and Tom Perkins ("Perkie").

Is That An Art? I Want to Buy An Art

Nothing says fabulously wealthy like having a one-of-a-kind piece of art, but how do you pick?  Stupid Steve Wynn bought all the good stuff already!  Let's look at what kind of unbelievably overpriced not very good art makes a perfect Fuck You World purchase.  If you think spending $75 million for a cantaloupe submerged in a pitcher of Tang makes sense, this is for you!  FEATURED: Damien Hirst, Jeff Koons.

If you get a chance, please stop by the Scion Locator Booth, where we'll help you determine, in case you've forgotten, which boarding school you sent your overprivileged child to.  "Choate!," you'll exclaim, slapping your forehead.  "Of course!"

Oh God, here comes Bill Gates.  He's the worst!  Luckily, you can duck into our Philanthropy Avoidance Chamber for a quick glass of Krug 1928 and a dollop of caviar.  Bonsoir!

Either Glenn Dickey or me is confused about hydrology

"Me is confused"? What am I doing? Anyway.

Examiner scribe Glenn Dickey does not like the idea of the new waterfront Warriors arena planned for Piers 30-32.  And he has some reasons why.  He hates progress, basketball, and fun!  No, not really.  Oddly, he's concerned the new arena will FLOOD THE CITY, literally:

I believe this is a bad idea for several reasons. One is that a huge amount of concrete will have to be poured into San Francisco Bay to provide support, raising the water level for a city that is already threatened by the potential of rising water with climate change. 

Wait a minute. Maybe I'm reading this wrong, but is he saying that pouring a lot of concrete into the bay will make the water level around San Francisco go up?  I THINK THAT'S WHAT HE'S SAYING.  Based on my very limited knowledge of hydrology, I don't think that's how it works.  Let's look at a diagram.

OK, so as I understand it, even if you pour a shitload of concrete in at Piers 30-32, I'm almost 100% sure that's not going to flood the Financial District, because all the water that the concrete displaces is just going to flow out underneath the Golden Gate Bridge into the Pacific Ocean, right?  I mean, every time one of those huge container ships sails by, do you notice water sloshing up over the Embarcadero?  What am I missing here?

That's all I've got.  Have a great weekend.

BarGuessr

By now, we've all played GeoGuessr, the insanely fun game that uses Google Street View to plop you down at some random place on the globe and then challenges you to figure out where you are.  Hey, look, the billboards are in Portuguese, but it looks like crushing poverty, so must be Brazil!  That hotel sign looks like German so it must be.....Germany.  That kind of thing.

Well, that's fun and all, but it lacked one component that I find essential: ALCOHOL.  And thus BarGuessr was born.  The idea is simple: below you will find Google Street View shots of 6 bars in the world (OK, in the US or Europe).  You simply figure out where they are.  You can't go in and click around like in GeoGuessr, so it's harder, but the highly well-traveled and well-lubricated readership of this blog should have no problem.  Plus I'll give you clues.  One other thing: I have been to every single bar pictured below.

[1] First up we have bar that's actually in a hotel, so here's the front of the hotel. I saw Uma Thurman here once.

[2] The mural here apparently changes,because it was a whale when we were there. I like how the Google Street View face-obscuring algorithm nailed the chick painted in the mural.

[3] This place has a nice beer selection and also the gimmick that they let you send a free postcard anywhere in the country. Or at least they used to.

[4] This depressing little dive sometimes features live music and always features lonely alcoholics.

[5] This one is basically impossible.  It's not in the US, and yes, that is a real castle in the background.

[6] WHEW, back to our country.  This is the easiest one; the goddam name is on the awning.  The more game among you will try to figure it out without immediately resorting to Google.

[7] Finally, this is an iconic rock club.  Note the tour bus outside.

That's it!  Good luck.  Leave answers in the comments.  Winner gets something, I don't know what.  I'll title a blog post after you and write about the topic of your choice.  If you were inside any of these bars with me, you are not eligible to win.  Take it up with God; life is unfair.

