Me and Timmy the Gay. (I haven't had a tetanus shot in years and apparently lockjaw finally caught up with me. Why can't I seem to close my mouth in photos?)
After Meredith and I bid farewell to David Bacon, we saw a movie and then headed out to Williamsburg for Sunday Movie Night at Siege and Katie's! They invited a bunch of people over to watch the 80s classic: The Karate Kid. When Siege answered the door he informed us that it was...
On Sunday, Meredith and I met up with David ______ for brunch. (You're seeing that blank space there because after some of his co-workers Googled David's name and found pics of him on this site fingerblasting some girl on the dancefloor from a few years ago he's insisted I stop using his full name. Hahahahahah).
Back at Meredith's I whipped out my laptop to do some work and she fired her's up as well so she could work next to me (because she loves being a nerd like that).
After bidding farewell to the Nerve folks (Michael Martin refused to let me photograph him) I had to pass David and Miye's new store on Elizabeth street. David pulls "Blue Steel" as I model one of their store's funny hats.
Here's us with an elder Klingon. The two people on the left hammed in on our photo opp because they were too scared to ask the other younger Klingon for a photo. (That's how seriously intimidating he was! Other adults were too scared to ask him for a photo! Hahahahah).
Oh wait, you mean you thought I was kidding about there being Klingons walking around in there? Seriously, as funny as this picture is, this guy was TOTALLY intimidating. He had a deep, booming voice and refused to break from his Klingon character in any way. Imagine being all drunk and having this dude come over and be like "Tell me: your mission is going well?" And when you try to fuck with him or laugh he just glares and says something else equally abrasive in Klingon (yes, Klingon as in the made up language that
nerds have actually taught themselves to speak
). Too fucking much. After like ten minutes of awkward, forced sci-fi non-conversation (half of it in a made-up language, no less), I finally convinced him to let me "capture our likeness together on my holographic print cube." Jesus.
Next we took it up a notch (from DorkFactor4 to DorkFactor7 if you were wondering) and did the "Borg" themed 3-D movie ride. This photo's blurry because you're not supposed to take pics and right as I was taking it, some huge guy in god-damned Klingon outfit screamed "NO PHOTOS!" at me over the PA and this almost turned into a blurry photo of Philip and I crapping in our pants.
After getting our Warp Core buzz on, we decided to hit the Star Trek-themed rides in the Star Trek-themed casino. First we went on one of those rides where you get in a theater that's on hydraulic lifts and when stuff on the screen moves the pistons shake the shit out of the little box you're in and it feels like you're moving. These rides are great sober, but throw in a Warp Core Breach and the fun's only magnified!
Well, it turns out that Brandon Buckley (who I went to high school with) was playing drums for Minnie Driver that night (he also plays drums for Shakira! Woo!) and two other kids I went to high school with were there to see him! Here's me with Alex _____ and Larry Grodeska! They were both two years older than me and I hadn't seen either of them since 1992!
Holy crap, I'm almost a year behind on this diary and I have no idea who this girl is. Maybe a friend of Tara's from Houston that she put me in touch with? Tara, a little help?
Here's Sid and I with our smoking coconut-bikini tops. After we got our outfits on, we realized that in San Francisco dressing up as a hulagirl isn't just for Halloween and worried that some people might not ever realize that we'd even dressed up.
On the way back to my place, we stopped at Whiz Burgers on South Van Ness. Despite being in a sketchy-ass gah-gah-ghetto section of the Mission (that I almost lived a block from), this old skool 60s drivethru burger place puts In N' Out Burger (which I love) to fucking shame. Hot Damn.
Afterwards, I went back to Meredith's to say goodbye and tried to pretend I wasn't super-sad about having to go back to San Francisco all by my lonesome.
With Fiasco's very first gig cancelled because of Rothko temporarily getting shut down, we decided to eat a ton of pizza at Lombardi's and then dance our sadness away over at Misshapes. Meredith stopped at her corner bodega on the way over to Lombardi's to get our brown-bagged Sparks on.
...somebody's San Franciscian "wacky dad" showed up! Hahaha. Get aload of this guy. He recognized Michael from somewhere and started talking to him and Michael was clearly not 100% positive who the guy was and kind of uncomfortable talking to him. We did what any good friends are supposed to do when your buddy is stuck talking to someone they don't want to be talking to...
Hoodie Michael (looking like the Emperor from Star Wars, Ha!) me and Mary making a drunky-drunk face. After leaving Arrow Bar, Michael suggested we head over to the Haight and check out a house party he'd heard was going on. We were just about to all pile in his car when...
"Seriously Leigh, I know you love the movie, and yes, Sean Connery is pretty awesome in it, I will give you that. But c'mon, no more talk about The Rock, okay?"
After finishing our drinks (and wishing "The Ass" a wonderful visit in SF) we headed back to my apartment where we stopped in the lobby to take a picture of the huge mirror that's framed with an awesomely 80s splatter-paint "artsy" frame. We love art.
Before being hired by AdBrite, I'd been using their service to sell advertising on this site - on Thursday morning, I received my very first paycheck for all the ads that had been bought! Wooooo!
On Monday evening I got a call from a guy in SF named Algy (not pictured here). Algy is really good friends with my buddy Tom Donohue in NYC and Tom set us up on a man date!) inviting me out to see a band called Tarantula. Anyway, when I got to the venue, I ran into Nina's friend Jason who I knew from NYC until he disappeared into thin air. Turns out he moved to SF. You may remember Jason as the "Questionable Gay-Porno Jason" Tara and I discovered...(WARNING: EXPLICIT MAN-PORN COMING UP)
After we all had slid, oh, about thirty times each, Mike D. wanted to see if he had the camera skills to capture me doing a Grant Stoddard-inspired David Lee Roth kick. First attempt, way early...plus he's got a finger covering 1/3 of the lens.
After Mike was finished up at Casanova (PS - Mike, I have no recollection of where that box of Rice-a-Roni came from. Do you remember?), we piled into Michael's car and headed to a secret destination known only as "The Slides."
Here's me in the pre-game using the international sign language for "YOU are GOING DOWN!" (As in "You are going to lose this game." Not the other "YOU are GOING DOWN!" There's a whole different set of gestures for that one. Be careful not to confuse the two or you could end up playing the strangest game of Scrabble in your life...or uh, becoming really good friends with a deaf person. It could go either way.)
Man, sometimes you wait your whole life to see something and you finally see it and you just got to stand back and be all like "Wow, I'm finally seeing it." But then depression sets in because it's like "Where do I go from here?"
After lunch we hopped in my car and headed north to check out the Fisherman's Wharf area. Where there are all sorts of hot tourist attractions like the world famous...
On the crazy, twisty coast-hugging road back, we saw signs for some beach (Baker Beach, maybe?) and decided to head over and check it out. Maybe even take a swim!
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). Too fucking much. After like ten minutes of awkward, forced sci-fi non-conversation (half of it in a made-up language, no less), I finally convinced him to let me "capture our likeness together on my holographic print cube." Jesus.
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