New in the “give me a fucking break” department. Have I mentioned lately how glad I am not to live in Berkeley, a place which sometimes manages to make even San Francisco look like a veritable sanctuary of sanity? Who’s with me in believing that the lawyer behind this moronic initiative should be force-fed several pots of Sanka reconstituted with tepid water as penance?
Year: 2002
The Weekend
It’s amazing how a few extra hours doing what you want to do (and doing it with who you want to do it with) makes the weekend seem so much better…
Highlights:
- Yet another Mighty Lyon breakfast special in Daly City.
- A consumerist frenzy amid the cheap DVDs at Fry’s.
- A BIG Saturday night dinner.
- Exploring Oakland on a Sunday afternoon.
- Interesting side actvities while watching Cops.
But Monday is gonna suck, between work, a visit to the friendly cardiologist, and other assorted things I’d just as soon skip. At least I’ll have really good leftovers for dinner…
For now, I’ll be spending the rest of the evening reading the paper, watching a movie, and pretending I don’t have a computer. I may post a new rant tomorrow. I’m not in the mood for another argument tonight…
If you’re bored, go now and be amused by what site the fryselectronics.com domain points toward…
Summer in San Francisco
Just went to move my car, and it was freezing outside. I like it. It’s gloomy and foggy and it’s making all the murder movies from the 1940s on TCM tonight even more enjoyable…
If I could just manage a little thunderstorm. OK, a big thunderstorm…
Interview
Just finished an interview with the Chronicle. My name may well be appearing in a pride-related story next week, and my input has nothing whatsoever to do with homosexuality. I’m rather amused by this, but that’s all I’m saying. Frankly, the issue of whether or not I like boys never once came up…
All in all, though, it was a very forgettable Thursday, the conclusion of a very forgettable week. Oddly enough, it’s made me strangely tired…
Phish and Pride
I was taking a crap a week or so back (sorry) and reading the almanac in my bathroom. I discovered that a Phish concert in some swamp in Florida was one of the top five grossing concerts in America in 2001. I pondered standing in a swamp with 50,000 smelly, stoned hippie wannabes listening to Phish and decided that it might be as close as I’d ever come to hell…
Tonight when I was out doing my errands, I pondered standing in the middle of a South of Market or Castro Street dance floor during Identity Politics Weekend, surrounded by thousands of virtually identical men in virtually identical white tank tops (and virtually identical stages of chemical meltdown), and I realized this just might give the Phish concert a run for its money…
By the time I got home, I was very relieved that (a) I don’t believe in hell, and (b) I’ll be in Fresno on the weekend of the 28th…
I think this is as much of a “pride” rant as I’ll bother with this year…