Famous among dozens
I removed three pairs of boxer briefs from my purse this morning. The bachelorette went well. It is decidedly easier than I ever imagined to find a man who will remove his underwear on a public street. Many thanks to Rich, Jed, and John, all of whom gave selflessly for the cause. Happy wedding, Ali.
SUGAR ON TOP
Another article up at The Morning News, please go and read it. Don’t Be Rude: Part II, Relationships.
So I’m planning a bachelorette party. Is anyone surprised that my Google search for:
San Francisco “straight male strippers”
produced zero results?
ELSEWHERE
Mark Eitzel has a particularly mesmerizing link list. Find out what death-row convicts order for their last meals, study the intricacies of bagpipe music in movies, gain unlimited access to My Little Pony GIFs, and explore the decaying buildings of Detroit. Go to his site and click on All for more goodies.
826 VALENCIA FUNDRAISER
Him: My shoes were just way over the top.
Her: Yeah.
Me: What are you getting?
Him: A Caramel Macchiato.
Me: You can’t do that.
Him: They’re so good though.
Me: Don’t do it.
He: I really want one.
Me: You can do it. The option is yours.
Him: I know. I shouldn’t.
Me: There are certainly more honorable ways to sacrifice your manhood.
MY BRAIN
Just returned from a beautiful wedding in San Diego. They were married in a Japanese tea garden, and they even took the time to write their own vows. Everything was perfectly lovely; I snuffled through the whole thing. But what I’ll remember most thirty years from now is my improperly puerile giggle when the bride and groom promised to “play with each other” for the rest of their lives.
I may be reading books written for college kids, but I’m still laughing at a seventh-grade level.
Scenario: Two recent high school graduates run into each other on the bus.
Characters: One tall guy with dirty hair, one short stout guy with a buzz cut.
Hey man!
Heeeeeey!
How you doin’?
Good, man.
I haven’t seen you since like, since like graduation.
Yeah.
What are you doin’ now?
You know, same ol’.
Yeah, but what are you up to?
Same ol’.
But what is same ol’?
Produce.
Yeah?
Yeah.
That’s cool.
‘Member the cafeteria?
Yeah man.
When I was working at the cafeteria, I used to hella hustle.
That was hella tight.
Yeah. Now that I’m a grown up, I don’t steal no more.
‘Member the Arizonas?
Yeah! I used to be like, one in both my pockets, one up my arm. I’d be like, want one? Two bucks!
You made hella cash.
That was hella tight.
Yeah.
Remember the mango ones?
Yeah! Those were good.
Yeah.
Frosh and sophomore years were cool. Then junior and senior year sucked.
Hella sucked.
I like the real world though.
Not me. I like high school because of all the girls. I was in ROTC. ‘Member Ingrid?
Yeah. But I like the real world better.
(tension mounting) Yeah. I like high school.
Yeah.
‘Member Anthony?
Ten years from now, I’m all, “Hey Anthony!” Here’s Anthony, “Who are you?”
(laughing) Yeah.
Do you ever talk to Anthony?
(coldly) I got no reason to talk to Anthony.
Yeah. He was talkin’ shit about you.
Fuck that.
Yeah. Fuck that too.
‘Member when I went in his house and took his wrestling thing?
(laughing) He was hella pissed.
Took his dog too. Starving ass dog.
That was his mom’s dog, right?
He was like, “What were you doing in my house?” And I’m like, “What? I practically live here! I’m practically your cousin!”
He was like all, “I’m gonna sue!”
(laughing) Yeah.
I had a friend who was a security guard and he got all hassled by his boss. He shoulda sued.
Like, sexual harassment?
No, just like he was a dick you know? So he quit.
Don’t quit! Sue.
This is America, man. It’s like capital of lawsuits.
Yeah like, touch my leg.
(Touches friend’s leg)
Now I could hella sue you for that. I would sue and get like $100. But I’d have to pay my lawyers too.
Yeah.
