Mission Mission

Attempting to create some separation in the lucrative bacon-wrapped hot dog industry, this aspiring vendor has put together a very classy setup for his customers.  You’ve really got to hand to him for trying.

Unfortunately, I’m not sure that gaudy banners and shade umbrellas (at night) are as important as merely occupying the spot outside Beauty Bar at 2am.

Previously:

Bacon Wrapped Hot Dogs at Street Food Fest

Jar of Hot Dogs

The SF Street Food Festival organizers learned a lot from last year’s food mob and consequently increased the size and scope of the event almost four-fold this time around.  Nonetheless, a bunch of people still showed up and there were fifty-deep (albeit delicious) lines for all of the booths (at least at 2:30pm).

Burrito Justice has some great panoramas of the festivities (as well as a history lesson, naturally) and points out that although the lines were long, they moved quickly.  However, I still can’t get over the fact that there were 50 people waiting in line for BACON WRAPPED HOTDOGS??!?? Really, the same ones that you can get at any corner in the Mission?  And don’t tell me they were waiting for the virgin sangria or pina coladas!

Finally, someone has come to the Mission with a message of truth.  According to SF Weekly’s The Snitch, someone, or something, was leaving DVD’s of The Obama Deception on the windshields of neighborhood cars Thursday night.  Good thing!  Prior to the other night, I am not sure anyone in the Mission realized that we were taken for pawns in the 2008 election, that Wall St. engineered the depression to “repossess the country,” Obama is merely a frontman for the financial elite, he wants a civilian national security force to militarize the country, and Obama shares Hitler’s socialistic and nationalistic ambitions.

Be sure to watch the trailer for the obligatory footage to Ron Paul and Dennis Kucinich.

(link)

Additional Reading:

• Obamanati.info: Beware of the Obamanati

Even though I have lived in the Mission for five years now, the first time I had a famous bacon-wrapped hotdog was last October. It was five beers in on a 12-beer night. It was deliciously disgusting. The mix of chewy bacon wrapped around beef entrails and smothered in mayo churns my stomach even today. Maybe it’s because girls don’t have that love for bacon that boys do. Or maybe it has to do with the fact that after eating said hotdog, I went to a friend’s dance party which led to the tell-all bacon-wrapped hotdog fart. Fortunately, most of the people at the party were vegans, so they couldn’t tell what or whom it came out of. But my bacon-wrapped-hotdog-eating partner-in-crime shook his fist at me from across the room. Maybe one day in an alcohol-induced trance, the smell will be wiped from my memory and I’ll be able to eat one again. Sigh.