Political process in San Francisco is a messy racket, but at least you have something lovely to look at while you’re slogging through the shit.
Let’s just keep this between you and me.
You said you wanted to look at pictures and the Internet gives you some choices.
More National Geographic than Tenderloin Geographic, this seagull abatement project.
I’ve got mail.
They came out of the tunnel and asked directions to the bridge.
Tired, tired in the bones and hours to go until I come off the color of the late winter sky.
Patient Belonging.
About as bad as learning how sausages are made, this.
Love for Three Cranes.
Revolt, drag, drugs, and true love: all will be revealed in this week’s Urbane Studies.
The plum trees bloom, birds build nests, and the holy days will be upon us soon again. Turn, turn, turn, the seasons.
Went to see this Russian boy band last night.
Born in Brooklyn but long since moved to the West Coast, my grandmother never lost her New Yorkese wit. Tongue-twisters, tales rooted in an earthly peasantry of Russians and Poles, jokey bits of language that killed the 5 year-old audience at her kitchen table.
“Lettuce elope.”
“I cantaloupe, but honeydew.”
You there, slackers, you’ve a few days yet to perfect your Valentine’s Day blowgun.