Random things I’m finding amusing this week:

• There are a frightening number of otherwise intelligent men (both gay and straight) who would rather walk around the city like drowned rats than risk looking “effeminate” by carrying an umbrella.
• I can’t even make out with someone in a bar without realizing that (a) he has a boyfriend, (b) said boyfriend is watching us in a very unamused fashion, and (c) it turns out that I sort of know this boyfriend via email.
• There is, on Market Street in San Francisco, a building called the Bong Building.
• An email spammer advertising collection services was stupid enough to include his phone number in the ad. When I called to request (politely) that he not use this particular marketing technique again, he told me he had to run because my daughter was sucking his cock and he was about to shoot. He’s a true professional. Of course I would never advocate repeated phone calls which might run up his phone bill or anything like that, but his number is available upon request if you’re interested in his services.
• Heard from the mouth of one “oh so butch” leatherman the back room of a Folsom Street Bar Sunday night: “I was right here when I heard about Princess Diana’s tragedy… (sigh)… I almost had to leave”.
• At the Polk Street Rendezvous, the cops were called in to arrest an old man sitting at the bar. His crime, horror of horrors, was smoking a cigarette. The patron who called the cops was subsequently barred for life by the bartender, and may find he has trouble getting served anywhere on Polk Street for quite a while. (Thanks to Cavan for this one.)
• Cocoa Pebbles on sale for $1.99 at the Grocery Outlet. Yay!!!
• Redneck Earl’s Takeout Barbecue on El Camino Real in San Mateo definitely deserves a visit. They have sweetened iced tea. Those of you who are from the south understand why this is so (a) special and (b) unusual outside Dixie.

Things I’m NOT finding amusing this week:

• Dilbert.
• My checking account.
• Idiots who just moved to the city and really can’t drive, but do anyway.
• Those same idiots when they park.
• My savings account.
• Email addressed “Dear Adult Webmaster”.
• Valentine’s Day.
• Puddles. Everywhere…

I’m really amused at how excited I am about the current round of storms here. By the east coast standards of someone who has seen hurricanes, this El Nino crap is pretty tame. But in my five and a half years in San Francisco, this is the first storm I’ve seen which has been even moderately worth paying attention to.

To start with, there was thunder and real lightning, sporadic though it may have been. There was even actual real (almost) hard rain, but of course, this didn’t really compare to the east coast soakers which force even the most arrogant drivers to the side of the road.

All the same, it was pretty, unless you had to experience it as your house was sliding down a hill or rushing down a river. The roomie and I were inspired to make a quick beach trip during a lull on Saturday afternoon, in search of carnage, choppy seas, or at least the woman we’d been watching all weekend on the Weather Channel. We found the choppy seas, but settled on lunch at the Doggie Diner in lieu of the rest.

Aaah, the Doggie Diner on Sloat Blvd…it’s the last relatively-intact remnant of a mid-century Bay Area chain. One still stands in Alameda, but minus the defining doggie. The SF location, across from the zoo and now known as the Carousel, serves up great burgers and chili dogs, and makes you forget completely that you’re in the most pretentious city on the west coast.

People know each other here. People are friendly here. The guys are very cute in that semi-suburban way which says they haven’t yet bought into the wholesale fashion culture mandated east of Twin Peaks. Everybody in the place knew the guy shown above; they talked about how he was going to Chico State now. I had really intense cravings to follow him there, not just becuase he was fuck-gorgeous (which he was) but also because he looked like he was capable of having a really good time on the spur of the moment without getting too complicated or worrying about what he was wearing or how developed his pecs were.

It’s like this all over the Sunset, actually. I worked in the area for a couple of years and was amazed at how different the west side of town is. And while I’m not itching to pull up stakes and move here, I’m also not convinced that this difference is necessarily as bad as we on the “cool side of town” seem to believe.

But I digress. Back to the storm. After the Doggie Diner, we took the unbelievable maze of subdivision roads into Pacifica, where some real weather was starting to kick in. The pier was closed, the roads were getting wetter, and just for a minute it almost looked like an eastern coastal town (except, of course, for the mountain backdrop).

Pacifica is such a creepy place, but I’m fascinated by it. The overall tone is suburban, but I’m not sure if it’s a suburb of San Francisco, Daly City, or just the ocean. It doesn’t really act like a beach town either. Maybe the perpetual fog just attracts those who would rather not be bothered by anyone else and who want an eerily quite space in which to commune with the sea, each other, or whatever.

Darkness set in, and we headed back to the City, still being amused at how exciting this relatively low-level storm seemed given the general blandness of Northern California weather. I watched the Weather Channel some more. This may be the closest experience to a “blizzard watch” I get for a while. That’s probably not a bad thing.

Sat through my first episode of “Friends” last night. I know I’m running a little late on this particular trend. I actually only watched it because I was hoping to catch the new Apple commericial, which was scheduled to run between 8 and 9. Is it just my imagination or is this a really lame and stupid show? What is so appealing about these people? And which of the guys is the one who’s supposed to be so damned cute? I just don’t get it…

I learned many things in the past week while working on the current feelance web project. First and foremost is that most movie studio web sites seem designed primarily for people who have T1 lines in their homes. It should not take five minutes for a web page to load at 28.8K. Ever. Period.

Another bit of realization: people were really amused at the thought of me in a tapas joint. Maybe I’ve carried this whole “lowbrow” thing too far. On the other hand, it IS pretty unusual to find me in a tapas place or anyplace where I’ll have to shell out more than ten bucks (tip included) for dinner…

Why is it that every major bill of my year falls due in February?

Hmmm…sixteen years ago Friday was the first time I ever had sex in an actual bed. I think some sort of celebration is in order…

Anyone who knows me well is aware that I love rain and storms. In fact, overabundant sunshine actually depresses me. I’ve been like this since I was a kid. But jeez…enough is enough! It might be nice to spend at least one day this month not being waterlogged. I’ve killed off two umbrellas in the past week. Dashing up to the corner store has become a monumental feat of planning and timing.

Color me very pissed that Channel 44 has replaced my two back-to-back reruns of “Grace Under Fire” at 6PM with “Star Trek: The Next Generation”. Nothing against “TNG”, but I’ve seen ’em all, and it’s not exactly what I’m looking for at 6:00.

Three of the last four guys I’ve had sex with have begged me to cum in their mouths. Should this worry me? Should it worry THEM?

Word on the street is that The Power Exchange Main Station, an SF sex club, will be going co-sexual soon. There’s to be a male-only side and a male-female side. Seems like someone’s being left out doesn’t it? I’m sure female-female scenes will be tolerated on the co-ed side, as long as they’re doing it for the enjoyment of the menfolk. A question: do any heterosexual females have the same odd fascination with watching two guys go at it that so many straight men have with girlsex?

Yo quiero Waffle House.