— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Bernalwood's Todd Lappin reports:
When I checked out the Prize Pocket on Saturday, I found a Bart Simpson LCD digital watch inside. Woooot!
After pulling out the watch, Todd proceeded to eat the aforementioned pair of shorts for the next 23 years, miraculously delighting television audiences and FOX executives alike.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Lower Haight doesn't get to have all the fun anymore: now we too can indulge in some arbol whimsy while waiting to stuff our faces with some Rhea's sandos.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
It's the holiday season again, which means everyone's favorite needlessly controversial Sanchez St. sidewalk garden has put up their annual “Wish List to Santa.” What are San Franciscans asking for this year?
e.p. wants Anderson Cooper cut up in small boxes under his tree. And a puppy butler.
Sarah wants a bunch of delicious vitamin c with her early afternoon black out.
Someone wants a giant hairy dong.
KN doesn't know quite what he wants, but regrets making that fireplace-side offering to the flannel gods.
Helen wants a job for her father and some fried chicken.
Unlike that greedy 99 percenter Helen, Lil Boo doesn't care about a job or any of that nonsense, she just wants to look rich.
And, of course, someone wants to upgrade from a pen to a can of Krylon.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
From the Friends of Dolores Park Playground:
We have exciting news to share. The big hole dug in June is now being transformed into a world-class playground at Dolores Park! The project is 50% complete and on track for a grand re-opening this Spring.
A lot of what's been accomplished to date - new irrigation lines, boulder walls, and concrete footings, is in preparation for what's ahead. The really fun stuff will start showing up soon, including a 30-foot super slide, an overlook bridge, and a granite climber. We are excited about the progress and are confident the new Helen Diller Playground will be a great addition to Dolores Park.
30-foot super slide! That's almost enough to make up for how bummed everyone (rightly) felt about losing those damn rickety chain swings and the sandy swamp beneath 'em.
[Also, check out their slideshow of renovation photos for a timelapse of sorts of the project]
— By Serg |
Saturday I was off eating brunch or some dumbshit that adults in this town do when I get a text from a rap blogger friend that just says “Jerkin battle at the japantown ymca.” Well considering that's around the corner from me and I'm not doing shit but lame brunch I figure fuck it, I'm rolling. Turns out it was the Bay vs LA jerkin battle and homes was there to talk to Young Sam and that's why he knew about it. I hadn't heard shit on the streets aka the internets but thought, shit this could be cool.
We were definitely the oldest people there to witness a sea of brand new snapbacks and jerk shirts cheer teenagers doing some crazy ass moves. I don't know how many of you internet reader motherfuckers know about Jerkin but it's a style of music that for the most part people have forgotten about since it popped off a few years ago. The New Boyz got a deal and then fools tried to act like it never happened but the kids keep it alive. Shit was all fun but then this fucking kid breaks out his goddamn moves. Just watch this video until about the 19 second part and get your mind blown. I don't even know how you get your body to do shit like this but this kid is fucking crazy dope.
I gave up on watching breakdance battles years ago, I hate when dudes start uprocking in the club now, it's fucking annoying but really I can't front I had fun watching these kids get loose and just enjoy their scene.
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
Riding big wheels and office chairs down San Francisco's hills is fun and all, but this looks to be about as close to sledding as it gets in SF. Perhaps it's time to bring 2001's SF Chair Races?
The intro to the short doc is solid, but the real action kicks off 3:30 in:
— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |
This rope swing isn't for the faint-of-heart, or for overweight people with shitty grip strength, for that matter. These people may look like they are enjoying themselves, but they're not. They're fucking pissing themselves. And for good reason: the swing flies 300 feet above the San Francisco skyline from a dusty knoll on the little-known Billy Goat Hill in Noe Valley. Or Glen Park. All those neighborhoods look the same to me. But, I digress…
Standing atop of a rat's nest of eroded roots snarling along the precipice of self-inflicted bodily harm, you grab a rope dangling from a branch some fifteen or twenty feet above your head, curse your shithead friends for roping you into this idiocy, and leap into flight.
