Prices slightly higher in Times Square and Hell

HEY-O!!! IT'S RED LOBSTER SEAFOOD FEAST TIME AGAIN!!!!!

Whilst recently watching some network TV (probably the Bachelorette, God help me, that feels like my fucking job half the time), I happened to see an ad for Red Lobster's special Seafood Feast, wherein one might get a 4-course dinner for $15!!! THAT'S A HELL OF A DEAL. I couldn't find the ad online (because, what, there is nobody in the United States uploading all Red Lobster ads on YouTube? FUCK YOU AMERICA GET TO WORK. Sure, we have this one - FROM 2009 - or this one - FROM 1986 - but nothing for the Seafood Feast? WEAK.)

A N Y W A Y, there is a curious disclaimer at the end of the ad, reproduced here in their online advertising thing:



Now, ignore, if you can, the prospect of some signature New England Clam Chowder followed by some Shrimp-and-Scallops Alfredo and look there at the bottom. See it?

PRICES HIGHER IN TIMES SQUARE AND HAWAII

Now, Hawaii I can understand. It's very expensive to ship frozen processed seafood to an ISLAND CHAIN SURROUNDED BY AN OCEAN FULL OF FISH. It must take tons of fossil fuels to deliver each savory bite of parmesan-crusted tilapia to your table in Honolulu.

BUT HERE'S THE THING.

If you are in New York City, and you go to eat at Red Lobster, KILL YOURSELF. And not just because prices are higher in Times Square! But because you are in one of the greatest dining destinations in the World and you have chosen to drop off your hard-earned dollars in one of the crappiest chains there is. I don't eat a lot of seafood and I don't live in New York, but I will bet you ANYTHING there is a better seafood within walking distance of Times Square that's either comparable or cheaper.

Now I'm not some "Oh, I wouldn't dare eat at a chain" kind of snob. When I'm in the South, I loves me some Cracker Barrel and don't even get me started on Krystal. I want to open a Krystal here and CLEAN THE FUCK UP. I have been known to partake of In N Out, although I fail to see its mysterious allure, and fuck it, I'll throw down at McD's when the time is right.

But here's our standing deal: When we're traveling somewhere, NO CHAINS. C'mon, you've gone 500 or 1000 or 5000 miles away from home and the best thing you can think of is to have lunch at the same place you can hit while you're waiting for your car at Jiffy Lube back home? COME ON MAN.

[DISCLAIMER - I've never really traveled to the Far East and I guess if you went to China and all you had was squid eyes and catfish roe and dirt patties for a week, I could cut you some slack on posting up at KFC. But you're on an Intra-American trip, I'm pretty strict on this. NO CHAINS.]

[Second disclaimer - In the interests of exploration and reportage, I did hit up Supermac's last time I was in Ireland, which is like the Irish equivalent of McDonald's. Terrible. But none of the food in Ireland is any good. Well, there was this vegetable soup at this pub in Gerrykennedy that was really really good. But that's about it.]

The Bachelorette: More of this Bentley crap and frankly, everyone's fucking sick of it now

Like Romeo and Juliet, this season of the Bachelorette has also been all about star-cross'd lovers, although instead of the Montagues and Capulets, we have a relentlessly perky future dentist from Maine and a heavy-lidded sociopath from Salt Lake City with a daughter named "Cozy." This season has been all about Ashley Chipmunk and Bentley and we are reminded of that fact by his name coming up about 10 times in the first 3 minutes of this episode and as it turns out ABC has flown him to Hong Kong, the next stop on our Worldwide Tour, and I am hoping for a murder-suicide but will no doubt be disappointed. Instead, Chipmunk goes to see him in the hotel and I guess he sort of dumps her or something and anyway she walks away to this swelling music that is meant to make us think that she is a Soaring Bird Who Will Fly Away With Love. She also sums it up with a bleeped "fuck you" and would have come in handy, oh, THREE EPISODES AGO.

Let's get back on track now. Solo date with Lucas, who has never been to any big city, so Hong Kong should be a good start. Chipmunk must be feeling better because she's back to spouting her usual inanities like "Look at the street market! People are selling things!" (ACTUAL QUOTE, NOT MADE UP.) Very good, Ashley! What does the cow say? Then they have some dinner on a boat and he tells his boring divorce story and whatever. Why did I decide not drinking on Monday nights was a good idea?