The Bachelorette: If this dipshit doesn't stop with the godawful "poetry" we may all have to quit

About 18 million years ago, volcanic activity began to create the island of Madeira which was all part of God's Plan so that one day a low-functioning adult could peer off the side of a boat and exclaim "Look at the fish in the water!"  And so we carry on. 

We begin with some guests from last season!  Oh, here's the winner, air quotes, Catherine, who has not shied away from the dessert table since she got engaged to Big Dumb Sean and also a couple of runnerups, Lesley and Jackie, who was barely around for a cup of coffee.  They engage in some forced-giggling faux girl talk and obviously there is some time to kill in this episode.  Nice seeing you guys, anyway.

Solo date with Brooks, who probably owns stock in a mousse factory.  Sadly, they are forced to drive around in one of those little toy cars while Des giggles and narrates in that annoying way that people who read signs as you pass them do.  They have some picnic up on a mountain and both quickly deploy all their cloud jokes.  This is so boring.  At the Outdoor Candlelight Dinner that night, Des is wearing some faux snakeskin sequined miniskirt that isn't doing her ass any favors and Brooks is already talking hometown dates!  He yammers on about how his family is so close blah blah blah at least I think that's what he's saying, he's a mumbler and I can't make it all out and it's boring as fuck anyway so who gives a shit.

Solo with Chris, I think that's his name, the Awful Poetry guy.  They're going on a boat, or, as Chris says, "chillin' boat style, drinkin' some vino," and we have a new winner for the WHITEST THING EVER SAID ON TV, beating out all seven seasons of the Bob Newhart Show.  If they do the "King of the World" shit that everyone now feels compelled to do whenever they're within 50 yards of a boat I am BLOWING SHIT UP.  She thinks he is a "great looking guy" so Jonah Hill must look like Ryan Gosling to her.  At a picnic somewhere, our worst nightmares are realized because they are going to WRITE A POEM TOGETHER.  Oh Jesus.  They don't even try to rhyme anymore, so it just comes out like someone cut up a bunch of Hallmark cards and then taped the words together randomly.  "Together love always we is experience share" and shit like that.  At Candledinner, Des is sporting a different sequined skirt and oh God he has ANOTHER FUCKING POEM.   Oh, this is the one where he tells her he loves her.  I would have loved to see him workshop this one.  "One of the colors I know is blue/And also I love you," no, no, that's not right, "A Japanese island is called Honshu/So I love you."  CLOSER! 

Date with Michael, the whiny 12-year-old diabetic tattletale.  Ugh, he is wearing a button-down tucked into khaki shorts and flip flops, pretty much the prototypical Douche Uniform.  For some reason we are sledding around? The fuck?

Sadly, this thing doesn't tip over or explode and so it's off to dinner where Michael talks about his absent Dad too?  Wait, is that new?  I thought his thing was the diabeetus.  Did he decide to go Absent Dad like all the others?  Then he tells a moving story about his ex cheating on him with some guy in Vail.  I'm on your side, sister.

Let's Double Our Fun with Drew and Human Skull.  Drew says "if you don't get the rose at the end of this date it's going to be stressful" so maybe Drew is rooting for Human Skull too?  They're going go-kart racing!  After the 3 of them take a spin, Des says, "How about you two go at it? Then you don't have to worry about me getting in the way."  Drew likes this idea A LOT!

Then we have a picnic and whatever and oh look, Human Skull has made some drawings!  They appear to be crude representations of places they have been.  VERY GOOD, HUMAN SKULL!  Also, Drew wants Des to meet his severely mentally handicapped sister.  She's probably like Niels Bohr compared to this crowd, so that should be no big thang.  Also a killer way to get a rose, which he does.  Smooth.

