the holiday season!

What Do San Franciscans Want for Christmas?

— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |

On Sanchez at 16th sits a household that is REALLY INTO CHRISTMAS.  Lots of decorations, a Christmas tree that people can leave ornaments on, and a garage door covered in paper for passersby to leave their wish list to Santa on.  So, what do San Franciscans want for Christmas?  Let's take a look:

A common theme was to ask Santa for political change, societal change, and peace and love and lolcats.  It is clear that SF has lost all faith in the political process and has been forced to turn to a deity for hope.  Our God wears red, eats cookies, and gets around in a sleigh not powered by fossil fuels.  Wish lists are the new form of prayer.  Lefty O'Doul's is our megachurch.  Folsom Street Fair is our Easter Mass.

As previously mentioned, San Franciscans cannot get enough of asking for things that are not gifts, but things that I remember the bougie girl from the 'burbs asking for while stuck waiting in line to ask for a copy of DOOM, a new Redline BMX bike, and to not get in trouble next time I burned an ant hill with a can of WD-40.

Anyway, Jim E. desires some credit for incorporating idealism with something tangible.

Here we see that people want Santa to buy them a subscription to Match.com and bus fare to the SFPCA.  Also, a revolution.

Don't confuse this one.  We're not a greedy people, we just went to college where we studied philosophy, minored in computer science, spent our time taking mescaline, having sex in the President's garden, and playing Maria Kart.  Instead of moving to New Hampshire after graduation, were there are no taxes and rent is a nickel, we moved to San Francisco, where rent is our salary, the sales tax borders on 10%, and fashionable tshirts cost $29.95.

Only our jolly red God can help us now.

This set of wish lists tells you a lot about San Francisco:

  1. The city has completely given up on the 49ers and are now pulling for other teams to win the Super Bowl.
  2. Our choice in lovers comes down to not how much money they make, rather what instrument they played in college.
  3. We're French-loving socialist scum.

Well, it does snow a lot in the North Pole (sorry).

If there is something this city wants most, it's probably sex with Christian figures in costumes.

Same as above.

Also of note, what is cut off on the right is “A BIG FAT…. ….BLUNT!”  I think the entrepreneurs out there can see a growing demand for a drug and cookie-based economy.

Finally, it wouldn't be a garage door in San Francisco without someone tagging over it.

Want to read the entire wall?  Full-size here.  Warning: it's a huge file.

Confessions of a Nogaholic

— By Kevin Montgomery (@kevinmonty) |

My first Fall in San Francisco, I was introduced to a drinking contest fit only for masochists and the insensible.  No, I'm not talking about Whiskey Wednesday, I'm talking about a marathon soy nog drinking contest.  The rules were simple: as soon as soy nog, the vegan version egg nog, was made commercially available, each person had to drink as much as possible before Christmas day.  The winner of the contest was awarded the respect of his peers and the cost of a wider pair of jeans.

I was young and naive then.  A lad of 23 years of age, believing I could conquer the world.  The forefather of this competition was a maniacal vegan who went by the name of John, who was rumored to have once consumed over 900 popsicles in a Summer on a bet.  Surely I of no eating contest experience could take him down.

As competition began in November 2007, I quickly established a pace of one liter of nog a day.  After all, nog washes down a PB&J quite well.  But it wasn't enough.  Neil and Matt were easily polishing off 2 liters a day.  In an attempt to catch up, I guzzled 4 liters in one evening.  Later, the judges ruled that nog that was later retched up could not be counted towards one's total.

Shopping patterns were studied.  Competitors would go to Rainbow 30 minutes ahead of their opponents to clear the shelves.  Soon it was learned that Whole Foods carried a nog containing 60 calories less per liter than that of Rainbow's.  So we went there instead, clearing out the shelves.

Taunting photos of nog stockpiles were emailed around.  Pictures of one's Tetrapack body count were common.

Meals were completely replaced by nog.  Milk and cereal became nog and cereal.  Later, just nog.  Friday night beers became nog and rum.  Or “Nog Russians.”  For the desperate, “vodka nogs.”  Now! Dasher, now! Dancer, now! Prancer and Vixen, on! Comet, on! Cupid, on! Donder and Blitzen!  Get thy to a liquor store!

I ended up losing the competition by a mere 2 liters to Neil, but at least I bested John “900 Popsicles” C.'s record.

Ahem.  Sorry, what was the point of this?  Oh yeah, Fabric8 is hosting a “Nog-In” on Dec. 18th, in which they will crown who in the city makes the best nog.  While it should be a good time, you should beware; that shit can get out of hand fast.

(More info on the Nog-In at SFoodie / You're the man now, Nogg. photo by Laura Beck)

        

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