Police No Longer Down With People Peeing Openly in Dolores Park

DVTDL? reports:

Ever since mankind ceased ambulating about on four limbs, and began walking this earth on two—man has peed on his god given ground. For thousands of years, man has micturated upon the earth.

Well not in Obama’s America. In #ObamasAmerica, the police state tells you where you can and can’t pee. And if they don’t like you choice of location, they write you a ticket.

All that “Obama plotted 9/11” mumbo jumbo aside, is it really fair to ticket people for skipping the gargantuan bathroom line altogether and tinkling on building itself when the city puts literally no effort in providing ample facilities?  I mean, it's the warmest weekend of the year, the park's packed, and sometimes you just gotta go.

[Photo and reportage by DVTDL?]

BART's Finest Remain Calm in Tense Situation

Note: According to a direct witness, it seems that I misjudged the situation in haste and the dude, in fact, split laundry detergent everywhere, rather than peed himself.  My sincerest appologizes if that ruined your day.  Below is the original post, which remains unedited despite its incorrect analysis.  Refunds can be collected at the box office.

Rainy days in San Francisco can really be a blessing in disguise.  They force you to switch up your routine.  Wear that $40 North Face rain coat you begrudgingly bought at Sports Basement last time it rained.  Leave your bike in the garage and take public transportation to work.  Whine on Twitter.

I, like many of my friends and neighbors, did all of that yesterday.  Only my iPhone-equiped, North Face jacket-clad BART ride was a little extra special, because I saw this:

What's that you say?  Well, dearest readers, that's what happens when someone fucking pisses themselves on a rush hour commute BART train.  That's right, it's a pool of fucking urine.

Pee-pee. Jersey discharge. Liquid gold. R. Kelly's Viagra.  The Smello Yellow.  Whatever you call it, it's fucking gross.

And to make matters even more amusing?  This dude let it go down right in front of two cops.

Now, I must be totally clear here, I didn't see this guy whip out his most likely-syphilitic dick and hose down the floor with my own two eyes.  But if the ghastly, PTSD-Vietnam-flashback looks of horrors in everyone's eyes as they fled the train at Civic Center tells any story, there was most definitely a traumatic experience in his pants.

The cops, contrary to one's justifiable expectations, did not freak out and tase the relieved sonuvabitch.  Rather, they got on the radio and serenely called in “clean-up in car 1431,” as if they were fired from their minimum wage stocking job at Safeway just last week.  These cops have seen it all, goddamnit, and they weren't about to let some unkinked hose get them suspended.

It was around this time that things started to smell a little off and I bailed off the train myself, but not before noticing the reflection of one man's unadulterated terror in the puddle of piss:

We've Already Peed Out a Muni Window, Why Not Poo Ourselves Too?


Now that dropping your drawers and tinkling out of a moving bus window is a thing, why not step your game up and straight up shit yourself while riding the Double Duece-Fillmore?

Well, according to @franoero, some fearless pioneer did just that at 10pm last night on the 22:

For the sake of humanity, someone please illustrate this foul scene.

[Photo by @franoero, via Muni Diaries]

Haight Street Dinosaur Hasn't Evolved to Pick Up After Itself

I don't really go to the Upper Haight unless I want to feel better about myself, so please excuse my ignorance, but does Shoe Biz just roll this dino out every time a gutter punk's dog poops on the sidewalk for the visual gag, or does it really dispense feces?

Anyway, sorry about posting a pic of of a guy wearing a Canadian tuxedo to the blog.  So gross.

[Photo by P.D. Bird]

A Golden Tsunami to Wash Away Every Victorian in San Francisco

Here's the latest SF Bay Comic from Gnartoons, featuring some lovely depictions of what the Mayan apocalypse will look like in SF.

(Also, I've also suspected this to be the reason San Francisco smells like New York every fall.  Has MythBusters performed any tinkle reconstitution experiments yet to prove this theory yet?)

Police Sketch Artists Release Graphic Mug Shot of Muni's Most Wanted

In light of the continued controversy surrounding the egregious crimes that occurred on Muni this past New Year's Eve, SFPD has released this sketch of the suspect's bottom region.  Authorities state that she is believed to be intoxicated and dangerous, and should be threatened with rape and murder should you encounter her.

Police ask that if you recognize this urine stream, please call SFPD immediately.

[Drawing by The Fog Bender]

How to Pee on Muni

It's easy, really.  For girls, just hang your ass out the window and dribble down the side of a “We Bought a Zoo” banner.  For guys, whip out your syphilitic dick as you are already accustomed to doing on the bus, somehow manage to seek out the corner that will maximize the quantity of people that have to smell it, and just pee there.

[This feat was accomplished by Kelly Kate]

Paxton Gate's Curiosities for Kids' Bathroom is Bizarre Laboratory of Bowel Inquisition

While on the topic of booty, I found myself having to 'occupy a toilet seat' while strolling down Valencia earlier today, so I ducked into Paxton Gate's Curiosities for Kids', figuring they might have some dead lizards or something to look at while I regretted eating a burrito for breakfast.  Anyway, if you're still reading this, I took a look at their janitorial checklist before I sat down because children are gross and horrible and I wanted to make sure someone hosed down the seat with an ocean of bleach recently, only to discover their toilet can is for scientific research only.  Oh Paxton Gate, you're so goofy.

Anyway, if my stool cures cancer you're welcome.

Overnight Parking on 24th is the Worst

Sierra Frost has a few ideas who—or what—might have committed this bowel atrocity last night:

I can only think of two possible ways this might have happened. Either there’s a flock of pterodactyls hanging out above El Delfin, or the Mission Serial Rapist decided to serial rape my car.


(And speaking of Sierra, her band, The Downer Party, recently went back into the studio and to recording a whole bunch of new music for their new disc)