Lesbians photographing lesbians and the heteros who photograph them.
Not sure the Spitzer Building really has the gravitas to pull off the surname thing.
“Where are you located?”
“The Spitzer Building.”
“Ah yes.”
Status: ungentrified.
But who would leave such a thing on the sidewalk? he says, then, finding nowhere to put it, placing it back on the sidewalk.
Tracks with my own level of enthusiasm exactly. Simpatico, this sign and I are, right down to the fonts.
(via fauxpauxsecret)
Sets my teeth on edge every time I pass this club. It’s not paradox, it’s just dumb. Something about the context. Now if it was on a strip club, it would be inspired.
Not all street art is twee murals and obtuse graffiti.
Parental & religious guilt:
Those two extortionists have been teaming up on me since 1983.
Yeah, we can tell by those classy lighting fixtures in the background.
A discomfited commenter:
I hate these kinds of stories about Oakland, they perpetuate the idea of Oakland as a non-caring warzone.
Know what I hate? The fact that Oakland is a non-caring warzone. If you fixed that, the underlying perception might take care of itself.
That said, here’s picture of the crime scene during daylight hours: bright, springy, pastel tones.
To paraphrase Dickenson, Hope is a thing with polyurethane.
And won’t those female-to-male trannies be thrilled?
Hello Kitty: in memoriam (1974-2010).
On the BART ride home this prick sits down next to me with his 40 of Budweiser.
And I’m thinking, “Great, now I have to endure this tool a for another half-hour.”
But then he opens his paper and starts to read. And just like that, he’s not a chavvy prick at all, only a working-class guy trying to have a libation on the way home. He seems to enjoy the sports page, but he reads the economic news more closely, holding the paper more tightly in his hands.
Soon after, several middle aged ladies fill up the aisle. He discreetly hides the beer under his newspaper. When I get up, he’s far more polite than I would have been with the “Excuse me”.
I know we have rules prohibiting the consumption of alcohol in public. But it’s worth remembering why we have them. It’s too bad those irresponsible few have to ruin it for the rest of us.
Is it, red ‘94 miata?
Is it?
