Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Tales from the City

One of the things I love about SF is all the random art/graffiti and treasures you find along the sidewalk. No, I am not referring to the human feces mainly found on Haight street OR the plethora of puke in the Mission I'm talking light fixtures, tags that make you giggle, etc. Sometimes you almost feel that you can get to know someone based on what is placed outside of their building. Story number one:

The people above obviously just lost their cat due to the depressingly nearly full bag of food and cat carrier. Did the cat dissappear? Did it finally use up all of it's nine lives? Did it give it's owners the finger and say "fuck you, I'm out". Tis a mystery that shall never be solved.

Story number deux:

A "brah" garage sale. How did I come to the conclusion that these items are quite obviously full of  "Sup brah?" dudes?. 1. This was in the Marina (shhhh, I don't hang out there, I only have class there). 2. Beer pong tables. 3. "Novelty Items". In my mind this translates to stripper pole or a sculpture made out of beer cans. 4. Guitar Hero. Now, I am not knocking the awesomeness that is Guitar Hero, just that it's paired with a beer pong table usually means that these dudes are the loud neighbors you end up wanting to fucking MURDER.

Story number tres (yes, I am trying to be "cultured" by using 3 different languages in one post stfu):

This isn't really a story, more like awesome art because it reminds me of the fact that I will cut a bitch if they try and take my donut. Seriously. Also, the best donuts can be found on the corner of 9th and Judah in the awesome 24 hour place known as Donut World. An excellent place in the city to go when stoned. It got to a point where the guy behind the counter actually knew exactly what I wanted and would pull out a fresh batch of donuts. Methinks he could have been high as well... ahhhhh memories.

This is obviously a love post dedicated to the city that really sparks a love/hate relationship while living here. WOOT!

Friday, January 28, 2011

Srsly WTF City College

I, like many other peeps in San Francisco, attend the gloriously cheap City College of SF. It’s a community college so sometimes you get awesome teachers and sometimes you get teachers that bring their fucking dogs to class. In a creative writing class I took a few years ago I pretty much became the equivalent of a TA. The “professor” usually split the class down the middle and he’d take one side, I’d take the other. This was mainly because most people were too scared to show their writing. I’d always go first and beg people to tear me to shreds for this is the ONLY way to get better at writing. Screw all the compliments and coos. You need your ass tore up so you know what to change because no matter how well you think something is written you are not the one reading it, the reader is. Anyway, it was actually quite satisfying because I did get to help some people with their writing and I learned quite a lot from others.

Now on the negative side of it being a community college, about 30% of the population (yes, I just made that statistic up) are people that don’t really want to be there. These are the people that are usually fresh out of high school and their parents pretty much forced them to go because they want their kids to get all learned. These are the fuckers that write “I HAVE A BIG COCK” on desks, “tag” the walls and act all gangsta even though a majority are from the Sunset or Outer Richmond and still live with their parents who also paid their tuition. I say “tag” because a shit ton of scribbles does NOT qualify as a tag. A tag is something that requires a bit of talent (ie Banksy, ribbity, empty eyes, mars, etc) not a bunch of scribbles done in class to be “bad ass”.  They do jack all in class and irritate the hell out of the teachers. It’s insulting and annoying for the people that actually WANT to be there and actually PAID to be there.

But here’s the thing that really chafes my ass and gives light to a SRSLY WTF moment: the bathrooms. Now I’ve seen some nasty bathrooms in my day. The one that takes the cake was a rest stop in Montana that made me gag before I even entered it and a majority of the toilets were dens for some seriously HUGE spiders. Like really bad movie end-of-the-world type spiders. By the way did anyone see The Happening? FUCKING KILLER TREES?? It’s like Ents on acid and lame. At least spiders are somewhat convincing because they give that shudder factor. Anyway, the city college bathrooms rate pretty high up on the gross factor. First off it smells like the wonderful aroma of le homeless and in the chick bathrooms the sanitary disposal thing looks like a mini house and is no where near the fucking toilet. The toilet paper looks like it could be made of splinters and there are NEVER any hand towels so you have use the super loud, jet engine type hand dryer. Below are pictures of the bathrooms at the Ocean campus.

Notice how far away the waste bin is and that there isn't even one in the other stall. Seriously? This is a fucking college, not a high school. So I ask you San Francisco, seriously, what the fuck?

Monday, October 11, 2010

Hello people

I am aware of how cocky it is to assume that anyone is indeed reading this blog. But since this is my blog, my outlet, my punching bag, I shall write what I please. It’s actually quite sad that I have to become anonymous to really say how I feel. But now-a-days, since everyone is connected, venting about people you know has truly become nearly impossible. I actually have 3 other blogs. 3 OTHER BLOGS, none of which I can really just let loose and tell it how it is. Now, there is a difference between talking shit and venting. Most of the people I will refer to I love very, very much but their MOMENTARY actions or words will have to have left my jaw agape in order to make an appearance on this blog. I fear that one person in particular will be a reoccurring subject as his actions have driven me to grind my teeth at night and my palms itching to punch him in the face. BUT I do still love him.

Now, I have no problem telling someone how I feel about them whether it be positive or negative BUT I understand that there are MOMENTS in which you can not judge an entire relationship or person for or call them on because they just won’t get it or it will lead to a throw down. Let’s face it, we all fuck up and do stupid shit from time to time. I’m dishing it on this blog but I CAN take it. And I have.

A lot.

People will not be the only fodder for the content of this blog as I live in the land of make believe; others know it as San Francisco. The people here sometimes amaze me with their absolute inability to see the big picture. And the government here, jesus fuck don’t get me started.

So welcome to the musings of a fed up woman dealing with the seriously, what the fuck moments in her life.

Buckle in bitches, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.