driving through the mission, we thought we might not be able to find this place, but luckily we saw what we were looking for: a single palm tree next to a neon sign. this place is exactly what I picture an old lounge to be like. not the crazy slick uber-hip lounges they are building these days, but more down to earth, with white tablecloth covered tables to sit at. this seems like the kind of place where someone in the corner would be playing a piano, and you’d find it in some old movie… or maybe in Reno. it looks like the kind of place that must have been really nice a few decades back, but now is just a relaxed bar with a chill crowd. there are very few tables here, so on a busy night it’s probably just about impossible to find a place to sit. there’s also an… errr… interesting statue on the wall that tom is pictured next to.

i have no idea what is going on here

i have no clue what is going on here either… nor why my clothes look wet

the Lone Palm is at 3394 22nd Street in San Francisco

*v

what exactly is the deal with San Mateo that it thinks it can charge way more for gas than everywhere else? yeah, gas is expensive these days, but still most stations are selling gas for like $2.75. the Shell station by my work in san mateo is selling the cheap unleaded gas for $3.14!!!! what the hell?!?

and, speaking of gas, dan recently showed me this link. now i think i’ve seen it all.

-v

I used to live in the inner sunset and drove by this bar every time that I drove to or from SF. I’ve always wondered about it. in my mind, this place would be all historic looking on the inside, with lots of armchairs and people smoking pipes. people would be sitting around and playing chess with each other, or lazily leafing through thick books while they drank cognac. possibly a person or two inside would be wearing a monocle or maybe even a top hat. who knows.

well, my dreams of this place were shattered when I finally went there. instead of the philosopher’s club, they should have named it “Nondescript Bar” or possibly “Just Some Bar". or, I guess they could have named it after the very weak drinks that they pour. none of us were very impressed by this place. oh, and they had a bunch of big screen TVs which just really don’t seem to belong in a “philosopher’s club". the only thing this place really had going for it was that it was pretty much the only bar in the area. I guess if you are in the West Portal and are stranded, this could be your local bar. luckily, we weren’t stranded, so we left after 2 drinks.

Philosopher’s Club is at 824 Ulloa Street in San Francisco

*v

wow. I really can’t even begin to describe how disgusted I am right now. ugh.

the other night I was listening to the radio when I heard a news report about people having protests and demonstrations next to soldiers’ funerals. Now, I am totally against the war in Iraq. From the very beginning, I’ve thought that attacking a country without any real justification is utter crap. So of course I totally support people who protest against the war, but doing so at a soldier’s funeral is just wrong. First off, there’s no reason to be disrespecting soldiers… it’s not like it was their decision to go to war; they’re just following orders. Second, regardless of who is at fault, it’s just messed up to be disrespecting the dead and to cause any additional grief to the families/friends of those who are mourning. There’s a time and a place to make yourself heard, and at a funeral is not it.

But it gets worse. As I continued listening to the radio, I found out that these people aren’t protesting the war at all. They’re protesting… homosexuals. Yes that’s right. You may wonder what the fuck gay people have to do with soldier’s funerals. Well it turns out that these people believe that the reason why our troops are being killed in Iraq is that America is tolerant of gay people. Yes, believe it or not, that is the twisted fucking logic that these people believe. They think that because people in our country are ok with people being gay, god is punishing us all by killing our troops. How utterly insane does one have to be to believe such utter crap?? And fine, if you’re going to be an total dumbass and have such idiotic views, then keep them to yourself… don’t go and agonize those who just lost their loved ones.

The people who are doing this belong to the Westboro Baptist Church, and they have been doing it so frequently that 5 separate states so far have had to pass laws making it illegal to protest within 300 feet of a funeral. These people, who’s website is quaintly named “godhatesfags.com”, really are fucking unbelievable and I was just horrified at some of the signs that they bring to these funerals. “fag soldiers in hell”, “Thank god for dead soldiers”, and “they turned America over to fags, they’re coming home in body bags”. Also, apparently being a psychotic homophobe is something the whole family can enjoy, as they bring their little kids to join in the “fun”.

really, what the hell is wrong with these people? It’s almost hard to believe that people like this exist. UGH.

*v

Last week I wrote about how Dan was going to have his kitty talked to by a kitty psychic. The appointment was scheduled for a Tuesday evening, and that night we sat there eagerly waiting to see what the hell would happen. Dan set up this crazy microphone contraption so that he could record the whole thing on his laptop. Dan’s cat lazily lounged around in the living room, completely unaware that tonight it would be having its very first telephone conversation.

Eventually the psychic called. She asked Dan to describe his cat to her, and tell her what it looked like, how old it was, etc etc. now, you would think that a super powerful psychic would be able to figure this kind of stuff out on her own, but whatever. After discussing what issues the cat was having (it poops outside the box and also chews up all the electrical wires inside the house), the psychic said that we could now hang up the phone. She was going to contact the cat psychically and have a conversation with it. She would write down the conversation as it happened, and then call us back and tell us what was talked about. Wow. I don’t know what I thought would be more weird… if she talked with the cat on the phone, or if she just somehow communicated without a phone or anything.