Following a brief pre-Rose confab with Chris Harrison, where I think she says Brooks is the current points leader, off to the Rose Ceremony.  Hey you guys, is this season going especially fast or something?  We're already at Hometowns next week?  I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong.  Anyway, what the fuck is Chris wearing?  It's like a Goodwill blazer turned inside out.  Does he not own a suit?  OK, Brooks, then Chris, then Human Skull.  Good riddance, Michael.  In the exit interview he's all sweaty and teeth-clenchy like he dipped into the Evidence Coke.  In the Crying Van, he calls Mom to tell her he got dumped!  "That's ok, sweetie pie," she says.  "She doesn't know what she's missing.  Now come home and I'll make you Fruity Pebbles."

Oh, in the previews for next week we see Des's tweaker bro, so hopefully he will liven shit up next week.  Somebody get that man a pipe!

The mysterious changing mural

Awhile back, I wrote about the big mural at Eddy and Polk, remember?  I liked it a lot.  Still do.  Here's a picture from that post:

Turns out the guy that painted it is kind of a big deal ("Aryz sits alongside names such as Banksy, JR, ROA and Blek le Rat") and SF Weekly wrote the whole thing up with lots of details I didn't know, like that.

But wait!  Look closely at another picture of the mural from Tenderlife, one of my new fave blogs:

Notice anything different?  No?  I'll tell you then.  The little man that the lady was clutching in her fingers has been magically transformed into a much more innocuous apple.  What happened?

First they came for the macrophiliacs, and I did not speak out . . . .

Cool new mural at Eddy & Polk

You know, where the combination KFC/Taco Bell is.  I would describe the crowd at that place as "vibrant."

Here's a big shot:

Wait, what is she holding?  Is that a little man?  What's going on here?

It's cool-looking, whatever's going on.  Here's a closeup of the face, looming up behind Brenda's.

Nice, huh?

Oh wow.  There's a Tenderloin blog called "Tenderlife" that I've never heard of before that is also featuring this mural.  Look here.

UPDATE!!!!!: I got a very nice email from Alaina at WallSpaceSF, the organization that, along with Fifty24SF Gallery and Upper Playground, made this whole thing happen.  She wanted you guys to know that artist's name is ARYZ.  I guess it's all-caps; that's how she wrote it.  ARYZ.  Anyway, great job, WallSpaceSF and ARYZ.

In a related story, I have owned several Upper Playground hoodies and can report without bias or influence that they are a superior product.

We're in Chicago.

As you may have gathered if you follow me on the Twitter, we're in Chicago. I'm actually typing this on The Wife's iPad in occur hotel room which is not an ideal way to do this so sorry if this post doesn't live up to the normal High Standards you have come to expect from this blog.

Also, I can't figure out how to get pix from the iPad up to Blogger so you'll jus have to imagine this post is full of well-composed shots of various Chicago stuff.

[Pic of those two round buildings that are on the cover of "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot"]

SO. Chicago. It's great! I mean, I've been here before, but that was just for the Pitchfork festival a couple of years ago and we didn't really do anything besides go to the festival and the hotel. This time, we have more time and not a dedicated event to go to.

OH CRAP I just hit "PUBLISH POST" by mistake. Sorry if you read the first part of this post and thought it sucked and ended suddenly.

Rather than a long boring recounting of everything, here are a couple of notes:

1. The Art Institute is amazing but terribly laid out. You are constantly going through the Indian art to get anywhere else. No offense, but I never want to see another Ganesh as long as I live. But WHOA here's a whole room of Gaugins and a whole room of Monets and HEY THERE it's a Jackson Pollock and over here is American Gothic. It's like the Greatest Hits of Art.

2. Everyone is super friendly. Waiters and bartenders especially.

3. Really hot here, but weather stories are boring so let's don't belabor that.

4. Breaks my heart to see people waiting in line outside a Rainforest Cafe. I mean, you're in a great food city! Which is not known for its jungle-themed cuisine! Try something local!

5. What you heard was true. Wicker Park is full of hipsters. Great neighborhood, though.

[Pic of tattooed bearded hipsters lounging at outdoor bar]

Sadly, we're leaving the city today and heading out to Deer Park or something for a Family Wedding this weekend. Sad Face. Although weddings usually have open bars! Happy face.

