Okay, so i'm about three months or so behind the times. Sue me.

I finally did the Obama Icon thingy! Whee!

I'm meeting Duke at Taste of Lebanon after he gets off work, and on the way, i decide to play my new game: Ransom Note.

You take pictures of the letters that spell out your name. Fun, huh?

As we wander around Andersonville on the way to Jason's birthday party (which turned into a surprise engagement party! congrats Jase and B.Hof!), Duke and i snap various signs on Clark Street.

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Can you guess where any of these were taken?

Special Bonus! What word is this a part of?

This might've been on Facebook last week...but... let's play Guess Who!

Catty takes his beau to the Closet for karaoke and SOMEONE shows up and he's limping and Catty gasps, "What happened?!" and Mystery Man says that he was at Sidetracks and...

I was wearing my new platform moonboots and I'm not used to them and I usually have low-heeled shoes, and it was snowing, so there was some snow on the bottom, and you know those two stairs by the ramp? Well, I fell down those, and at first I thought I had just sprained my ankle — but as I walked around more, I realized I couldn't walk.


And next week is the finals of an '80s-themed karaoke contest, and our friend has planned Quite the Getup (it's so titillating a prospect that Cattrina is about ready to abandon his original birthday plan for Thursday — New Order vs. Depeche Mode at Neo — and...

Let me show you a picture of the wig I'm gonna wear. It's black and curly but it's not big enough, so I bought extensions and I'm gonna weave 'em in – it's my newest project.

I'm gonna be Chaka Khan. I got long purple gloves and the biggest tunic from Army Navy Surplus!

Who could this be, my fancy Nancys?

Signing off in Gossip Girl style,
XOXO

I think i asked Duke to take a pic of this dude, but he pussed out. He's got, like, a conscience or something. I find morality just gets in the way most of the time.

This is one of my favorite shots of the trip. Shutterfly offered us a free photobook, so i made one of our New Year's trip, titled "We Left Our Hearts in San Francisco." I put this picture on the back cover with the caption, "Welcome to the Castro!"

Heems, our art director, who's probably in her early 20s, IMs me, bitching about how the company that's supposed to be on our cover hasn't gotten back to her.

"fuck him" I write back.
"fuck him in the ass."

She types, "You seem to be in about as good a mood as me."

"yah, i've been more grumbly lately," i write.
"i'm turning into a crotchety old man."

"What does that make me?" Heems wants to know.

I respond: "a bitch."

Heems is laughing so hard she's crying.

A woman on the el has a pink Winnie-the-Pooh backpack and is reading a book tittilatingly titled Sexin Flexin: Sexy Street Tales. When she gets off, she's replaced by a middle-aged woman whose face bears three long scars from where someone apparently slashed her with a knife. I try not to get caught staring. Next to her is a man whose entire face is smooshed over to one side. Stroke victim?

What a pretty bunch of commuters.

"Look at all the lonely people," the Beatles sing into my ears. Then the Eels come on, saying, "I'm tired of the old shit. Let the new shit begin."

Get to work and ask the woman behind me if she got the skunk out of her house.

"No," she sighs. "Animal Control couldn't get it out. It's in the ventilation now." Her whole house reeks -- but the good news is that after awhile she doesn't even notice it anymore.

The Roxie, the oldest movie theater in San Fran. It was originally called the Poppy and even went by the name the Gaiety in the 1930s. It was later renamed to evoke New York City's noble Roxy Theatre. Note the lack of a marquee to announce what movies are playing.

In the late '60s, the Mission District went to pot, and the Roxie became a porno theater. Unfortunately, in 1976 it was remodeled and became a venue for avant-garde cinema and independent film festivals.

I mean, that's cool and all -- but jizz-covered seats are really becoming a rarity nowadays. Maybe poor George Michael wouldn't keep getting into such trouble if there were still places you could jack off in public.

Tattoo parlor in the Mission. Duke offered to be their mascot.

The cyclops were giants with a single large eye (their name literally means "round eye"). Born of Heaven and Earth, they were imprisoned in the bowels of the earth until rescued by Zeus when he overthrew his father and the other titans.

Because the cyclopes were metal workers and blacksmiths, they gave Zeus thunder and lightning, which became his weapons of choice. Poseidon was presented with his trident, Apollo got a bow and arrows made of sunlight, while his twin Artemis got arrows of moonlight, and God of Death Hades got the awesomely named Helmet of Darkness.

Odysseus had a famous encounter with a cyclops on his journey home from the Trojan War. The poor cyclops was blinded with a sharpened stick heated in the embers of a fire -- just imagine that sickening sound of melting eyeball.

I suppose Polyphemus deserved it -- the big guy was grabbing Odysseus' men, slamming them onto the ground to kill them, then popping 'em in his mouth as tasty snacks.

I watched an awesome History Channel show about the origins of various mythological creatures, and one of the coolest theories is that cyclops were thought to have been inspired by mastodon skulls -- the big hole in the center of the forehead looks an awful lot like a giant eye socket, doesn't it?

That last one didn't work right, so today's a twofer.

Duke took this shot at the bus stop. Notice the spider in the center of the pic. Pretty effin' rad, eh?