It's always good to get out of LA for a bit because it's relaxing to get away from the chaos and traffic, but really, my respiratory system requires relief from the toxins floating about in the atmosphere from time to time. My favorite retreat is my homeland of San Francisco because I appreciate when municipalities adopt laissez-faire attitudes toward open-container laws. I can think of fewer things more liberating than drinking in public without being harassed or fined. The only thing better than this is probably drinking in public while nude, which is also legal in San Francisco.
My most recent trip to SF started off with me forcing my little brother to take me directly to Turtle Tower's location in SOMA. It is conveniently located across from the county jail, which only means that there are plenty of eligible bachelors in the area. Aside from that, I love this pho more than anything. As Rich Homie Quan would say, handmade noodles make me feel some type of way.
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| I don't care what anyone says, good soup is meant to be eaten with your hands. |
After submerging my head in a bowl of soup and sucking it dry with my nostrils, I was parched. My brother and I headed down the street to 21st Amendment to pre-game for the Giant's game. For some reason, I end up here every time I come home because I want the Hell or High Watermelon Wheat Beer on draft but they are
ALWAYS sold out. But not this time. The beer gods were ever in my favor that day and it was weird, because beer gods normally hate me.
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SUCK ME
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I love the Giants and the Crazy Crab'z sandwich at AT&T Park is responsible for at least 80% of my love. Pablo Sandoval's sweet bod in that uniform is responsible for the other 20%. I've written sonnets about this sandwich on here before, but this sandwich deserves to be praised daily. I had one and split another one with my friend, Erika. This was after we took customary thizz face pictures in front of the field in honor of Mac Dre's birthday.
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| CREAMY DUNGENESS CRAB BETWEEN TWO SLICES OF GARLIC BREAD. |
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| Get it, boo. |
I cracked my phone screen and lost my ATM card this glorious night. Had this not happened, I would have had the best day of my life. I understand that Jesus does not like to send me mixed signals about restoring my faith in his mercy for me--so I believe he did this to keep me check. Well played, Jesus.
The next day, I made my pilgrimage to Dolores Park so that I could sit in the grass with my pals and essentially sit there until we rot. This is just what the youth of San Francisco do--drink in parks until they reach paralysis.
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An array of nutritious delicacies: Acme baguette, Cowgirl Creamery Mt. Tam, Gioia Burrata and some sort of organic salami from Applegate.
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My friend, Gabby made this gorgeous card for her mother's 49th birthday. It is pure genius to say the least.
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I eventually left the city. It was a very upsetting goodbye since I pine for it everyday and leaving is the equivalent of cutting off my own umbilical cord. I reluctantly went back to LA and consoled myself the only effective way that I knew how. CHICKEN WINGS. Chicken wings solve everything. What is the pythagorean theorem? I don't know it off the top of my head, but I'm sure the answer is CHICKEN WINGS. I just googled it and it relates to triangles, which is the shape of a drumstick in a way...so once again, I am right and smart people are wrong about me.
Here is some spank bank material from California Wings Cafe in Hollywood. We wandered here after braving a pool party at Drai's on an exceptionally hot Saturday afternoon. I'm terrified of pool parties at hotels, so I was in a traumatic state.
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| My password for my work computer was "hotwings69" at one point. |
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| Once this picture stops being creepy, it starts to become compelling. Thus, art is born. I'm selling prints for $500.00. |
Okay, it's almost 11 o'clock and that means I need to sleep or else I will be completely useless and unattractive tomorrow and I can't be that two days in a row.
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