So, we hung up the phone and waited. The cat ran around the house and played as it usually did. If it was having a conversation with someone, it sure didn’t show it. Meanwhile, somewhere in Oakland, the kitty psychic was probably frantically scribbling in her notepad… or who knows, maybe she was kicking back and watching Animal planet on TV while scarfing granola. This whole situation was just so absolutely ridiculous.

Finally, the phone rang. Kitty psychic was done with her conversation. So, apparently, when asked why she poops in the box, the cat replied that it was because she sometimes gets a cramp and has difficulty climbing in the box. Now, this is utterly bullshit. It’s not like this is some old unfit cat. This cat races around the house frantically at a billion miles per hour all day long. There’s no way this cat would have difficulty climbing a few inches into a cat box. The kitty psychic continued reading off her conversation with the cat.

Dude, it was so hysterically funny. Dan, Caryn and I desperately tried to keep from laughing like crazy during the whole thing. The psychic would describe the cat as giving her “surprised wide-eyed looks” and feeling bad for pooping in Dan’s house. Apparently the kitty was sorry for pooping outside the box and it promised that it would try to not do tit again. As for the wires, the cat claimed that it chews them because its teeth hurt it and it needs to chew on something. Well, the psychic told it that it shouldn’t chew the wires anymore and the cat said it would stop. The cat was then asked what it wanted from Dan, to which it said that it wants sunshine, fresh air, rides on shoulders, fresh water, and naps in laps.

And that was pretty much it. The psychic then discussed with Dan some options that he might look into like taking the cat to the vet etc. the whole thing was just so hokey. I mean, I was hoping that she would say at least one thing… just one thing… that could identify Dan’s cat, Dan’s house, or anything really. Just anything that she couldn’t have known. But we got nothing. She told us a bunch of junk that pretty much anyone could have made up. Man, if all it takes to be a kitty psychic is to be able to come up with creative stories for 90$ per hour, then sign me up! So, we were all hella disappointed by it all. And to top it all off, less than half an hour after it was all over… the cat took a crap on the floor. Thanks kitty psychic.

*v

3/11/06

the other day was caryn’s and my anniversary. believe it or not, we’ve been together for 3 years now. pretty awesome, eh? we tried to think of something special that we could do to celebrate and in the end decided to go to Restaurant Gary Danko. we’ve always wanted to try that place out, but it’s crazy expensive, so we were always kind of waiting for a special enough occasion to come along. we got a hotel room up in SF and made sure to eat only a light meal earlier in the day since we knew it would be an extremely filling meal. when we got to the hotel, it turned out that we arrived right during free beer and wine hour! really, complementary beer and wine? well, unfortunately we wanted to preserve our appetites, so we didnt have any.

the hotel room we stayed in was small, but i really liked the funky way that it was decorated. we got dressed for dinner, and for some bizarre reason the pants that i had bought in Indonesia didn’t fit at all. uh-oh. 30 minutes till dinner, and my pants are completely jacked. ugh. in the end, i had no choice but to wear my regular cargo pants with my dress shirt and tie. sheez, what a winner… thank god the place was dimly lit. it’s crazy how well known this restaurant is. the place is super famous and usually is booked solid a month in advance. the people at the hotel, the cab driver, and basically everyone we spoke to was all “Gary Danko? oh wow, nice!". going there isn’t just going to dinner, it’s practically an event.

At the restaurant, we decided to get the five course meal… it was going to be a ton of food, but we wanted to try as much different stuff as possible. the meal started out with this tiny sample of Fois Gras Mousse with dried fruits. holy crap… this was seriously one of the best things i’ve ever tasted. i’ve always been a fan of Fois Gras, and this stuff was fantastic. wow, if the free pre-dinner snack was this good, i could only imagine what the rest of the night would be like.

As predicted, the food was amazing. really, really, really good. delicious grilled scallops, mini lobsters, seared ahi, lamb, etc etc… everything was crazy delicious and drizzled with amazing sauces. the foods were also paired with wine so we got a glass of wine with each course that perfectly matched our food. the service was super good as well. the waiter would explain everything that we were being served in detail and give us a lot of information about the wines that we were drinking. each course smoothly melted into the next and there was no pressure to eat fast, yet we never had to wait long in between dishes… everything just happened perfectly on time.

after the first three courses, we each got to pick 4 different types of cheeses from the cheese cart. for variety, i tried goat cheese, sheep’s cheese, and two different cow cheeses. all the cheese was delicious. and since we each had 4 different kinds, there was tons of variety to choose from. by this point, we were starting to get pretty full. when desert came, it was almost difficult to eat anymore even though each course had been fairly small. my soufflé was just ok, but caryn’s trio of crème brullees was the bomb… coffee, almond, and chocolate flavored. YUM. wow, what an incredible dinner. of course, such things dont come cheap, and when we got the bill it was a whopping $400. ouch!! oh well, it was totally worth it to do this kind of thing on a special occasion… and our meal lasted almost 4 hours!