See you on Monday.

I Thought She Was an I, But She Was Really a K

Here's my new song! Hope you guys like it. I just realized that it won't make any sense if you don't live in SF. So to my non-SF readers, sorry. Just play along like you know what's going on.

I Thought She Was an I, But She Was Really a K

By TK

I met her one Sunday in line for Boogaloos
Ritual or Four Barrel, it's so hard to choose
She said she was an installer of experimental art
I told her I lived near 16th and Mission BART

CHORUS:

I thought she was an I but she was really a K
The parking permit on her bumper gave her away
With her tattoos and taste in brews I thought we'd be alright
But no, she was a secret K masquerading as an I

That night we were at my place; things were going fine
Smoking up some weed and drinking up some wine
I asked her if she lived nearby and she said "Oh no,"
"I'm not from the Mission. I live in Cow Hollow."

CHORUS

My worldview was shaken; my vision went awry
I felt like our time together was built upon a lie
She wasn't wearing yoga pants and didn't look all LA
So how could I have figured out that she was a K?

CHORUS

Now and then I'll see her drinking at the Lat
Talking to her Marina friends about how they're not fat
Maybe I'm superficial but it feels OK
At least I didn't get stuck accidentally marrying a K

CHORUS

Today's Worst Groupon of the Day

You knew this was eventually coming:

$97 for Intimate or Glamour Photo-Shoot Package with Print and Photo CD ($350 Value)

Glamour photography! Nothing says 1986 mall shop more than glamour photography. You know what the problem with glamour photography is? It works backwards. It's the only form of photography that can make otherwise totally attractive people look terrible.

See, they say you'll look like this:



But you're actually going to look like this:



Oh, wait, no you're not! What the fuck do you mean, "Women only"? THAT'S FUCKING SEXIST. THANKS A LOT, GROUPON. NOW MY DREAM OF BEING GLAMOUR PHOTOGRAPHED HAS DIED.

Is Groupon still a viable concern? I heard they fucked up their IPO real bad. The very last Groupon will be for Groupon itself and there will only be one for sale. WHOA DUDE THAT IS SO FUCKING META.

In conclusion, glamour photography is funny.

Local bloggers frustrated in search for post-museum drinks

Went with Jessica and Stephen to SFMOMA today to check out some art. If you haven't seen "The Steins Collect," what the fuck are you waiting for? Do you hate art and beauty? What kind of fucked-up person are you? Go see it. Anyway.

We got out of there around 3:30 and it's a beautiful day out and so we thought we might grab a quick drink. THIS IS WHEN THINGS WENT WRONG.

First thought: B Restaurant, in Yerba Buena Center. I knew it had outdoor tables and you gotta sit outdoors on the 3 days a year it's warm enough in San Francisco to sit outdoors. No dice. They weren't open until 4:30.

New plan: We will return to the Mission and get some beers at Rosamunde and sit on their front porch. BZZZT it's totally full when we get there because no one in the Mission has a job so a bunch of deadbeats and losers had already filled up the whole porch. Dorks.

Next plan: But wait! The Liberties has like 10 or 15 outdoor tables! Perfect! Quick walk there. Maybe 3 or 4 of the outdoor tables are taken. Plenty of room! Finally! We will realize our dream! So we walk in and there's one guy at the bar and the bartender and that's it. We're getting ready to order and she says, "Are you guys planning to take these outside?" And we're all "Yeah," thinking we have to order from a waitress outside or something.

"You have to order food to sit outside," she says.

Wait what. "Do we have to order, like, a LOT of food?" Jessica asks, not unreasonably.

"You have to order one item per drink." So we were all "You have got to be kidding" and left.

Now, seriously, The Liberties, are you fucking kidding me? You just lost the business of three heavy drinkers in an empty bar with at least 10 empty tables outside. Is that a good business plan? I get that you want to capitalize on your outdoor seating when it's nice out, but seriously, why fucking turn away business when the tables will just sit empty? I mean, who does that?

