Whimsical Bullshit

They didn't do a good enough job burying them

Found on Modcult

What's also great about this is you know that this event was put on by a bunch of hippies, just as today a funeral for the hipster would be put on by a bunch of hipsters, and a funeral for the douchebag would be put on by me.

Cool Kid Travels: Eau de Crooklyn?

Last week I was in Brooklyn and stumbled across Bond No. 9's latest scent “Brooklyn.'” The Brooklyn perfume consists of a combination of grapefruit, cardamom, cypress-wood, geranium leaves, juniper berrie, cesarwood, leather and guaiacwood, (wtf is that?)  and for a mere $220 you can actually “smell like” Brooklyn. Don't really know where they came up with this weird ass combo to encapsulate the scent of the “edgy metropolis.” To me Crooklyn smells like wasted youth and decaying bodies but, I guess that really isn't marketable.

If San Francisco's neighborhoods were bottled up into different perfumes, what would these neighborhoods smell like? And what is the price you'd have to pay to smell like them?

Mission: Taco trucks, piss, cheap beer, expensive coffee, trustafarians. Price: One call to your parents to please, please, please let you use daddy's Amex one more time.

Haight: Drum circles, midwestern runaways that didn't get the memo that punk is dead (see: dirt, b.o., and dreadlocks), bong loads, DMT. Price: Panhandle for 48 hrs straight and pray some unwitting tourists feel bad for your 3 dogs.

Marina: The scent of entitlement, hair product, fake tanner, axe body spray, shame, chest bumps! Price: The cost of running for mayor.

Tenderloin: Crack, garbage, meth, cheap blow jobs (see: rotting teeth), poor life decisions. Price: Eagerness to give cheap blow jobs.

Noe Valley: Upwardly mobile snobbery, babies, french bulldogs (read: shit), the new car smell. Price:  Raising 2 kids, paying for private school, a vasectomy

Sunset: Isolation, depression, pseudo suburbia. Price: Moving anywhere else in the city

Castro: Rainbows, unicorns, leather daddy's leather, lube. Price: An evening at Boy Bar.

Chinatown: fish, lost tourists, the dirty 30, dumpsters. Price: Shitting yourself.

North Beach: Pizza! bros, day old strippers. Price: One lap dance.

If you have anymore ideas go ahead and throw them into the comments, and if you want to add anymore neighbs that I didn't cover, i.e. Pac Heights (I'm not sure what rich smells like) go ahead and do it.

Pug vs. Human

Dolores Park was in full effect yesterday, with a concentration of adorable at the slip n' slide.

Cool Kid Travels: Noe Valley

I figured that because it was Memorial Day weekend, I would take a trip somewhere new.  Somewhere like Noe Valley.  Totally crashed a BBQ in which featured people mixing Four Loko with Cook's between shots of tequila, a crazy cats digging holes in the garden and a goddamn hen-house full of real life hens just cluckin' and diggin'.  Fascinating!  That said, the highlight of the trip west was the sass the roommates left for each other all over the house.  Between Four Loko, champagne, sass and and sampling of Akon tracks, I'm pretty certain Noe Valley gays are my spirit animal.

These have officially replaced the icing phenomenon as my new obsession

We've all oohed and aahed over the Victorian era footage of the carriage ride down Market Street (My, that man's derby hat looks positively smashing! … are those horses?) but honestly, I find the footage in this video from 1984 far more compelling.

It's just some guy driving down Broadway onto the Embarcadero Freeway (for those of us born post-Loma Prieta who don't actually remember it, that part is actually pretty cool) and across the Bay Bridge. Towards the end he's listening to “White Lines” by Melle Mel on the radio. Basically this video is everything  - well, almost everything, since the 49ers aren't in this - that I've imagined being awesome about San Francisco in the 80s, all rolled into one. If I actually were to time-travel to the city in 1984, I'm pretty sure that I'd inevitably end up intervening in my parents' budding romance and screwing up my future existence, but after seeing this, I think it's a risk I'm willing to take.

This second video is much prettier than the other one and shows many different parts of the city, like Fisherman's Wharf when it was actually charming and not horrifying, and Mission Street when those empty theaters that will soon be condos were actually theaters. The parts shot around Nob Hill look basically the same as today, but the rest is mind-blowing.

Maybe it's just the aged quality of the film, but in this old footage the city looks so clean and well maintained, and everyone's dressed really well. I guess the world of the early 1960s really did look exactly like Mad Men! Let it be known that I fully support a resurgence of skinny ties in the Financial District suit-wearing population. For now when I want to see cute sixties style my only option is to go to Edinburgh on Wednesday nights.

So anyway, you know how sometimes on Mission Mission they post about something from San Francisco way back when and all the old timers take to the comments and reminisce? I'd be really psyched if that were to happen on this post. I love all those stories about how much cooler this city was before the dot-com boom.

Pop's First Annual Slam Dunk Contest: A Photo Journal

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!

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