Mission Mission

Whoa, sorry we missed this back in campaign season! Apparently our boy Benny Gold was a big supporter of our boy our boy Supervisor Scott Weiner. At least I hope that’s what this means.

In any case, this remnant of some kind of fun remains in the bathroom at Poppp’s.

Bathroom art taken to the next dimension at the Makeout Room.  So anatomically accurate–this “MD” must be a doctor or something.

No? It’s better for you though!

Previously:

COCO LOCO

Sitting Room Only

Settling in at the restroom at Osha Thai I noticed that there were still two open seats. I guess you could invite the people standing outside the door to relax and wait inside? There’s no stall or anything, so it kind of seemed like anyone sitting there would just be judging my performance.

I know that sometimes restaurants just stash their extra chairs in the bathroom, but the way these two were placed really made me feel like they thought I needed some company. I know I’m overthinking it, but something about public bathrooms makes me turn into Woody Allen.

Well, it must have been, because they seemed to think they would have better luck on the girls’ side. Which, mind you, was already extraordinarily long, historically long, so long in fact that it began to encroach on our birthday picnic.

I’ve seen girls in the boys’ bathroom line before, cunning individuals who harness their multi-faceted powers of persuasion in order to be admitted into the quicker line, but I’ve never seen it the other way around.

Hmmm, perhaps they’re just being good boyfriends, sticking it out with their girls so the unfortunate females don’t have to endure the wait all alone.  Awww, now it’s kind of cute.  Sort of.  Cuter than the Dolores Park Peeper at least.

Regardless, I think we can all agree that the wait for the girls’ bathroom in Dolores Park is ridiculous. What ever happened to all those porta-potties?

Ladies, you tell us:  What’s the longest you’ve ever waited for the bathroom at Dolores Park?

Oh.  Thanks for clearing that up.

Spotted in the ladies’ restroom in . . . Palo Alto?  Those techie girls may be wilder than you thought!

Still, I feel like some folks may find this to be debatable.  Anyone care to discuss?  Anyone?  Bueller?

(Thanks Laurie!)

Subtle work, Jaut!

(You might remember Jaut from that time I went to a panel discussion featuring four real-live street artists.)

Previously:

Slices Go QUICK at Pauline’s Pizza 25th Anniversary Party [VIDEO]

Creative thinking or overthinking? “Only in San Francisco,” perhaps?

Ice Tubes says it’s just plain pretentious.

Before I go into the top Mission Mission post of 2010, I’d like to tell a story.

I didn’t have a dog or cat growing up. Instead, my parents got us a pair of hamsters. While these little critters aren’t blessed with the talents of learning tricks, episodic memory, or establishing meaningful relationships with their masters, you can put them in a ball and watch them roll around for a couple of hours of entertainment.

We never named them. One was a shy, chill hamster, and the other one was basically a big asshole. At first the bully beat up on chill guy. Then the chill hamster got pretty big and kept the other one in check. This was a good time that I refer to as the “time of serenity”.

The bully hamster didn’t take to this arrangement and eventually started putting in extra hours on the wheel working out. He got stronger, faster, and meaner. When the time was right, he came back in full force. Thus, “the reign of horror” began. The brutal beatings occurred on an nightly basis, culminating in the bully hamster gnawing off the genitals of the other.

My point is, there are some things that can’t be unseen. A hamster’s disfigured, bloody stump of a crotch is one of them. This year in the Mission, a lady shitting on her house is another.

1. Mission Resident Shits on Her Own Apartment Building

Short story: An anonymous reader caught his upstairs neighbor shitting in the alley of her apartment building.

Long story: When this one showed up in our inbox, we had a lot of questions: Who shits on her own house? Who takes pictures of someone shitting her own house? Did she, you know, wipe? These are important philosophical questions.

Perhaps more baffling than the actual act was the reaction by some of our commenters to the effect of, “Hey! Stop picking on this lady for having a bad day.”

Bad day? I mean, I’ve had to go pretty bad on the road a few times but I’ve always managed to deal with it in a socially acceptable manner. One would think that when you’ve made it to your house, you’ve done the hard part; getting to your bathroom is cake. But I’ll spare you any more, the entire scenario was dissected thoroughly with the 80+ comments here.

Little did we know that this story would captivate San Francisco, even earning us an award for “SF’s Best Photo/Twitpic” in the SF Weekly’s 2010 Web Awards (you can see our fitting reaction at sexpigeon). To use a tired cliche, “only in San Francisco” could a photo of an obeise lady dropping a deuce be considered “the best” of anything.

In the end, I’m not sure what we should take away from this. However, I will say this: we probably need more public bathrooms in the Mission, and less people with high-resolution digital cameras.

Happy new year!

This particular one is at Sunflower, and it’s in good company with a lot of other fun bathroom wall art. Do stop in.