Also, I've sat at those outside tables plenty of times before without ordering food. So that whole thing was fucked.

(As you may have gathered, I'm off work this week so I've been taking the dog to the beach and all over town so much that he basically thinks we're going steady now and I'm also doing things like going to the museum on a Tuesday. Yes, I am taking a few days off but not leaving town but DO NOT say that word, the one you're thinking, that starts with an "S" and ends with "aycation." Do not say that word.)

Special 40goingon28 Food Edition.

I'm not a food blogger because I don't like quinoa and don't take cell-phone pics of my dinner, but I am a blogger who likes food and so sometimes I write about food and restaurants and shit.

You guys all know how important brunch is to me, so when I find a new Brunch Situation it feels pretty important. On Saturday The Wife and I went to Farmerbrown for brunch. Been there for dinner before and liked it but LOVED THE BRUNCH.

First off, we had a rez for 12:30 but there were a couple of assholes who linger over their waters for about an hour after they pay the check who were totally hogging our table but the host guy was totally apologetic and then gave us free mimosas when it got to be 12:45 because he could see that I was a little tightly wound and might have FREAKED OUT or something if it went much farther. So that was pretty nice.

For some reason, I love a good breakfast buffet (shout out to the Hotel Monteleone in New Orleans, still the best breakfast buffet I've ever had, WTF did you guys do to make that so fucking good?) and they have a sweet buffet at Farmerbrown for $16.50 apiece.

(I should also say that I was enjoying my second mimosa but The Wife ordered some kind of julep and then wouldn't drink it because it has bourbon in it and she didn't know that juleps are a bourbon-based drink and so I chivalrously traded my mimosa to her and took her julep and it was OK but I would have rather had the mimosa. Give her a break, she's not from this country.)

So in addition to the usual scrambled eggs and bacon, this buffet also had GRITS (pretty good, not the best I've ever had), pancakes, biscuits and gravy. and fucking FRIED CHICKEN which was really, really good. I totally went in saying "I'm sure I won't eat any more than I usually do" and that was a lie. I had 2 full plates. That shit was awesome. Highly recommended. They also have bottomless mimosas but I think they're like $14 and you'd need to be there a while to get your money's worth with that.

I also like the art:
Definitely going back. And see, I got this whole thing without using the words "gritty" or "colorful" because it's in the TL (corner of Turk & Mason). I also liked the hip hop the DJ was spinning. GO THERE AND HAVE BRUNCH.

Oh, other food thing. Last night I made roasted chicken and brussels sprouts. You want some good brussels sprouts? Quarter about a pound of sprouts. Saute about 4 chopped up slices of bacon until crispy, add the sprouts, salt & pepper, then add about 1/4 cup of water and cover and simmer for like 5 minutes, then uncover and keep simmering until the water's gone, like 5-10 more minutes.

Roasting a chicken's no big secret. Just melt butter and olive oil and pour it over that thing and stick a lemon half up in there and put the whole mess in at 425 for about an hour-fifteen. Then watch this:



This has been the Food Edition of 40goingon28.

Four things

I have a lot of thoughts and feelings today.

First, I love this story:

Teen Discovers Promising Cystic Fibrosis Treatment

A 16-year-old from the Toronto area used a supercomputer system to find a new drug combination that shows potential in treating the genetic disorder cystic fibrosis, and won top honors for his work.

Marshall Zhang, an 11th-grade student at Richmond Hill's Bayview Secondary School, received first place Tuesday (May 10) in the 2011 Sanofi-Aventis BioTalent Challenge, a contest in which students conduct their own research projects with the help of mentors.

Impressive, no? But the best part of the story is at the end:

Now Zhang and a trio of Montreal students who took second place for their technique for making sorbet without gelatin move on to compete against U.S. and Australian teams at the International BioGENEius Challenge in Washington, D.C., June 27.

That's right. FIRST PLACE: CURING MOTHERFUCKING CYSTIC FIBROSIS. Second place: Making sorbet without gelatin!!! SCIENCE. IT SOLVES THE WORLD'S PROBLEMS.

