6.4.2kX
Oh what fun it is to be a bike-commuter in a city of cars! If there's a list of possible car/bike-bike/car interactions, I'd love to see it and start checking off the ones I've had. Right turn into me? Check. Dead-stop in front of me? Check. Death-threats yelled at me? Oh hell yes. And on, and on, and on.
But last week, oddly enough, I had two unique car/bike interactions.
1. First thing to note is that I'm the only bicyclist in LA that stops at stop signs*. (*While I don't actually stop at all stop signs, I definitely slow down and look to see if anyone's coming. If someone is coming, I'll stop. This REALLY confuses drivers.) That said, I approached a four-way stop just before a car on my right reached the stop. Knowing it was my go, I made sure she saw me and was yielding. She was. I went. Just as I went, I heard a pickup behind me going too! It was a two-fer! I've poached many a car proceeding through a stop, but never had a car or pickup join my right-of-way. This is precisely why I don't stop at stop signs: It's too dangerous! The fool behind you won't stop and will run you the fuck over!
2. I was stuck at a red light trying to cross a surprisingly busy narrow residential street. (Its busyness attributable to it being an alternate to the dreadful Lincoln Blvd.) The street had parallel-parked cars so dense that one, say, stuck at the light, could not see down the street to see if anyone was coming so that they could cross (in other words, run the red.) So there I was, trying to see to my left, when, to my right, I heard, "Get ooooooouuutt of the waaaaaay." It came from the driver of a shitty-looking SUV who was trying to see down the impossible-to-see-down street and take a right-on-red. I - while being perfectly within my right to the road - was in her way of seeing.
So I said, "What??!? Fuck you!"
She said, "Fuck YOU!"
So I called her a goddamn cunt. A clear escalation. The Nuclear Option. Gals do NOT like being called cunts.
She reacted to being called that so coolly it suggested she'd been called it before.
I suspect she had. Many times.
Tonight - The Homestead.
Happy Birthday Lee Lee the Musical Bee!!! Hope it's epic!!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
And I can't find anything!
6.3.2kX
"The Canadian Mistake" is a perfect description of a girl I used to date. She was from the Great White North and it was a mistake to date her. Live and learn, yo.
Anyway, I once found myself driving solo in her SUV. She'd festooned a sticker of each and every one of the schools she'd attended in her career ascent to the rear window such that it started to look like a out-of-town scoreboard at a ballgame: Whittier v. Cornell; Columbia U v. ?? It was quite the "ooh Look At Me" display.
I was crawling up Franklin St. in SF and not making much progress; there was some parade or another up ahead. It was rare nice day and I had the windows down. Along my left crept another SUV, this one filled with dizzy-looking (presumably) Marina-bound grrrrls. The driver had a big mouth: "Hey! Did you ever graduate?" she yelled.
"Pardon me?" I said.
"All those school stickers on yr window! Did you ever graduate?"
"Oh those," I said, "this is my girlfriend's SUV. She went to those schools."
"Did she ever graduate??" Miss Bigmouth then asked.
"Yep. She sure did. From each one of them."
"Can't she decide what to do?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Why did she keep going to different schools? Couldn't she decide what to do?" This was getting old.
"Oh, I see," I said, "She went to one school for an undergraduate degree, then she went to the others for graduate degrees. She's a geo-physicist."
Blank stares from the grrrrls.
"A scientist? Surely you know what a scientist is," I said. "Have you ever heard of science?" I asked.
The Bigmouth didn't like that one. "Yes I've heard of science!"
"Well you have to go to school for a long time to be a scientist and ... hey," I said, looking from Bigmouth to the quiet grrrl in the passenger seat, "hey, YOU'RE very pretty. What's YOUR name?"
Bigmouth REALLY didn't like that one. "Shut up! Don't you have a girlfriend?"
"Yeh," I said, "She's a pill. Look, you're kinda pretty but not like her," nodding toward the passenger, now bright red. "She's REALLY pretty." I looked at the passenger. "You're REALLY pretty." She may or may not have been.
Bigmouth had enough, especially when the other grrrls in the back seat erupted in laughter. "Jerk!" she yelled, "don't cheat on your girlfriend!" Then she rolled up the window yelled "JERK!" again through it before yelling at her passengers. Then she left me alone.
Tonight - Sutter Street Statio . (or Tavern) Note: Cash Only.
Don't let the Yelp™ review bar graph scare you. Just rotate it 90ยบ counter-clockwise. The place is just giving the finger to other SF establishments.
And, Sutter Street Statio has been around nearly as long as AC... who is celebrating a birthday this week. Come on out and buy him a beer!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
"The Canadian Mistake" is a perfect description of a girl I used to date. She was from the Great White North and it was a mistake to date her. Live and learn, yo.
