I don't think before I type's Comments

As someone who used to work in "the kitchen" of a grubby-ass New York-style pizza place back east, I like to consider myself a pizza snob (we're being honest here).  To date, I think the slice shops in the city straight up suck and have generally lost hope, but that's because I generally am skeptical of any place that calls itself a "New York-Style Pizzeria" that doesn't have cooks chain-smoking in the kitchen, a whale of a Italian mother screaming in the backroom, and a proprietor with the last name "Danelli."  In 9th grade when I worked as a dishwasher in a second pizza place, I learned that men named Luigi are far more juvenile and perverted than any high-schooler could ever dream of.  I place the blame for my excessive use of the words "fuck," "cocksucker," and "elephant fucker" on the Greek people.

Anyways, the point is that pizza places in SF sell small, weak-ass slices of pizza and you never feel like you're going to get a complimentary knife wound with your mushroom + black olive.  Pizza Di Mano, while doesn't look like a place to get murdered in, does look sufficiently cheap and creative.  It can't possibly be as good as real New York-pizza because the slices are not as big as a newborn child and the pictures indicate that they premake all their slices (a disgusting practice. Would you eat a premade burrito from Farolito?  Of course not), but could help fill the void in the Mission.  Importantly, if I ate meat, I'd be fucking pumped to try this slice: "'Viva la Mexico' pizza with chorizo, jalapeno, and chipolte sauce."

Anyone hungry?

Eater SF has the full scoop, including pics of the pizza.

3331 24th St. at Mission.

The peace treaty is OVER. Following the great bee sting incident of 1993, wherein I sat on a bee, got stung on my leg and had to wait four hours to find a pharmacy open in Patra on a Sunday so I could buy antihistamine, bees and I had an agreement. While initially upon encountering bees the most appropriate reaction seemed to be running around, flailing my arms and screaming like a banshee, I later learned that the easiest way to indicate my harmlessness was to stop, drop and play dead. I accommodated them. And the bees knew this meant not to sting me.

You might recall that the Mission is suddenly rampant with bees. Well, on Sunday it came to my attention that, not only are they overrunning our neighborhood, they have a newfound aggression toward Dolores Park chilling enthusiasts. I was leaving DP after spending a few hours drinking Korbel and eating chocolate (unoffensive). I was enjoying nature and not bothering anyone. This, apparently, was really irritating to one particular bee that decided, FOR NO GOOD REASON, to land on my leg and deposit a stinger so gigantic that I didn't even need tweezers to pull it out. What the shit did I do to deserve that?! Nothing. I would love to think the insect committed suicide on my leg and cannot harm another park goer but it's not true. It is still out there and it told all its bee friends about you and it WILL come after you, whether you have it coming or not.

To be clear, there is no actual reward for catching the culprit, but our deal is off the table and it's now open season on bees. I highly encourage you to find it and/or its buddies. Sting or be stung. 

 So I'm risking a bit with my first post for this blog being both about the the totally-not-cool, touristy subject of Alcatraz and the thoroughly covered, over-analyzed subject of Banksy in SF, but fuck it. It's just the Internet.

Today, my lady friend and I went to Alcatraz on a lark. It ruled, especially the part where you're in "The Hole," and the dude is talking about tossing a button around to save his sanity. I love that shit. Anyway, we got to the part where we could go chill in the rec yard. We traipsed about, and climbed the huge bench-stairs, and at the top we found this:

OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!! Why the fuck WOULDN'T Banksy hit up one of the most well-known historical monuments our city can offer? Really, I'm not into graffiti, at all, but this rules. And don't try to tell me a stencil of a rat trying to dig its way out of Alcatraz ISN'T the work of Banksy. Here's a close up for the skeptics:

Hopefully, the powers that be won't see this and remove it. I'm kinda stoked now. This is like when you were a kid, and you would check every Tootsie Pop wrapper for the Indian shooting the star. But this time there's no rumor of free candy, and no kids lying about that one time the guy at the store totally gave them a free sucker. Maybe now we should go check under the Golden Gate Bridge and in Janis Joplin's house's bathroom, or something. Anyway, hopefully I can keep posting after this.

Previously on Uptown Almanac

• Fourth Banksy Found at 9th and Howard
• Third Banksy Found? (It's real this time)
• New Banksy in SF?
• Possible Banksy Spotted on 18th

So curiosity (and not-at-all-420-related munchies) led my two friends and I to sample the controversial unsandwich known at KFC as the "Double Down."

The Double Down consists of two pieces of boneless fried chicken, with jack cheese, bacon and the Colonel's special sauce in between. Pretty appalling. With 540 calories, 32 grams of fat and 1380 milligrams of sodium, it's truly a heartstopper. Reviews? I say ... blech, bacon plus fried chicken is just too much, and I felt stomach acid and nausea before I even finished eating. I do not recommend it. My friend George somewhat agrees. My friend Ryan, on the other hand, is totally on board, proclaiming the Double Down his "new Burger King Quad Stacker."

Has anyone else tried this monstrosity? Reactions?