While going on the City Guides "1906: Phoenix Rising" tour (Free! Entertaining! Educational! Tour regarding the 1906 San Francisco Earthquake and Fire), these nicely juxtaposed images caught my eye:
"Jesus is Pissed" (And carrying guns!! Embiggen and look at arrow and red circle!) and the nude stripper shadow profile!
San Francisco is just too wonderful! I love it!
Living in the Haight (and specifically on Haight Street near Ashbury--ya know, the summer of love & drugs area), I am asked on a daily basis for money, food, clothing, a smile, etc. I am also told to "F*ck Off!" (literally) on signs that also ask me for spare change. Anyhoo, long story short, I love the following urban snarkification tools:
(Image credit: Glarkware.com)
Urban Asshole Notification Cards come with a super-easy and handy checklist for things such as:
Counter-Hippie Stop Sign Stickers
My favorite stickers are those that instruct one to stop "defacing stop signs" and to stop "with all the patchouli".
(Image Credit: Glarkware.com)
And for fans of the brilliant HBO series, The Wire, there is the three button (or magnet) multisyllabic "she-eeeeeeee-it":
(Image credit: Glarkware.com)
And in answer to your questions:
1) No, I would not hand out the Urban Asshole Cards--way too passive-aggressive for me!
2) No, I am not being sponsored by Glarkware; I just happen to love these products and wanted to share.
3) And yes, finally yes, if you are a knitter, I shall run a destashing contest this weekend!
Last night, John and I joined some of his pharmacy school friends at Temple nightclub. I have to say that I have found my new "church of dance". We stayed on the top floor where I could dance the entire evening away to well mixed electronica, rather than to hip-hop/top 40/gangsta crap. I am in a nearly incessant state of utter excitement over the fact that DJ Mark Farina will be there on Saturday, January 26th. He will be there...therefore I shall be there.
Old Man Winter made his debut today with buckets of rain and gusts of wind hitting the 70+ mph range in San Francisco. Just down the block from my house the winter wind wreaked havoc on this tree (and many more just like it up and down Haight Street!):
P.S. I totally love how the parking meter was untouched by the whole winter storm. The SF Municipal Department WILL damned BE SURE to collect their parking money, come hell or high winds!
BUT! Someday there will have to be a washer/dryer in my home (or at least in the apartment complex I will live in).
Ugh, how I hate laundromats with their dirty floors , flourescent-lighting, and the "So San Francisco" reality that they will be visited--at least once during each trip I've taken to the laundromat--by a loony transient whom is sometimes high on some drug or another. Our "local laundromat" features groovy, high tech benefits such as the "Computerized Dryer":
I honestly believe that this dryer has a secret mission to torture techies by flaunting its ultra-retro coolness via its space-age, fast forward font. All of this cheesiness I could handle with a slight ironic smirk if only I could feed the machine a damn debit or credit card to pay for my loads of laundry.
This ultra-ironic-hipness is only superseded by the super funny reality of the Marxist Washing Machine Rebellion of 2007 wherein a washer lathered up enough courage to spit out his master's dreams of clean clothes.
Luckily, this mess wasn't mine, but I did have quite the blast trying not to slip-slide my way through it when moving clothes from washers to dryers.
Since we've moved to San Francisco I've had more than one dream (actual dreams, folks, not just daydreams!) that we live in a house/apartment with a gigantic laundry room and top of the line washer and dryer. Perhaps living with the parental unit for two months this summer has spoiled me as they had recently purchased the Whirlpool Duet and the washer is quick, water-efficient, and quiet as a mouse, while the dryer is speedy and perfect.
Nevertheless, my dreams of a washer and dryer will continue to be just dreams. Until then, John and I have decided we are going to pay a local cleaner to wash and dry our clothes. Life is too short to spend slip-sliding away at a dirty laundromat with weirdoes running in and out!
This is exactly what I want to read while I'm riding the bus:
Yep, you read that right: a strange man overtakes the bus driver, puts his foot on the gas pedal, and runs the bus through red lights!
Way to go, MUNI! Excellent campaign to make riders feel safe and happy when taking the bus.
You could mosey on over to "The Flaneur-The Arcades Project-The Rhetoric of Hypertext" to read a bit about zie flaneur. You might enjoy yourself. Or not.
Or you could just grab yourself a copy of Walter Benjamin's behemoth The Arcades Project.
Better yet, just read The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. Now there is beauty. And a piece of art with it's own actual aura.
In an effort to revitalize my knitting mojo, I sallied forth into the night to join the knitters of SF Chicks with Sticks at Bliss Bar in Noe Valley of San Francisco.
The meetup place:
Knitting hands (Gabby and Catherine):
Overall: A really nice group and a bar that serves knock-you-on-your-ass mojitos (I could nowhere near finish even half of my drink; uber-duber, super strong).
Hopefully tomorrow I can get a good shot of the fingerless gloves I am working on as the yarn (Koigu 1040) is utterly beautiful--in fact, it is too beautiful to hide under pants and in shoes!