Second, have you ever wanted to see the inside of the Old Mint? Here's your chance! This weekend there's some kind of art show thing at the Old Mint and you can totally get in there and wander around and do whatever it is you do. Our pals over at Dusty Modern will even get you in for free if you're too cheap to pay the $5 admission. SUPER COOL!!!!!!

Third, there is no fucking way you will believe this, but Debra Saunders said some more stupid shit! SHOCKING, I KNOW. In her latest inanity, "Was Sarah Palin done in by Trig "birther" story?", Debra postulates that it was the (admittedly insane) rumors that Palin pretended to give birth to Trig to cover up her daughter's teen pregnancy that tanked Palin's credibility with the American people.

Oh, yeah, Debra, that is definitely what did it. It couldn't have been the epically disastrous interviews she did with Katie Couric or her repeatedly blaring absurdities on those rare occasions when she was able to form an English sentence or her sneering approach to, well, everything, or maybe quitting her job as the Governor of Alaska for no coherent reason at all, could it? Couldn't have been any of those things. No, it was probably a rumor about her kid's birth that maybe - maybe - 10 percent of the American public has even HEARD. God, the stupid never stops with Debra Saunders.

[Oh, and one more thing - even if, in some alternate universe that Debra Saunders calls home, the Trig thing really did bring down Sarah Palin, she fucking deserved it. Lest we forget, Palin supported Trump's ridiculous Obama birth certificate nonsense. As ye sow, etc.]

Fourth, I can't remember the fourth thing.

Have a good weekend, errbody!

Please forgive this brief foray into football

I don't usually write about football because I don't watch as much as I used to, having converted to baseball starting about 10 years ago when I first joined a Giants season ticket group. I leave football to Daisy. But this was just too hilarious.

[NOTE: The rest of this post will only make sense if you're an NFL fan in general and a 49ers fan in particular.]

From a Q&A with new Niners Head Coach/Franchise Jesus Jim Harbaugh, in today's 'Gate:

Q: What is your prototypical quarterback?

Harbaugh: "First of all, a competitive guy that's a winner, somebody that has great athletic instincts, somebody who is very accurate throwing the football, a quick-minded guy who can think fast on his feet and can make decisions quickly, someone who has leadership ability, an understanding of timing and can make really good decisions."

Q: Is potential free agent Alex Smith someone in the mix?

Harbaugh: "Yes, Alex Smith is definitely in it."

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Wait, does Harbaugh not know who Alex Smith is? The total fucking bust who everyone agrees has no future with the 49ers? The one who failed when given chance after chance after chance? He's "definitely in it"?

Let me translate for you, in case you're not a football fan. Here, I found this Q&A with the Director of the Museum of Modern Art:

Q: What do you look for when purchasing a work of fine art?

A: It must have a bold vision and something to say. It should be edgy and dangerous and challenge your perceptions of what art is, but must also have an inherent beauty that can't be quantified or explained. It must speak to the soul, as well as the eyes.

Q: Is art by Thomas Kinkade in the mix?

A: Yes, Thomas Kinkade is definitely in it.

I certainly hope this is some bullshit that's part of Harbaugh's master plan, because if he's serious, and you're a 49ers fan, be very fucking afraid.

Happy Valentine's Day, if you're into that sort of thing

Here are some cards you can print out and use. Just choose the one that matches your situation most closely:

The Bachelor: At least one of us had therapy to prepare for this nightmare

I actually wasn’t going to do this season until I realized that (1) it’s coming on during Sober January and because it’s SJ my life resembles that of a Bubble Boy with agoraphobia and there really won’t be much else to write about and (2) I don’t remember what 2 was. So I guess I’m stuck with it.

Chris Harrison tells us this will be the Most Shocking Season Yet! Does that mean they finally found someone normal to be on the show? Oh, no, it doesn’t. They found Brad, who’s been on the show before. That’s how bad it is. The selection of people who want to be debased on national television is so thin that we must resort to subjecting the same poor fucks to this treatment over and over.

