So this is my third post where I am going completely off topic. (Topic being bar design and the insiders views on it.) But seeing as how we have a major election coming up I feel it is time to get in the know with this whole red vs. blue situation. My sister forwarded this to me and I feel I need to pass these wise words on. And if for nothing else it will give you a little chuckle.
Enjoy!
Dear Red States:
If you somehow manage to steal this election too we've decided we're leaving. We intend to form our own country, and we're taking the other Blue States with us. In case you aren't aware, that includes California, Hawaii, Oregon, Washington, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois and all the Northeast. We believe this split will be beneficial to the nation, and especially to the people of the new country of New California.
To sum up briefly: You get Texas, Oklahoma and all the slave states. We get stem cell research and the best beaches. We get the Statue of Liberty. You get Dollywood.
We get Intel and Microsoft. You get WorldCom.
We get Harvard. You get Ole' Miss.
We get 85% of America's venture capital and entrepreneurs. You get Alabama.
We get two-thirds of the tax revenue, you get to make the red states pay their fair share.
Since our aggregate divorce rate is 22% lower than the Christian Coalition's, we get a bunch of happy families. You get a bunch of single moms.
Please be aware that Nuevo California will be pro-choice and anti-war, and we're going to want all our citizens back from Iraq at once. If you need people to fight, ask your evangelicals. They have kids they're apparently willing to send to their deaths for no purpose, and they don't care if you don't show pictures of their children's caskets coming home. We do wish you success in Iraq , and hope that the WMDs turn up, but we're not willing to spend our resources in Bush's Quagmire.
With the Blue States in hand, we will have firm control of 80% of the country's fresh water, more than 90% of the pineapple and lettuce, 92% of the nation's fresh fruit, 95% of America's quality wines, 90% of all cheese, 90% of the high tech industry, 90% of the corn and soybeans (thanks Iowa!), most of the U.S. low-sulfur coal, all living redwoods, sequoias and condors, all the Ivy and Seven Sister schools plus Stanford, Cal Tech and MIT.
With the Red States, on the other hand, you will have to cope with 88% of all obese Americans (and their projected health care costs), 92% of all U.S. mosquitoes, nearly 100% of the tornadoes, 90% of the hurricanes, 99% of all Southern Baptists, virtually 100% of all televangelists, Rush Limbaugh, Bob Jones University, Clemson and the University of Georgia.
We get Hollywood and Yosemite, thank you.
Additionally, 38% of those in the Red states believe Jonah was actually swallowed by a whale, 62% believe life is sacred unless we're discussing the war, the death penalty or gun laws, 44% say that evolution is only a theory, 53% that Saddam was involved in 9/11 and 61% of you crazy bastards believe you are people with higher morals then we lefties.
Finally, we're taking the good pot, too.
You can have that dirt weed they grow in Mexico
Peace out,
--Blue States
Welcome to the second installment of My Marina Experience. (If you missed part 1 please read the previous post before indulging in this tasty morsel.) This addition takes a close look at my favorite creatures (the marina guy and girl) in their natural habitat. I stepped into their mecca, barely able to make it out alive. Now without further adu I bring you:
The Marina Experience: Is there fart scented candles in here?
Neighborhood: Marina/Cow Hollow
3200 Fillmore St (between Greenwich St & Moulton St)
San Francisco, CA 94123 (415) 567-0918
Neighborhood: Marina/Cow Hollow
3200 Fillmore St (between Greenwich St & Moulton St)
San Francisco, CA 94123 (415) 567-0918
I finally arrive to Fillmore after what seemed hours of listening to the Lucifer's of the world praising each other. My night didn't start until a bit later (11 o'clock) so when I stepped out into the world the sloppy slutty soldiers were hard at work. (this refers to both the males and females forms) After side-stepping some of the worst 'pick-up' verbal diarrhea I have heard in awhile, I arrived at my destination. Now, I don't know if any of you have been to City Tavern but if you are a man and not wearing a stripped shirt with a roofie in your pocket or if you a woman not wearing the uniform and ready to go home with pretty much any guy, well your tour ends here. I, of course, am always wearing the districts uniform and always ready to go home with any number of eligible bachelors, so my access was granted.
Within moments I was swimming in a sea of strips. Fortunately, since it was Fleet Week I got the rare opportunity to see these strips go into battle royale mode with a bevy of white (It was like West Side Story up in here. But way gayer). A word to the wise, gentleman, you will never win when up against a sailor.
Not because they are stronger, in fact the ones at the bar looked like the pre-pubescent sloth from the Goonies. Not because they are less desperate, pretty sure after getting man-on-man action on the high seas they are more desperate and willing sleep with anything. And not because of their outfits, you all look gay to me. It is because of their hat. For some reason, women want to put that silly thing on and wear it around like they haven't been sleeping their way to the bottom. Yes, I'm talking about you, girl in unflattering red dress.
After pushing my way through a bar that is clearly over capacity, I finally find Lindsay. If you don't know the layout of the space, there is one semi-circular elongated bar in front separated by booths from a seated section in the back. Off to the side are tables up against large open windows. That is where I found her. I am extremely happy she chose that as a destination because the smell in this bar was atrocious.
Could it be that someone had plugged in one of those ionic air fresheners and set it to spray the scent of fart every 30 seconds? Or possibly the management knew how to keep the numbers down by lighting fart scented candles and strategically placing them throughout the bar? No, the marina boys just know how to hold their flatulence in until they get to the bar. I think they all put on their stripped shirts, pop their collars, and call eachother to make sure no one has farted until they get to City Tavern. (I can't say women partake in this ritual because as all men know, women do not fart;)
So to make a long story even longer, I have officially reached my quota on you, Marina! I will not be returning for at least another couple weeks. I swear!