Anyway, I once found myself driving solo in her SUV. She'd festooned a sticker of each and every one of the schools she'd attended in her career ascent to the rear window such that it started to look like a out-of-town scoreboard at a ballgame: Whittier v. Cornell; Columbia U v. ?? It was quite the "ooh Look At Me" display.
I was crawling up Franklin St. in SF and not making much progress; there was some parade or another up ahead. It was rare nice day and I had the windows down. Along my left crept another SUV, this one filled with dizzy-looking (presumably) Marina-bound grrrrls. The driver had a big mouth: "Hey! Did you ever graduate?" she yelled.
"Pardon me?" I said.
"All those school stickers on yr window! Did you ever graduate?"
"Oh those," I said, "this is my girlfriend's SUV. She went to those schools."
"Did she ever graduate??" Miss Bigmouth then asked.
"Yep. She sure did. From each one of them."
"Can't she decide what to do?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Why did she keep going to different schools? Couldn't she decide what to do?" This was getting old.
"Oh, I see," I said, "She went to one school for an undergraduate degree, then she went to the others for graduate degrees. She's a geo-physicist."
Blank stares from the grrrrls.
"A scientist? Surely you know what a scientist is," I said. "Have you ever heard of science?" I asked.
The Bigmouth didn't like that one. "Yes I've heard of science!"
"Well you have to go to school for a long time to be a scientist and ... hey," I said, looking from Bigmouth to the quiet grrrl in the passenger seat, "hey, YOU'RE very pretty. What's YOUR name?"
Bigmouth REALLY didn't like that one. "Shut up! Don't you have a girlfriend?"
"Yeh," I said, "She's a pill. Look, you're kinda pretty but not like her," nodding toward the passenger, now bright red. "She's REALLY pretty." I looked at the passenger. "You're REALLY pretty." She may or may not have been.
Bigmouth had enough, especially when the other grrrls in the back seat erupted in laughter. "Jerk!" she yelled, "don't cheat on your girlfriend!" Then she rolled up the window yelled "JERK!" again through it before yelling at her passengers. Then she left me alone.
Tonight - Sutter Street Statio . (or Tavern) Note: Cash Only.
Don't let the Yelp™ review bar graph scare you. Just rotate it 90ยบ counter-clockwise. The place is just giving the finger to other SF establishments.
And, Sutter Street Statio has been around nearly as long as AC... who is celebrating a birthday this week. Come on out and buy him a beer!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Today the van broke down... again.
6.2.2k10
I like to drink, yes.
Sometimes I drink too much, yes.
The other night I drank too much and felt bad the next day, yes.
Sometimes I drink a lot and skip eating, yes.
I seen a gal once, yes, who was wasted. She was brought to the TNSC meeting by a lovely list member. She had clearly drunk a lot and did not skip eating: She snagged my snack! Ya see, this bar has no kitchen, but it does serve up a great snack in the form of a big hunk of cheese and a mess of saltines. Cheese and saltines and beer. Yum! So I meet this drunk grrrrl, order myself and MY lady a couple beers and cheese/saltine snack and the barkeep serves it up. I had a beer to my grrrrl, pick up my beer and this OTHER grrrl I just met, drunk, snagged my cheese/saltines and then ... and then ... proceeded to eat 'em as if they were free or hers. It was awesome. She was so drunk and so helping herself to my snack that I found it not totally unacceptable, but totally fascinating. I looked to my grrrrrl to see if she was witnessing the spectacle and indeed she was, but to my calm wonder of the situation, she was furious. Her blood was clearly boiling and was about to boil over. It was as fun to watch as the grrrl who snagged my snack.
Soon, though, the grrrl tired of my snack and stopped mowing it down. "Ugh," she said, "I can't eat another bite." "Are you sure," I asked, as I slid the snack over to my grrrrrl, "you won't have another? There's some left." "No," she said, "I already had two of them baskets and I ain't supposed to eat that much cheese."
Though we're not going to go to a venue that serves cheese & crackers (though they do have hot peanuts). I just wanted to retell that story because it makes me (and AC) laugh so much.
Tonight - Hemlock Tavern.
What better way to spend your Thursday evening than in an ex-Filipino Transvestite bar with a bunch of your friends?!?
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
I like to drink, yes.
Sometimes I drink too much, yes.
The other night I drank too much and felt bad the next day, yes.
Sometimes I drink a lot and skip eating, yes.