*v

i randomly won tickets to a show that was here so we went to go check it out. the space was pretty cool with rickshaws set randomly throughout the room so people could sit on them. there’s also a rather large upstairs area too. the bar itself was super small, or maybe it just seemed really small since the room that it was in was pretty huge.

-v

Rickshaw Stop is at 155 Fell St in San Francisco

Dog’s Bollix is an Irish bar that we just stumbled into at the end of a night. now, this wasn’t your cheezy “hang some shamrocks on the wall” kind of Irish bar. this place was hardcore Irish with war posters on the wall, old flags, coat of arms, jerseys, etc. the bartender had an Irish accent. this was the real deal. we had come here fairly late, only half an hour till closing, so there weren’t a ton of people there or anything, but the place still had a warm friendly vibe. it totally seems like the kind of place where you could come all the time after work and chat with the bartenders. also, unlike the crappy Rockit room next door which had “last call” fairly early and jerks were yelling at me to leave as I closed out my tab, this place served us drinks practically right up until 2am. nice!!

The Dog’s Bollix is at 408 Clement St in San Francisco

*v

Li suggested we try out this place called the Rockit Room in the Richmond. despite it’s lame name, we decided to give it the benefit of the doubt. I guess the place is a concert venue so the bands there “rock it” or something. from the outside, this place looked all sleek like it was going to be all fancy inside, but once you get through the door, the inside just looks like a lodge or something with everything made of wood. service was slow and not particularly friendly either. there were a bunch of flat screen TVs all over the place. now, my opinion has always been that if you want to watch TV, just stay home. TVs don’t really belong in bars. bars are places where you are meant to be social. you should be drinking, talking to your friends, and possibly playing pool… not zoning out and staring at a screen. to make things worse, TVs have a way of grabbing your attention, so even if you don’t want to watch, you end up getting sucked in.

I’ve been trying to try drink specials as much as I can at the bars I’ve been going to, so caryn and I each chose a drink (she had some key lime thingy and I picked a chocolate raspberry concoction) and I went to go order them. the bartender warns me that the specialty drinks are 14$. fourteen dollars?!?!?! for *one* drink?? that’s way too much. he goes on to say that the drinks are really really big though, and taste great. I end up agreeing, and when he makes the drinks, they come in just regular martini glasses. huh? how are these “really big"?? that’s how big *all* drinks are. at this point, I started thinking that maybe I misheard and it was actually 14$ for two.. but no. when I got my bill, it cost me $28 for two drinks. yeah, sure they ended up tasting pretty damn good, but this was the biggest rip-off of all time. even the nice drinks at Voda , which is way more fancy of a place, cost much less than that. no wonder they don’t list the prices of their drinks on their menu… it’s because no one would want to get ripped off by paying their ridiculous prices.

one of the main reasons why Li wanted to come to this place was that it had a foosball table. he is pretty damn good, and really awed the people at the bar with his skills. one guy at the table could not stop yelling about how impressed he was. well, li, caryn, and josh went on to keep massacring people at foosball for a while, but then they finally met their match and got beaten.

so, overall, I wasn’t really impressed by this place. kind of a rip off. plus, it seemed like it really wished it could be pretentious, but couldn’t really pull it off.

Rockit Room is at 406 Clement Street in San Francisco

I don’t really have too much to say about the International Sports Club. we had decided to check it out since it was next door to Kennedy’s. well, they didn’t serve curry like Kennedy’s did, so that was a strike against them already. They also didn’t have a foosball table or air hockey. Basically, I really couldn’t see any reason to go to this place if you have Kennedy’s right next door. What they did have was a drunken frat guy who decided, instead of waiting in line for the bathroom, to piss on the kegs that were sitting in the hallway. Classy! Also, their bartenders lied to us and said that the place had run out of beer and only had liquor left. Minutes later, we saw them serve beer to someone else. Why would you lie like that to your customers?

So basically, I cant say I got a good impression of this place. Oh wait, now I remember what this place had that Kennedy’s didn’t… at Kennedy’s they served only beer/wine, but here you could get the hard stuff. In fact, we had come here specifically to get some Irish carbombs, but as I mentioned, we were told that there was no more beer. Lame! So, I guess if you’re desperate to drink hard alcohol, you could check this place out, but otherwise, definitely stick with Kennedy’s.

Tom earlier in the night

By the time we left the place, tom was pretty smashed, so I’m not sure what he remembers about this place (if anything), heh. When we dropped him off at his house, he ended up sleeping the night away on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table. The next morning, his roommates woke up to find: an umbrella in the microwave, a shoe in the fridge, a flip-flop in the freezer, condiments in the bathroom, bath products in the kitchen, a kitchen chair and George foreman grill in tom’s bed, and tom with no pants on. Now, I wont comment here on who did what, but I will say that none of us did anything to tom’s pants. We’re good friends with him, but not *that* good friends.

Tom later in the night

International Sports Club is on 1000 Columbus Ave in San Francisco

*v