I love living in San Francisco.  Love it.  I walk or take the bus most places; I don’t have a car at all.  Actually, I rent out my parking space for fun and profit.  Well, not really profit, and it’s not all that fun.  I rent out my parking space for money.

With my new phone I am able to take photos that actually look good.  The best part about the info on the new phone is that to sync it with my computer I have to “mount” it.  He he.  Yes, I am six years old.  I also laugh when I hear “hump” and “dickie.”

The photo above is aptly placed across the street from a rather pretentious vegan raw food place.  I think.  I’ve never been because from what I’ve been told about the place, I would be thoroughly annoyed if they told me how I felt whilst eating their food.  I’m fine with the raw thing and I’m fine with the vegan thing, but to tell me I’ll be a better person if I eat the restaurant’s dishes is just fucking silly.  And annoying.

Someone vandalized the vandalism.  The graffiti is not about weather or pollution at all.  Rather, it is about attitude:  “San Francisco.  Not smug.  Just better.”  San Francisco is better.  I know it, you know it.  Everyone knows it.

I recently talked to a friend who has a child.  Actually, she’s my only friend with a child.  I like her despite her status as a parent of a young child.  When talking to the vice-principal of her son’s school the subject of tucking came up.  Tucking in the context of drag queens tucking their “packages.”  The friend realized that there was little chance that such a topic would have been broached with a school official in any other city.  Just one of the many great things about living in San Francisco – frank talk about genitals and what to do with them.

I swear.  True story.

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