Group date time. The 6 losers are separated into groups of 2 and then electrocuted on the beach. No, wait, I was just imagining that. No, instead they must fan out in Hong Kong and recruit people to man dragon boats for a race. A surprising number of locals have Prior Dragon Boat Experience! It must be like Rec League softball there. Anyway, then there's a dragon boat race that's about as interesting as a rerun of the McNeil-Lehrer Report from 1981. For the Night Portion of the date, we are off to some Vegas hotel-looking bar where Ames yanks Chipmunk into an elevator and does what I guess he imagines the humans think is romantic. Seriously, this guy is SO FUCKING WEIRD. He's like a bad actor trying to play someone who's uncomfortable all the time.

Solo date w/ JP. They're having dinner in "Kowloon Walled City," she thinks but I don't think so because "demolition began in March 1993 and was completed in April 1994." Oh, wait, I guess there's a touristy replacement thing. Anyway, usual outdoor dining thing. God forbid we go more than 10 minutes without a Bentley reference so she tells him all about her meetup with Bentley and JP nods all understanding-like and he's all like "Thank you for your honesty," you crazy fucking basket case. Then they take some tram up to the top of this mountain and HOLY SHIT THERE'S THAT SAME GUY FROM EVERY SUBWAY STATION PLAYING THAT CHINESE INSTRUMENT THING. You cannot get away from that guy. He is stalking us all.

Cocktail Party! Holy shit, things are busting out all over with Chipmunk and the Breastanator 5000 dress she's rocking. Lest another second pass without a mention of He Who Is Called Bentley, she repeats her fucking Breakup Story to the whole group and ABOUT FUCKING TIME instead of cocking their heads to the side and saying "Awwwww," THEY PISSED. Good for you guys! Chipmunk deploys the Girl Natural Defense Mechanism, crying alone quietly, but they ain't having it. Mickey's all "I don't know what you saw in that guy" and bounces! Good for you, man! Blake gets all pissed too but then he realizes this isn't really helping but it's too late because once you're mean to Ashley she will love you forever never forgive you. He gets cut.

Exit interview: Blake says, plaintively, "I just want a friend." Blake, you need to be on "America's Next Top SPCA Rescue" because WE ARE NOT HERE TO MAKE FRIENDS.

Are we going to get anything for those AT&T utility boxes? Does anyone know?

As you no doubt know, Telecom Giant and Notorious Provider of Craptastic iPhone Service AT&T wants to install 726 huge fucking ugly graffiti magnets all over the city. 726 is a lot of boxes! These vertical outdoor urinals will be 4 feet high, a little over four feet long, and a little over two feet wide. In other words, a grey monolith the approximate size of a Vespa, but without the annoying little twerp in the scarf.Photo illustration with helpful dimensions courtesy of the SF Appeal, who doesn't know I'm using it but are hopefully cool with that.

Now, the last thing I want in SF is 700 of these sidewalk-blocking pieces of shit clogging up corners all over goddam town, but I'm sure in the end AT&T will end up getting their way and we'll have all kinds of new obstructions and places for kewl wheatpastes and for hobos to throw up on. Here's the one thing I can't find out from any article:

WHAT DOES THE CITY GET OUT OF THIS DEAL?

Hopefully someone out there knows and can tell me. What I can tell you is that, at a minimum, San Francisco should be getting $13,500 a month from AT&T in rental if this goes through. Honestly, if our feckless Board of Supes had any fucking balls, they'd say "Sure, AT&T, put your boxes up. FOR A MILLION BUCKS A MONTH. Take it or leave it." But they won't do that.

So at least ask for $13,500 a month. These boxes have a footprint of about 9.2 square feet, so 726 of them are a total of 6,679 square feet. Here's a house near Alamo Square with "almost 7,000 square feet" that's renting for $13,500 a month. SOUNDS FAIR. So that's the MINIMUM fucking price the BoS should extract from International Devourer of Souls AT&T.

[USUAL DISCLAIMERS: If part of this deal is some huge cash injection into the city that I just don't know about, apologies all around and I'm sorry I called you "feckless," Board of Supervisors. You should be publicizing that! But if you can't even get market rate rent, you are more fucking hopeless than I thought. Also, fuck AT&T. You think they're going to force Comcast to lower their rates? Yeah, maybe for a month. Then, 6 months later, everyone will be charging the same and we'll have these Toilet Towers all over town for no reason.]

In which I discover the mysterious allure of auto racing.

