Mission Mission

Our man at the scene Kai has the update:

Tiny memorial upon my arrival this morning. Glad to see the community mourning in a healthy way.

And it’s probably not a good idea to mess with the perpetrator:

She lives on Dolores St between 18th and 19th. Her name is Carmen Castillo. She harasses all the neighbors and frankly, she’s a bitter old crazy lady. She carries around an exacto knife, so be careful!

UPDATE: Further fun via Twitter:

@missionmission I might have a lead on swing slayer. Grumpy lady walks by hood tattoo shop, pokes head in, yells “don’t do it” and walks off

— David Covell (@davidnotdave) January 15, 2012

Previously:

Fun-hating grinch cuts down Valencia swing

I finally found that holy grail present for the girl (or, more likely in this case, woman) who has everything! The one thing she doesn’t have is a set of nipple cozies! Because there is no reason for her to have this!

So, if you know this girl and need to get her the final thing in her set of everything, this vintage pair of Niftee Nipple Warmers can be found at Stuff (150 Valencia Street) and can be purchased for $20. I just know she will be so happy because now she will truly have every thing and that is her dream.

Construction of the Bay Area’s newest launch facility is on time and under budget.

(click to zoom)

(I think we can all agree this is a better use of the park than the great strip miming travesty of ’11.)

Station SF-420 will be integrated into the Bay Area command and control system by summer.

Last week we met this old lady that leans out her window and demands that passersby remove takeout menus from her railing and chuck them in the street. Yesterday, our pal C’mon Pony happened past this same woman’s house, and the woman had a whole new demand:

This lady evidently does not like newspapers on her driveway either, as she leaned out her window (“Excuse me! Excuuse me!”) and asked me to throw it into the street this afternoon.

What’s next!?

The always entertaining quest to find horrendous 1995-era websites for local Mission joints yielded some surprising results when clicking on Mission Hill Saloon. Instead of a link to their website (which presumably doesn’t exist) I was offered an amazing deal at Mission Hills Dongguan, a mere 10,000 km away!

Furniture gone wild.

I’m walking down 20th Street minding my business when an old lady leans way out her big front window and shouts, “Excuse me! Excuuuse me!” I look up and she continues, “Will you please take that off my railing?” She’s pointing at this Chinese takeout menu. I wonder if she thinks I put it there, but then she says, “I tell them not to put those there, but they don’t listen.”

I go over and tug the thing off her railing. “Just throw it in the street,” she says, “They’re sweeping the gutters tomorrow morning.”

I held onto it and looked for a recycle bin, and then threw it in a trash can after seven blocks of no luck.

This Mission pickup line is a month old, but I just remembered it last night and it deserves more acclaim:

P.S. Can you work “Lapidge” into a pickup line? Show your work for full credit.

[via omgthemish]

Janebook wonders what qualifies in our interesting neighborhood:

But the fifth or sixth instance you hear some guy talk about moving weed like he’s performing life-saving organ transplants with surgical instruments he hand-whittled out of Mendocino redwoods …I can’t. I just can’t. I also find it adorable how they always faux-wistfully wish they had “a regular job.”

As someone with a menial “regular job,” I’m just gonna come right out and say I’d way fucking rather make five times as much doing something illegal — and I totally have options for doing that, but 9 out of 10 of them I’m sure involve donning patent leather and stepping on some dude’s nutsack, which I definitely don’t have the stomach for.

Would you have the stomach for it? Or are you wholly content with your “regular job”?

[Photo via Chinkerfly]

If you’ve walked past Deep’s (AKA Trikasaurus) house on Valencia street, you’ve probably seen Trixie, the chloroplast-fortified triceratops guarding in his custom parklet.

Ever wonder how she came to be? No, not extracted DNA from prehistoric amber deposits. Apparently the idea was a no-brainer pitched by his architect:

…as the parklet project was really making progress, Jane proposed doing a “succulent sculpture” for it. And since she was so dead-on about the parklet, I immediately said sure! I thought “Ummm – a what?” Jane excitedly explained that our parklet needed an artistic focus & that it should be plant based. At that point, seeing her vision completely, I said “sure!” I said “Ummm – hmm” & started trying to figure out how to say “no” to something she was so enthused about.

Ummm, yeah. Read on at Deep’s blog for the full story.