I seen a gal once, yes, who was wasted. She was brought to the TNSC meeting by a lovely list member. She had clearly drunk a lot and did not skip eating: She snagged my snack! Ya see, this bar has no kitchen, but it does serve up a great snack in the form of a big hunk of cheese and a mess of saltines. Cheese and saltines and beer. Yum! So I meet this drunk grrrrl, order myself and MY lady a couple beers and cheese/saltine snack and the barkeep serves it up. I had a beer to my grrrrl, pick up my beer and this OTHER grrrl I just met, drunk, snagged my cheese/saltines and then ... and then ... proceeded to eat 'em as if they were free or hers. It was awesome. She was so drunk and so helping herself to my snack that I found it not totally unacceptable, but totally fascinating. I looked to my grrrrrl to see if she was witnessing the spectacle and indeed she was, but to my calm wonder of the situation, she was furious. Her blood was clearly boiling and was about to boil over. It was as fun to watch as the grrrl who snagged my snack.
Soon, though, the grrrl tired of my snack and stopped mowing it down. "Ugh," she said, "I can't eat another bite." "Are you sure," I asked, as I slid the snack over to my grrrrrl, "you won't have another? There's some left." "No," she said, "I already had two of them baskets and I ain't supposed to eat that much cheese."
Though we're not going to go to a venue that serves cheese & crackers (though they do have hot peanuts). I just wanted to retell that story because it makes me (and AC) laugh so much.
Tonight - Hemlock Tavern.
What better way to spend your Thursday evening than in an ex-Filipino Transvestite bar with a bunch of your friends?!?
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 03, 2010
Multiple Choice
6.1.2k10
Following is a rehash of what is now five frikkin' years old. No formerly-beloved smokey-treats for me for the last five years. All the rest of it is strangely apropos anyway. Some things never change.
Which of the following statements is true?
A. I quit swearing
B. I quit drinking
C. I started going to church
D. I root for the Giants
E. I quit smoking
Let's consider each option:
"A. I quit swearing." If you know anything about me, you know that I love to swear. I mean I really love it. I love putting together new swear-words by cramming old ones together. "Shitass buttpuppy." If I were guessing truth I would rule this one out.
"B. I quit drinking." Let's see ... Republicans. War. Republicans. Garden pests. Republicans. Traffic. Republicans. Shitty baseball teams. Republicans ... if there weren't reasons to drink in the first place, there's always "drinking sure is fun." Nope.
"C. I started going to church." If 'church' means 'bar' I'd question whether I ever stopped going. But since 'church' is 'church' and I have no time, energy or rational, emotional or logical commitment to organized religion, it too is out.
"D. I root for the Giants" My corpse will rise from the grave and root for whatever team is playing the Giants. Least likely of all.
"E. I quit smoking" Guess that's the only one left. Since all the others are out, it must be true. Also submitted as evidence is the extra fifty bucks I got in my pocket from not buying smokes for a month. So far so good. Oh wait... this was a repeat posting from 5 years ago. No relapses, so happy 5-year-non-smoking-anniversary to me!
Tonight - Dalva. If you don't see anyone in there, be sure to check out the mellower "bar-within-a-bar" Hideout. in the back of Dalva.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Following is a rehash of what is now five frikkin' years old. No formerly-beloved smokey-treats for me for the last five years. All the rest of it is strangely apropos anyway. Some things never change.
Which of the following statements is true?
A. I quit swearing
B. I quit drinking
C. I started going to church
D. I root for the Giants
E. I quit smoking
Let's consider each option:
"A. I quit swearing." If you know anything about me, you know that I love to swear. I mean I really love it. I love putting together new swear-words by cramming old ones together. "Shitass buttpuppy." If I were guessing truth I would rule this one out.
"B. I quit drinking." Let's see ... Republicans. War. Republicans. Garden pests. Republicans. Traffic. Republicans. Shitty baseball teams. Republicans ... if there weren't reasons to drink in the first place, there's always "drinking sure is fun." Nope.
"C. I started going to church." If 'church' means 'bar' I'd question whether I ever stopped going. But since 'church' is 'church' and I have no time, energy or rational, emotional or logical commitment to organized religion, it too is out.
"D. I root for the Giants" My corpse will rise from the grave and root for whatever team is playing the Giants. Least likely of all.
"E. I quit smoking" Guess that's the only one left. Since all the others are out, it must be true. Also submitted as evidence is the extra fifty bucks I got in my pocket from not buying smokes for a month. So far so good. Oh wait... this was a repeat posting from 5 years ago. No relapses, so happy 5-year-non-smoking-anniversary to me!
Tonight - Dalva. If you don't see anyone in there, be sure to check out the mellower "bar-within-a-bar" Hideout. in the back of Dalva.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
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