This world exists in the mind of local painter David Enos, who has a show up at Four Barrel through the end of July:
A bunch of recent paintings, still a couple up for sale.
Read on for more info and a few more paintings.
This world exists in the mind of local painter David Enos, who has a show up at Four Barrel through the end of July:
A bunch of recent paintings, still a couple up for sale.
Read on for more info and a few more paintings.
This is quite a thing, filmed yesterday right here in the neighborhood. It looked dumb at first, but then I ended up watching all 11:26 of this guy Flamenco, apparently a local business owner, walking up and down 24th Street telling us about his platform. He’s gonna create ”trillions of jobs” and ”legalize every immigrant” — and that’s just the beginning. It’s the most impassioned marginally intelligible stream-of-consciousness stump speech you’ll see all year (maybe):
If he gets on the ballot I just might vote for him. (Hopefully he goes into greater detail about his plans for abortion and gay marriage in his next campaign video.)
(Thanks, Jaison!)
I’m walking to Safeway to get some boxes of Watermelon Wheat to party with. At the crosswalk by the McDonald’s I’m joined by a man and a young boy. The man says to the boy, “They make McDonald’s so those people don’t go in the places we go. Those people need places to eat too.” My eyes go wide, but the boy is totally onboard: “Yep!” he exclaims, with a spring in his step.
And then…. They walk into Boston Market. This definitely gives me pause, but I’m not sure what exactly it means because I’ve never been in a Boston Market. (Because I’m from another social strata altogether apparently.) But it means something, I’m sure.
I fantasized later that I’d followed them inside. “You know why they make Boston Markets, motherfucker? So people like you don’t bother me while I’m eating my Chicken McNuggets!” (Or, I dunno, while I’m at Beretta eating my bruschette of crescenza and broccoli rabe. I really don’t know. What is Boston Market??)
At Saturday’s Believer/Tumblr event at the Makeout Room, there were more than a couple of stories about encountering crazy people on the streets of SF. Turtle-enthusiast/multiple-dog-owner Mills Baker read this entertaining piece about an aspiring religious musical songwriter and future mother of quintuplets:
Now that I think about it, everyone I know who lives in or has visited the city has a favorite crazy person story. I guess that’s one good thing that came from the Reagan administration.
This is what I’ve been wondering about since the project’s announcement. See for yourself — main screen downstairs, four little screens upstairs, no balcony (sad face):
As for the rest of the scene at Thursday night’s community meeting, you got a free bacon-wrapped hot dog for attending, it was fun being inside the dilapidated old place, and it was decently attended:
We got to hear some stories about the old days, when popcorn cost 25¢ and a hot dog cost 75¢ (and I was like, “Big whoop my hot dog tonight was FREE”), and then they spent 20 minutes assuring us this project will be good for the Latino community.
Anyway, I can’t wait to go to the movies on Mission Street!!!!!!!
#1:
Just farted at Flour & Water #YOLO
— OMG the Mish (@omgthemish) June 25, 2012
I don’t really read books, but if I did, I’d consider reading these, because I like these ads.
UPDATE: Artist is Owen Smith. Thanks, Schlub and Eric!
Oh man, and then you get to slather it in Southern Pacific Brewing Company’s bigger-than-life homemade ketchup? Paradise.
My mom texted me this photo that she took from her flip-phone camera while on her way to school (that’s JPL in the hazy background), demonstrating that the only thing needed to take your cat on a bike ride with you is a bit of training (and probably a thick scarf to give him something to plunge his claws into other than your neck).
Not bad considering the modest technology at her disposal! Don’t worry, I got her an iPhone the next day to ensure that her next find is a high-resolution masterpiece.
Previously:
Last night, in the middle of Pride Weekend, a sizable crowd of proud partygoers danced to music thumping out the window of an 18th Street apartment, blocking the street for cars between Guerrero and Linda. Things seemed mostly joyful, but at one point an SFFD truck came rolling up with bright lights shining onto the street party. The music abruptly cut off, the crowd moaned a loud “Awww!” and with perfect timing the fireman leaned out of the window and exclaimed, “I’m not breaking it up! Just driving through!” The crowd parted in the middle. He rode through and called back “Game on!” The music kicked back in and the crowd cheered.
Enjoy the rest of the weekend, everyone.