Brad apparently “stunned and infuriated” people the last time he was on the show by – NOT MAKING THIS UP – not picking anyone at all. That’s right: America was driven to tears of rage by Brad’s refusal to marry someone he had known for 6 weeks on national TV. HOW COULD YOU FAIL US IN THIS WAY BRAD? The whole experience sent Brad into therapy. He’s better now or something.

Let’s meet some chicks! Dentist, Funeral Director, Nanny with Dead Father Issues, Executive Assistant who Has Live Father Issues and is Divorced, a self-described “Manscaper,” a Faux Vampire/Model/Obvious Child Abuse Survivor, and a Walking Lifetime Movie with a Dead Racecar Husband and a Girl named Rickie. Or Ricki. Or Rikki. This is not made plain. Because Dad was named Rickie. The Wife sums it up: “These are clearly the sociopaths from other seasons who weren’t picked to be on the show.” So mean!

Time for Brad to sit down with Chris Harrison and talk about his therapy. Blah blah blah his Dad was never around and said he was going to pick him up and then never did and then had him come live with him and then kicked him out. Brad, let me help you out:


Oh, here come the chicks he didn’t pick 3 years ago for a Fake Confrontation. They both sit with their massive engagement rocks proudly on display. As it turns out, he did not Ruin Their Lives. Chris Harrison looks a little disappointed. This shit is faker than WWE. He says they have made him a better person. That’s the Zoloft, silly!

OK, let’s meet the psychos. The first chick slaps him because America is Mad at Him and also she has anger issues and sees him as her Distant Father. I think. Nanny Ashley grabs his ass. She is a good influence on her young charges! Then we have some chick in Katy Perry shoes and a stripper dress. Ashley the Dentist flips her hair a lot and screams desperation. Madison has fake – I mean, I think they’re fake – vampire teeth. She is one big Bag of Fucked Up. I kind of love her.


Jackie the Artist wants him to pinky swear that he won’t break her heart. I’m guessing her “art” involves fingerpaints and gluing macaroni to construction paper. Desperita does a fake marriage proposal. That will make someone nervous!

Another round of 15. Jesus, this is a lot. Oh, it’s the Mortician! “I think you can make anyone look good,” Brad says. Especially the recently deceased! Jill leads right off with “I’m ready to get married.” Can’t believe she’s single! “J” says it’s her birthday. She is asking for a full name this year. Then more come. God they keep coming. Like locusts.

OK, time to meet and greet with the Ladeez. He has to explain the Last Show Bullshit over and over and over. SO FUCKING BORING. Oh, first appearance of the phrase “Here for the Right Reasons!” That’s a classic. I think I also heard “Not here to make friends” earlier. The Manscaper does a little Manscaping on his wrist. Thank God that was the extent of it. Horrific details about Male Waxing then follow. Artist Jackie is going to sing. This turns out to be not such a great idea. She is a Strong Candidate to be the Kasey of this season. Alli wants to know if her ass looks fat. Some chick keeps stalking Brad around and “stealing him away” over and over and it gets really creepy and depressing.

Lifetime Movie gets some alone time. She’s not willing to settle. Except for a loser with father issues on national TV, I guess! MADISON TIME!!!! She tries to come off as all normal which is challenging when you look like Count Chocula crossed with a Barely Legal model. She is serious about being here! And being demonstrably damaged.

OK, let’s cull some bitches. Nanny Ashley gets the First Impression Rose and gets to stay. Madison gets the Childhood Trauma Survivor Rose. Lifetime Movie and Manscaper and Dr. Hairflip and Morticia and The Slapper all get to stay. Sorry, if you have a Big Chin you will not be riding this ride. Britnee weeps openly. Believe me, Britnee, this is not the end of the road.

COMING UP THIS SEASON: We travel to exotic destinations to watch desperate crazy people hurl themselves at one another. Way to go, ABC!