In The Mission


Time to put "art" back into "fart"! Such a vibrant expression. So, you know, here's, like, things.

Creepy-ass chain.

Achtung -- I mean, attention!

L'art peureux.

Composition No. 9

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Let’s Bounce

And so we come to a farewell. Sampo owned California, taking trips and chilling out. Good times, buddy! Catch you next time.

I say "jump!", you say "how high?"



Overhearing a conversation, a young woman (straight) and a young man (gay). She tells a serpentine story about how her husband left her and how she held back her tears at the airport, only to cry inconsolably in her apartment. Way she tells it, the man finds it funny. They both laugh, she in a more resigned manner than him, having already had some time pass since the airport.

"So, I'm kind of a mess, my husband left me and I've been crying my eyes out, huge, snot-inducing, eye-swelling tears", she says, in summary.

"You should listen to Madonna. There's this great song she has."

In related news, it was the Mother Of All Street Parties People Dress Up For! SF Pride. 40 years, baby.

We staked out the craziness from above at P-Boss' place (thanks for the hospitality!)

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