The ground instantly drops out from between you. Five feet. Ten feet. Fifteen feet. Next thing you know, you're staring at the roofs of homes 50 feet below and wishing you hadn't slammed back all those beers beforehand. All the thrills over a roller coaster, but with none of the safety features that come with riding a 50-year-old wooden death trap that's operated by meth addicts. And just as you become convinced you're going to be hauled off the mountain on a stretcher, you make your triumphant return to the safety of solid ground from which you departed.
If you're as graceful as you are ballsy, you leap from the swing to the ground below, shuffling your feet to a quick stop. If you're a clumsy old fool like me, you flail erratically and slam into the tree.
Examining your newfound bruises and ensuring you didn't unexpectedly crap lunch into your pants, everyone fortunate enough to witness your foray into the life of someone with courage will remark that they didn't know a grow-ass man was capable to emitting such screams.
“Whatever, no big deal.”
— By Jon Skulski |
The weight of your messanger bag is off your shoulder and the fog is settling in. Your day was as long as it could have possibly been. But that's all behind you now, it's time to relax. It's time to listen to smooth sounds of the SF police dispatch.
In an insane leap of the mind, Eric Eberhadt decided to combine ambient music with the police scanner and it all works out surprisingly well.
— By Jon Skulski |
The Mission's own Killing My Lobster has been producing video shorts, plays and sketch shows since 1997. If you haven't seen their live sketch shows, you might be familiar with some of their SF centric digital shorts.
KML is now looking for their own dedicated theater, which would also be rented out to other groups. They have found a space on 24th and Mission and could use your help.
Killing My Lobster has finally found the perfect location to build a premier theater space. A project which brings to an end 15 years of wandering from theater rental to theater rental. The space resides in the heart of San Francisco’s Mission district on 24th and Mission St.
The new venue would be a creative hub to hundreds of artists including actors, writers, choreographers, musicians, stand-up comedians and whoever else requires a theater for their production. Killing My Lobster also needs a versatile work space to allow them to expand the classes they make available to the community.
Check out their kickstarter and their show schedule. KML also offers sketch-centric writing and acting classes for those inclined.
— By Zach Perkins |
Ever wonder what happened to the Christmas gifts of yore? The wooden train sets, Red Ryder BB guns, and dolls hand crafted with the care and love of 'Ol St. Nick'? Why did it seem, that in the later half of the 20th century, that Santa had just given up?… It's because he had.
In the 1950s, with the rise of manufactured consumerism, mass-marketed toys with national ad campaigns, and TV and film toy tie-ins, Santa's small family run workshop was struggling stay afloat. His interest in toy manufacturing and distribution had been waining for years, but according to a 2004 interview with the now ex-Mrs. Clause, “Everything changed in 1969”; Santa discovered acid and the 'hippie' movement. After several years spent lost in the counter-culture movement and “going Kerouc on everyone's ass,” Santa finally settled down in a Mission District single resident occupancy 'hotel'. And he's been there ever since.
After 'the lost years' of 1969 to 1973, Santa emerged from his four year acid trip with a newly invigorated sense of purpose. “Fuck Middle American kids!”, Santa said when our reporters caught up with him over the weekend. “With their Chinese-produced and Walmart-sold plastic tripe! American brats don't appreciate shit that doesn't take batteries and charge you a subscription fee”. With his new network of artisan craftsman and locally sourced toy manufacturing boutiques, Santa decided to try again, but this time on a smaller scale in his newfound community. More importantly, his old methods of delivery seemed outdated, and with the rise of NORAD and the threats of foreign nuclear strike, it was now far too dangerous for him to take to the skies. When BART opened to the public in November 1973, he had found his new sleigh.
Concerned about the carbon foot print of his former reindeer colleagues and sleigh, Santa has turned to BART for his commute since its opening day. When we asked him about the difficulties of delivering toys to children outside of the greater Bay Area, Santa remarked that non-Bay Area children were a “bunch of assholes anyway.”
Santa is currently in talks with SOMA start-up eCoal and former BDSM site NaughtyList.net to establish a network of distribution outside of the Bay Area. When asked about the recent BART Police shootings, Santa refused to comment and ended the interiew, stating that he had a “#OpBART strategic planning meeting to get to”.