ATTENTION FELLOW COASTAL ELITES:

I have journeyed into what passes for Middle America around here and have returned with some stunning news:

AUTO RACING IS SUPER BADASS.

Like all of us, I have made fun of NASCAR forever. I mean, who could possibly enjoy watching cars go around and around for a couple of hours? THAT'S STUPID. But guess what? It's like hockey or strippers or Bananas Foster. YOU HAVE TO SEE IT IN PERSON TO GET THE APPEAL.

Backstory: The Wife won this trip thing at work. Basically it included a night at this hotel in Santa Rosa and a big group dinner (for like 30 winners in her industry) at Johnny Garlic's, one of celebrity chef/professional irritant Guy Fieri's places, and then going to the Thunder Valley Casino Resort 200 at Infineon Raceway in Sonoma on Saturday.

So I take it that it's kind of the minor leagues for NASCAR but I don't really know anything about NASCAR so I don't know how the whole thing works. The "real" NASCAR race with the famous drivers is on Sunday and that apparently is when 100,000 people show up and I hate crowds so I'm glad we weren't going to that. ANYWAY we got to watch it from a "Tower Suite" with free food and booze and they could have fat guys racing lawnmowers and if there's free food and booze I'd watch it.


That guy in front waving was the guy who put the whole thing on. Super nice guy.

So before we were all "Yeah, whatever, auto racing" but then you get there and the cars are whizzing by at like 100 mph and it is fucking DEAFENINGLY LOUD if you're outside and I don't know, there's something really cool about the whole thing. Early on I chose to be a fan of the #6 King Taco car driven by one Luis Martinez Jr. and at one point he was in 5th place but I think he finished last. After like 5 laps, I was totally into it, against every preconceived notion I had. Being in the Tower Suite probably helped with this but maybe it's cool just to be in the stands too.



So that's my discovery! Auto racing is fun! Now, I'm not sure I'm going to turn on the TV every Sunday or any Sunday at all and ever watch it again but seeing it in person is certainly impressive. Also, maybe this isn't typical of every race but by the end those cars were all beat to shit and had major body damage and parts hanging off them and shit. YAY FOR WRECKED STUFF.

(The less said about Johnny Garlic's the better. Part of this dinner was unlimited free wine, so that part was good. But honestly, Guy Fieri, is that was real "wagyu beef," I'm a cow.)

(Also, it strikes me as sorta funny that this is the most hetero thing I could possibly have done on Pride Weekend.)

I went to Oakland last night and saw some music and then my dog got attacked this morning (unrelated)

Let me just say preliminarily that I'm a little freaked out right now because when I took my dog for his walk at like 6:30 this morning we came around a corner and he got attacked by 3 bigger dogs. I got them off him and scooped him up and managed to yell "Put your fucking dog on a leash" before I saw that they had leashes on but I guess the chick walking them couldn't control her dogs. Last I saw as I was scurrying away was her chasing one of the dogs down the middle of the fucking street. My dog's back leg got cut and he was bleeding but now it's stopped but I'm kind of freaked out even though he's fine. Sheesh, being a parent must be fucking IMPOSSIBLE if I get this freaked out about my dog getting hurt. I don't know how you guys do it.

ANYWAY. Last night we went to see Okkervil River at the Fox in Oakland. I used to like Okkervil River. In case you're not familiar, it's semi-anthemic earnest guitar-based indie rock for white people. Seriously, I did not see a single Person of Color at the show. Not even an Asian. This must be what Iceland looks like.

So just a couple of observations about Okkervil River at the Fox Theater:

1. I say I "used to like" Okkervil River because I'm not sure if I love them any more. They kind of lost me halfway through their set when they did the obligatory Slow Portion with the lead singer Will Sheff just playing acoustic guitar by himself and then it went on and on and on with one dirge after another and it was SO BORING. Is it possible my attention span's gotten shorter as I've gotten older? How could that be?

2. Speaking of Will Sheff, it occurs to me that he sorta looks like Time Lincecum! Check it out:





Weird, huh?

3. I know I sound like a crank who just likes to bitch, but I have sung Okkervil River's praises in the past, so that's not entirely true. I mean, I am a crank who likes to bitch, but not just a crank who likes to bitch.

4. No, really, when I saw them at the Independent a few years ago, it was maybe one of the best shows I've ever seen! They were fucking KILLER. Significantly, there was no long boring part in the middle.

