I have no idea if this story is 100% legit or not, but the tale told by commenter Rigoberto Hernandez is worth sharing:

That picture is too funny and nostalgic.

That is Javier (probably not his real name). He lives in a garage with five other people in San Jose, including his brother Hugo (probably not his real name either). He is originally from Puebla, Mexico where he was an artisan. He worked seven days a week selling his merchandise in a market. Then business started to slow down and he immigrated, crossing through Arizona, leaving his wife back home.

He played the role of Jesus Christ in the re-enactment of his final hours, in Puebla. He said the beatings were real, but he was honored nonetheless for being given the role. He liked the role so much that he was considering going through a surgery where they perforate holes in his hands where real nails would go through as he hung on the cross.

Nowadays he wakes up every morning at 5 a.m. to go to Salinas (except Monday or if it's raining) and buys fresh fruit from a farm off the Crazy Horse Canyon. He buys an entire box (double the size of what he is holding) for $6 to $8, depending on supply and sells them for $20.

He was my favorite “fresero.” I wish him well.

Anyone who has ever spent any time near 23rd and Capp knew it was only a matter of time before this happened.

(photo by dschweisguth)

This past Saturday, amidst sunny skies and blistering winds, Pop's Bar on 24th and York St. held its first annual Slam Dunk Contest, and it was awesome. The contestants gathered at the local dive around 4 p.m. or so to properly lubricate themselves before taking part in bar game history. There were costumes, there was a shirtless man, there was a girl, there was an ecstatic crowd, there were embarrassing falls and flops, and there were plenty of authoritative slam-fucking-dunks. Below is a set of choice photos from the proceedings.

Michaelangelo had some issues.

Why is that guy dressed like a pizza?!

There's that girl I was talking about.

Sometimes less clothing means more air.

Friends were helping friends.

One-Eyed Ron fucking owned the game.

Free Pete looking like a basketball card.

Does this kid got style or what?!

Nicknamed “GQ” by the crowd, this dunker rose above his name to deliver some serious dunks.

Seriously! Why is that guy wearing a pizza costume?!

Damn! Pizza got hops.

Get it in there, Ron!

GQ from the free-throw line!

Pizza wins 1st, GQ wins 2nd, and One-Eyed Ron gets 3rd!

Look at that orgy of to-go goodness.  Of course, you can always eat-in and enjoy stunning views of 24th and Mission while drinking 1 dollar PBRs.  That’s right.  A buck!  That’s cheaper than Cold Beer, Cold Water (which is obviously the ultimately comparison point).