It’s not worth it, I guess.
Yeah.
A big group of seniors got on the bus, I think they were going down to visit Fisherman’s Wharf. About fifteen commuters quietly got up from their seats and went to stand in the back.
Go read her July 13 post about her dad at sarahheppola.com. Then read the rest of her site. Sarah is extra keen. Here’s an excerpt:
So when I get to Michigan, I said, tearing some bread, I thought I might spend some time in Detroit. Sometimes, when I am talking in a restaurant, I like to tear things. A paper napkin. The sweaty label of a beer bottle. I tear these things into pieces and put them in a pile of little white wads on the table. When there is nothing left to tear and wad, I arrange the pile in different shapes. A circle. A square. An S, for Sarah. Tonight, I am breaking up pieces of crust in front of me. If you listen closely, you can hear the tiny clicks of my fingernail on the plate. So anyway, I thought we might talk a little bit about Detroit
You should talk to your aunt. My Dad tears off some bread.
Okay, I say (click click), but I thought maybe you and I could talk.
Talk to your aunt.
The clicks become louder and more frequent. Did you not grow up in Detroit? I ask.
He waves his hand. Eh. And then he laughs. It’s such a mystery to me, my father’s laugh. I mean, she’s the one who lives there and
I’ll call my aunt. Later, I will wonder why I cant stop crying about this, but for now, I brush my hands off and put them in my lap.
The waiter appears. Would you like something to drink? he asks.
We answer at once: Yes.
DON’T LET’S START
Went to a They Might Be Giants concert last night at the Fillmore. Everyone bounced madly and sang along. THESUNISAMASSOFINCANDESCENTGAS.
My life is officially a Passat commercial.
Sacramento seems to have an unusually high incidence of people expressing life views via bumper sticker: AA Is the Way, Jesus Is Lord and Savior, The Unborn Are Children Too. After a few hours of bumper gazing, I came across my favorite. It was a cartoon drawing of a monkey that read, “I fling poo.”
SPECIALIZATION
San Francisco is quiet on a Saturday morning at 7 a.m. Driving around, I saw a street sweeper, an ambulance driver, a woman lifting her bucket of cleaning supplies from the trunk. There are only a few people up this early on a weekend, and they’re the ones who make the world go. That means the majority of us are bystanders in the process.
Our relationship in ten seconds:
Me: I’m going to go look at magazines.
Him: I’m going to go look at beer.
Think of the people you know who have ancestors of ethnicities that don’t generally make babies together. Why are these people often more attractive than the rest of us? My theory is this: If you’re going to jump the race barriers and take on all the cultural crud that makes interracial dating so difficult, you’re only going to do it for someone who’s really, really hot.
Email subject header:
Maggie, do we have a synergy?
NO MONEY
Two old men stand on the streetcar island waiting to board. One is wearing a straw fedora, the other a newsie cap.
Man 1: I ain’t got not money. You got money?
Man 2: (Shrugs.) Guess we got to walk then.
Both: Hahahahahahaha.
(Short quiet conversation with bus driver ensues. The men climb aboard.)
M1: Hey, who’s that girl I saw you with?
M2: Who dat?
M1: The girl in the park.
M2: Oh.
M1: That Romie?
M2: Yeah.
M1: So Wapbopadeebot?
M2: HA! Yeah, man. Wapbopadeebot. It’s birthday time.
Both: Hahahahahaha
M1: You know Tony Bennet sang that song, I Left My Heart in San Francisco?
M2: What about it?
M1: Well you left your heart in…
Both: hahahhahaha
M2: Man, I ain’t got no heart. Jus somethin poppin in my chest.
Both: hahahaha
M2: Streetcar Named Desire more like it.
(They sigh together.)
M2: Man, I don’t even care. I’m on vacation. I got me a week off.
M1: Where you goin?
M2: To sleep.
M1: Sleep is right. You doin a lot of sleepin.
M2: Yesiree Bob.
Mighty Girl 