5. The encore was "Westfall" and "Unless It's Kicks," so that was good. "Unless It's Kicks" is maybe one of my favorite songs ever.

6. I like the Fox in Oakland. The floor level has these different levels that lead up to the bar and at one of them there are tables and chairs. Where anyone can just sit! Heaven for old people like me. And the usher in front of us kept shooing people OUT OF OUR SIGHT LINE like I was the Prime Minister or something! I must have clicked on some box to get this service when I ordered the tickets online.

7. The Wife drove. We made it back to SF in 15 minutes.

OK, gotta go to the 12:45 Giants game BRB.

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.)

The Bachelorette: Finally, somebody gets seriously injured

So we're still in Thailand and it seems that we're moving the whole operation to Chiang Mai, which features "many relaxing bars, several discotheques, live music venues and one street with hostess bars which cater to tourists." The Douche Alliance is installed in some faux colonial dump w/ Thai restaurant music and we see Ashley Chipmunk walking along and we're 4 minutes in before we get our first voiceover mention of Bentley, who continues to infect this show like malaria or fire ants.

Solo date with Ben F., "Sonoma winemaker," who really does look like one of the late stages in an "Evolution of Man" exhibit at the Natural History Museum. They take one of those DPT Cushman mobiles into town and visit the "Umbrella Making Centre," where I guess tourists can simulate producing consumer goods for America for 50 cents an hour. Then they sit in front of a Very Sacred Thai Temple where they're apparently not allowed to make out, so Chipmunk suggests they do a "mental kiss" and this is where The Wife said "This is like a fucking high school......oh...ugh, ugh....."

Cut to the Nighttime Part of the date. She's wearing a romper made out of a very ugly tablecloth. They have your usual Outdoor Dinner at some Thai place. He gets the #14 and then blabs on and on and on and on about his Dad dying and his feelings and whatever blah blah blah even Chipmunk looks bored until the Fire Dancers and Fire Breathers come out and she's like THANK GOD I don't have to listen to Mr. Here's Every Fucking Thing That's Ever Crossed My Mind any more.

Group Date. 8 douches will enter the ring and sadly 8 will leave. It seems that we are doing Muay Thai boxing, which sounds GREAT to me because someone might be killed or paralyzed and then I'll like this show again. They do some crazy Muay Thai workout for like 8 hours and Ames is all "Not the face, please! Not my beautiful face!" They divvy up some boxing gear and get in the ring in some public square in front of a bunch of Thai people who are all "Who are these fuckers and why won't they hurt each other? Fuck."

You just know Ames is going to get killed because he's a Delicate Flower and YEP he gets knocked around and is led to an ambulance and whisked away to a Thai ER room where I guess some powdered rhinoceros horn and some spells will fix him right up. Later, at the Nighttime Portion of the Group Date, Ames makes a dramatic reappearance and I think his "Portfolio Manager" career might be over unless the portfolio is Care Bears stickers because he looks fucked up real bad. Meanwhile, in a solo interview, William inexplicably says "Who has 2 thumbs and is gonna win the rose on the 2 on 1 date? This guy," pointing at himself because I guess Ashley made it clear she was only marrying guys with 2 thumbs. Ashley mentions Bentley about 12 more times and gives Generic Man Blake a rose.

DOUBLE BRO DATE. William and Ben C. raft Chipmunk down a river like it's "Apocalypse Now" or something and William talks all kinds of shit about how Ben C. said he'll "clean up" on those "dating websites" and fucking Chipmunk is just like REALLY OH THAT'S BAD and fucking gets rid of Ben C. RIGHT THEN. Like why would you believe that superdouche? Why does this girl do these things? Who knows. Oh wait, she says she didn't like him anyway. He gets the Emo Raft-Away instead of the Emo Limo-Away.

We segue into yet another Outdoor Dinner, this time with William. He gives everyone major creeps by saying he's a "30 year old boy" and she tells him to GTFO. Back to your fun life selling cell phones to a gullible mall-going public.

OK, back at the resort for the Pre-Rose. Chipmunk sits down with Chris Harrison and wants to talk about Bentley. Chris Harrison is just as pissed about this as all of us.

He wishes he could kick her off the fucking show and I do too. Let's bring in Chantal from last season to do some mop up because this bitch crazy.

Soul Patch Guy gets cut. I can't remember his name. You don't care anyway. Why didn't Ames get cut? The Wife knows: "You can't put him on a plane. His head would explode." I feel the same way.