April 2012
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Turk & Larkin
One of the patrons at Harrington’s Pub helped me figure out why I can’t remember people’s names—they need to tell me how many times they were married, how they got to San Francisco, and how they could have been rich. So from now on, when you introduce yourself to me, I’ll require your life story. Read on.
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Urbane Studies
After the money-making arm of The Society forced its hand, had to temporarily abandon the column over at SFist. This is a fancy way of saying jobs, people, we have jobs. Unconcerned with making money any longer, we return to historical edification. The first of the new series went up yesterday.
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No one can remember when the practice started, but in the slowly warming days of Spring, the men came out and secured the cards to banisters, gates, or whatever bit of architecture lent itself to speed and ease. Wishes of wellness, cleanliness, political harmony: what was written upon them did not quite matter as much as the thought that was behind them. Left alone, they would spin out their...
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Missed Connections for Other People (bonus haiku)
Saturday, Inbound 71 around 8:25AM, Lower Haight
You’d a lot to say Were you wearing a Bluetooth? Nope, just crazy is all.
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