The Weekend

This time it was a mix of up and downs. There were some great moments. In fact, these outnumber the others. There were some disappointments, some missed connections.

I saw a film tonight, 'Everything is Illuminated.' And I thought it was really dull. Well-filmed, though. Imagine living in a field of sunflowers.


Also, today is Sunday and luckily I did some cleaning. I was talking with my roommate about how it is good to clean on Sunday.

The best moments of the weekend. 'Gilbert & George' and Frisco Disco. But I will blog them in separate posts.

Peer Pressure Blog

You're in sf. And what do you even do? You go out, you go to shows, you make connections. But then when you're at the bus stop, i think your stamina wears out after this woman is like begging for liquor even though it's too late. And this Irish man is telling you jokes. And then this cab driver is telling you she is having trouble finding a man. They are all valid, but it's not my problem. What does this even mean? And who are these people even?

KELLEY POLAR

Check back for my review. But here is something of this album. Above, two standouts in my opinion. Below, not my fvrt trk, but interesting video, don'tcha think?

A DAY AT THE PARK/ Homeless People: Recycling 3.0

It was a Saturday, and the grass was green; the people were hungover. Everyone shouldcontribute something to a day at the park. Mine - a beautiful Indian tapestry, delicately beaded with mirrors and embroidered with renderings of the majestic peacock; purple in color. This thing is rather large, too - three full size, full-length adults or more. Tapestry done brought good karmas to our spot yo.

There were a few things that happened, extraordinary and ordinary at the same time. In order of importance.

- Bubbles. Someone was thinking outside of the box.

- Silent dance party. Fun to watch, thanks kids for reminding me that I am in the Mission. Also, your fashion is faaaaaaaaassssssssssh. The red vest does me in every time.

- Renovated vintage suitcase, recycled into a boom box. No joke! Check back for the name of the artist.

- Recycling. If life were a park, there would be no waste. . . . B4 consumers have a chance to toss the kombucha bottle towards the bin, someone is ready to usher that thing into recycling heaven. Call me condescending, or even pointing out the obvious. But this developed system of need fares quite well for the environment. Thank so much!

- PERFORMANCE ART. I heard them coming . . . as if they were fleeing from stampeding cattle. Maybe a hundred foolz, screaming bloody and hell and running down the hill, through the park. Mass pandemonium. I'm like WTF. Should I run? What are they running from? Hundreds. WTF. . . . And then applause. Oic. I am in San Francisco.

BOYS NOIZE

We arrived. I had to pay to get in. Things were aight. Made my ways up front. Havin a good time. In awe when the man came out. I immediately noticed his clean appearance (is he gay?) I was "having a good time." Dancing. In Awe. Then. . . .

SOME GUY - what is his problem even? Will not leave me alone. He's on my back. Did I even initiate convo? - no. Did I even make I contact - can't remember. Why won't this guy leave me alone? What did I do to deserve this? What makes him think he can overtake another person? So, these other two guys - made him leave! XOXOXOXOXOXO
Dancing. Dancing.


Part II

Who are these meatheads?

cause all I can see is muscles.

They are chanting 'every day i love you less and less' - a BN computer-generated "lyric."

I'm like - WTF. And it goes on and on.

I can't take it.

I condone the entire show.

And now I don't like BN as much as I used to (#2 mst plyd on LstFm).

Renegade DJ

He was there. In the park. On Sunday.

Today I saw a Free Tibet protest.

A homeless man just found a pair of women's flats in the trash - put them back! Hair is matted, but not quite dreadlocked.

I've met the bartender before. French girl. Daaaaang can't remember her name, and I don't want to ask.

When I work too much, my mind becomes restless - I needs a break.

Glass of wine.

Last night we got down.

As usual. Not too impressed. Not too impressed. But I'm no hater. Must have something to do with the shoes. First, during the day, the one-size-too-small fetish safari print along upper Haight to Golden Gate Park and back to the J-train - no good son! Then the adorable-still-even-though-I-wear-them-every weekend. Shista! My feetsis hurt.

Learned my lesson about Cab drivers - the hard way. I'm not being discriminatory. But in my experience . . . personally I cannot engage in convo with the bros . . . leads me down a dark road indeed . . . especially when it's . . . late at night, foggy outside, damp and cool, but the cab is oh-so . . . HOTT.

This pic is from The Cobrasnake. Last weekend. MSTRKRFT. Now THAT was a good show! Confetti - woo. Can you spot the photoshop?