Posts filed under ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words’
My trusty Honda is capable of more than I knew…
Apparently we’ve traveled 334 miles per hour. Not sure how we managed it, but not too bad.
The San Francisco Bay Area… like no other place in the world. Thank goodness I have a camera phone… here are all the vehicles i have seen in the last few months with odd things in or attached to them…
Having a pickup comes in handy for transporting large globes.
Yes, that IS the same truck that was carrying the big globe the day before…
The last of which has a fake doll dressed like a bride in shotgun and when he drives, she starts dancing. Only in Santa Cruz…
If the name of your business is “Parking Solutions,” make sure you know how to park.
Shoes shined by the homeless on a mobile chair stand? Could happen anywhere…
Get your ipod fixed while having your shoes shined by the homeless?
ONLY IN SAN FRANCISCO.
The other morning, I was walking down Spear Street in San Francisco, and saw this on the ground outside of an office building:
You got it. A printer thrown out of the window of an office building in an obvious fit of rage. There’s still paper in it!
Am I the only one reminded of the movie Office Space with the scene where they steal the printer and beat it senseless in a field? Here’s the clip (but if you’re sensitive to foul language I suggest you turn down the background music).
Some of our more seasoned readers will remember Jdon. His last post on this blog (almost one year ago!) was a prescient bit of commentary on the candidacy of John McCain. In the immortal words of former Arizona Cardinals coach Dennis Green, “[He is] who we thought [he was].”
Well, since I last saw Jdon in June I’ve been doing some delicate intelligence gathering as to his whereabouts over the last several months. Review the evidence and judge for yourself.
It seems fairly innocent at first. A photo of a performance at Jordan Smith’s wedding. Then a lazy afternoon with the Obama’s…hmmm. Then we see Jdon playing a key role for the National Champion Florida Gators, under a false name, no doubt because he exhausted his NCAA eligibility while playing goalie for BVD Hockey.
The next several photos are disturbing. You see Jdon with then-Governor Blagojevich and Senator Roland Burris. Clearly the contact with Blago was damaging, as the next photo finds Jdon with the Dear Leader, Kim Jong Il.
I demand an accounting from this lost soul. Come home Jdon…come home.
In the summer of 2006 JL and I welcomed our first child into our home. Like most parents, we took our boy home from the hospital and thought, “What do we do?” Quickly we found out. We were swept up in a world of insanity. Many times during those first months I thought to myself, “Why do people ever have a second?” Somewhere in that process we received a letter from our homeowner’s association. Welcoming our first child into the world? Congratulating us? Offering neighborly aid? No, no, no. The note read: your grass is too long, your shrubs are unkempt, and the bush in your backyard is too tall. It stung. I read the notice on my front porch as I walked in from work. I felt watched. Not only that, I felt judged. And found wanting.
Today a real infraction has gone on in the old ‘hood. And I want the HOA flexing serious muscle. What could bring about this change in heart? Maybe it’s my tendency to demand leniency for my mistakes and swift justice for those of others.
Yep. There are five of them. And they’re hanging on 12 foot tall stakes. If you can’t quite make out the picture, those are bloody torsos. My grass never came close to being this offensive.
So, here’s to making all the houses look the same on the outside just like in the ol’ Bloc. Happy Halloween. As a guest poster, I’d also like to say that with only a few days until Halloween I am expecting another guide to trashy costumes.
I live in a city that is not poor. It is the Venture Capital mecca of the world, and people with six figure incomes are considered “the needy”. And so, when I pay what I do in rent, there are certain things I don’t expect to find on my sidewalk.
Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES was I prepared to have to hurdle over a pair of men’s brief’s on my way to my car. Klassy with a capital K.
(Slightly redemptive to the den of sloth in which I live, my downstairs neighbor is playing Gershwin on his piano right now)