(*Of course I can't completely cut the Marina out of my life....I have to have something that makes me feel better about myself;)
...and scene. Exit stage left.
Within moments I was swimming in a sea of strips. Fortunately, since it was Fleet Week I got the rare opportunity to see these strips go into battle royale mode with a bevy of white (It was like West Side Story up in here. But way gayer). A word to the wise, gentleman, you will never win when up against a sailor.
Not because they are stronger, in fact the ones at the bar looked like the pre-pubescent sloth from the Goonies. Not because they are less desperate, pretty sure after getting man-on-man action on the high seas they are more desperate and willing sleep with anything. And not because of their outfits, you all look gay to me. It is because of their hat. For some reason, women want to put that silly thing on and wear it around like they haven't been sleeping their way to the bottom. Yes, I'm talking about you, girl in unflattering red dress.After pushing my way through a bar that is clearly over capacity, I finally find Lindsay. If you don't know the layout of the space, there is one semi-circular elongated bar in front separated by booths from a seated section in the back. Off to the side are tables up against large open windows. That is where I found her. I am extremely happy she chose that as a destination because the smell in this bar was atrocious.
Could it be that someone had plugged in one of those ionic air fresheners and set it to spray the scent of fart every 30 seconds? Or possibly the management knew how to keep the numbers down by lighting fart scented candles and strategically placing them throughout the bar? No, the marina boys just know how to hold their flatulence in until they get to the bar. I think they all put on their stripped shirts, pop their collars, and call eachother to make sure no one has farted until they get to City Tavern. (I can't say women partake in this ritual because as all men know, women do not fart;)So to make a long story even longer, I have officially reached my quota on you, Marina! I will not be returning for at least another couple weeks. I swear!
(*Of course I can't completely cut the Marina out of my life....I have to have something that makes me feel better about myself;)
...and scene. Exit stage left.
It has been ages but now I'm back!
My trip was amazing. It has taken me a solid week to recover from the jet lag so my blogging has gone soft. (Wow, never thought I would use that line when referring to anything other than my gentleman callers but I think it totally works!) My plan was to report back my crazy adventures across Europe, show pictures, make people jealous, and fight global warming. It turns out getting to the computer was a drag, posting pictures was not the easiest thing (especially since the guy I went with was holding them captive and refused to answer an f*ing email), making people jealous was way funner(yes I know it isn't a word) done via phone, and if SF keeps getting weather like what we got going on right now I don't think I want to fight;) To sum it all up, I am back bitches...and ready to judge!
So lets begin...
For anyone that has been reading my past entries (shout out to you, my 3 dedicated friends) you know that I am looking for the insiders scoop on the layout/design of a space. Well this is going to go completely against what I originally set out to do with this blog. I can't help it. I spent 2 whole nights in the Marina, during fleet week and I feel I must drop the design talk for a moment and focus on the perfection that is Marina people watching. I can't even play my most favoritest game in the whole world...it is just to easy. I mean you just can't write this stuff. (of course, I can and I will)
The Marina Addition: Did you say subway sandwich Jared?
Balboa Cafe
Neighborhood: Marina/Cow Hollow
3199 Fillmore St
(between Greenwich St & Pixley St)
San Francisco, CA 94123 (415) 921-3944
www.balboacafe.com
*I must say you all should really read the whole post. Much happened pre-arrival to the Marina. But for the type that doesn't want to spend a couple extra minutes reading, here is the edited night you impatient bastards!
*I must say you all should really read the whole post. Much happened pre-arrival to the Marina. But for the type that doesn't want to spend a couple extra minutes reading, here is the edited night you impatient bastards!
I arrived in the marina (shout out to Omar that gave me a free cab ride!), met my drunken roommates, and we head over to Balboa Cafe. Um...I am curious as to what any of those people that frequent that neck of the woods do other
than show off their awesomeness? I feel like it is a full time job leaving absolutely no time for anything else. All I saw was a blur of stripped shirt wearing, fake blonde hairing, Audi key chain hanging drunkards. It twas a vision. We enter Balboa Cafe and since I happen to live with 6 very attractive gentleman (no I am not part of a fraternity...men are just easier to live with), the cougars pounce immediately. I found that the more desperate cougars sit closer to the front of the bar allowing for first dibs on their prey. Well played , ladies! I try and make my way to the back in search of a guy that might have a tattoo that isn't barbed wire around his arm or a man that didn't place each hair strand in perfect unison or even a guy that wears a second hand tee shirt. No luck. I step outside because I need a breath of fresh air and to clear the scent of desperation from my nostrils. Within seconds I am approached by a gentleman that could possibly been the retarded brother of Screech:Him: "Hey, you want to go to this amazing loft party down the
street."Me: "Um, hi my name is Jocelyn. And no."
Him: "But it is supposed to be amazing! Full of celebrities."
Me: "Fine, I'll play along. What celebrity?"
Him: " Jared! You know...from subway."
Me: "Excuse me, did you just say Jared? Like from the subway sandwich commercials?"
Him: "Ya, he is at my friends amazing loft. Right now. Just down the street. You have to come hang out."
Me: *Actually I had no response. I walked away.
Really guy, Jared...a celebrity? And even more concerning, is that how you pick up women? Throwing out commercial stars names. I figure if you are going to throw out commercial celebrities names at least make it the Mac guy. At least he has been in some movies. Oh Marina, you never fail to impress!
Addition 2 will be coming shortly!
Gimme More!
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Who Am I You Ask
I am looking for the next wow factor in Hospitality Design. You may think that you like a place but save your judgments until you hear what is actually going on Behind the Bar.