Covet

I passed a store window in the Castro that featured a pair of socks with the slogan “I (heart) my penis” embroidered on each one. I must have them.

Down

On my way to the mailbox, I sighed and stepped over a baby bird that had fallen from his nest to the sidewalk. A few moments later, I noticed a well-dressed man walking in my direction. I could see from half a block away that he was talking to himself. We had just passed one another when I heard him mutter, “I’m still lonely.” So that was a bummer.

Pretty in Pink

Have you ever tried Pepto-Bismol? Even the name sounds like someone vomiting. Bismol. Biiiismmooooohhhhl. But when I’m about hoik up my intestines, I always think to myself, “Boy, howdy! What I could use right now is a nice little plastic cup brimming with pink, minty, viscous fluid.”

Elsewhere

The Case for Cocktails is my second piece for The Morning News. Cheers.

Superman or Chewbacca?

This is almost as addictive as Hot or Not. What’s Better
asks you to rate incongruous things. What’s better, a nuclear explosion or a bull elephant seal?

(via rabbit blog)

Discretion

A teenage boy ascends from the subway wearing a T-shirt that screams “I GOT CRABS AT TOMMY’S CRAB SHACK.”

For Sentimantal Reasons

The guy on the treadmill in front of me was muscle-bound, had a shaved head, and was wearing one of those tank tops with armholes cut down to his waist. He was reading “The Big Book of Torch Songs.”

What it Takes

From the March New Yorker article, “The Riddler” about a crossword puzzle competition. I love these people:

As referees brought in completed puzzles, Rosen and the other twenty or so officials scored the answers, pausing only to ridicule the occasional hapless entry.

“Who writes ‘skua’ with a ‘q’?”

“Eriq La Salle!”

“Wasnï¿½t he just on the over of GQ?”

“You mean GK?”

Lovely

Someone put soap in the Civic Center fountain. Wind lifted the bubbles and sent flurries into traffic.

The F-Line

The Muni line that runs up Market gets a lot of tourists. The trains are vintage Italian streetcars, they’re electric and run on tracks. Today, there are two trains on the same track. A tourist approaches the one in the rear and asks the driver, “Which train leaves first?” He blinks at her, then at the train in front of him. “This one,” he replies. She climbs aboard.