Thursday, September 30, 2010

Vacation Reunion and San Francisco Has No Onions

I really dont know where to start. Or even how to start.
I maybe picked 89 photos I wanted to share with you but now I find that a bit absurd. I know. ME?! I feel like I dont know who I am right now.
Maybe a good poop and Ill be ready. BERB.

Im back! Pushin out that toxic log should have helped me come up with a better title but it didnt. So you will have to settle with Vacation Reunion and San Francisco Has No Onions.

HAY YALL! It took more than 30 years to finally go to San Francisco. You know, I feel like the world doesnt really know me, you know? Its hard to believe, I know, but there have been people in my life who said I wouldnt really like San Francisco Ill abbr it "SF" just in case you get tired of the syllables. Korns and Jarps will have about 8-12 loving syllables in their San Francisco. But not the Chinese NEVER THE CHINESE...

mainly because of all the asshole homeless rich kids. Anyway, I LOVED THE SHIT OUT OF SAN FRANCISCO. Like, Im not even kidding. The more I think about it the more I believe I should be there. But not indefinitely. For many years, I thought of SF as a mythical land, with streets paved in gold, candy canes for street lamps, gumdrop fire hydrants, weed smoke puffin out the manholes. Ahhhhhhhh SF! I believed you were so out of reach so out of this world but now, now I touched you and fell in love with your every bit of land. Mission, Haight, SOMA, TenderNob, Downtown, Japantown (never Chinatown), Bolinas! Life meter at 70% A NEW RECORD! RAPTURE! GLITTER! TIMPANIS AND THINGS!

ANYWAY. Anyway.
The Awful Hen left Seatterg early in the morn last Thursday for the CREATURES rally.
Many feared the ultimate doom in the form of a breakdown but HARK, ALAS, ETC, we just lost 2 dang belts somehow and we were on our way.
We picked up a couple awfully fun homeless kids in Portland.

I looked over at my fine friends and became inspired, esp by their good looks. I drew a few portraits.

About 23 hours later, and just one use of the TravelJohn, we were in SF. About 7am, we met our host family. Her name was Gidget and she is always scared looking.

Since we got in so dang early and no one felt like napping in 89 degree weather, we left for the baths that TARBUS had been raaaaaaging about.


THERE! OVER YONDER! THE PACIFIC OCEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Too bad Bob and Ann had to miss this sight. The baths truly took my breath away, NAY, pinned me and ripped my blouse and bloomers. I had never seen such a beautious sight. Well, I have but this was tops. FREALS.


AND like these rocks, Kurt grows these on his lower back.


OK OK OK WHAT ELSE. Um we finally finally met up with the rest of the 1000 hipsters and rode into the night. BUT BEFORE THAT I WAS GREETED BY NONE OTHER THAN MY OLD PAL JAMES.
James is my oldest friend of all time. He and I were in art school in St. Louis, a wonderful place to slow down and noodle your brain and figure out important things like WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS LIFE and AM I A GAY and HOW TO GET BETTER AT STEALING and ACID IS OK TO DO MONTHLY WHEN YOURE A SECOND SENIOR. Seeing James slapped me back to that time when I could get away with ANYTHING.

We rode up some wild dark mountain towards Daly City. The mountain was I SWEAR haunted. There were moments where I was left in a patch of darkness, not in the fast pack or mediuim or slow pack. The darkness fooled my eyes into thinking I was riding in a deep dark tunnel (the colon) and the drastic hot and cold winds produced booty sweat and goosebumps. Menopause?! NAY! But really. It was so fucking scary.

SO we rode and rode all thru the night, then rode some more in the day. It was nice to see some favorite faces and really just my only 2 favorite gangs, THE LANDSQUIDS and THE CUPERTEENS. How bout we enjoy some photos right now.

Matt and Adam thought a manicure would be appropriate for the party. My presence there was just what they needed to ungay the scenario. SURE.

So we got dressed up as best we can but ended up waiting for Kurt to stop bleeding. However had we not waited, we would not have seen what a sharktopus would have looked like.

The party was wonderful of course. With the show not stolen by all the blood by Id say by the Latebirds' entrance. WHAT A HOOT.

And so we danced and danced. It was wonderful to see ugly packs of people stewing in their own sweat. I especially loved how my dear friends cleared the room a bit, mainly because they were the only ones not human centipede dancing.

The next day, I saw 1000 hipsters escaping the crazy house.

Then spotted a few more friendly faces.

And we made our way TOWARDS THE GOLDEN GATE BRIDGE then up MT TAM.
Ok HOLD THE F UP. GOLDEN GATE?! omg. This was like in the top 8 reason to even go to this gaymo rally and I was about to do it AND I DID. THERE WERE NO COPS! WHY?! Because I blasted on that dingdongdang bridge SCREAMING! OH SHITBALLS it was the 2nd most exciting thing I had ever experienced. First was the Hood Canal. ITS A FLOATING BRIDGE!!!!! So we made our way all the way up Mt. Tam and baked in the sun. I kind of look either Mexican or Filipino now. Same thing.

Can you imagine all those hills rolling green? I can but thats because Im an ARTIST. Anyway. The sun in the summer and spring strip the green from the grass leaving it so beautifully golden.

Then I experienced the neatest thing like ever, WE ALL COASTED DOWN LIKE 10 MILES down this dang mountain. Maybe it was really 2 miles or something but it was amazing. NO ENGINES, JUST TRAILING SCREAMS OF JOY!

Eventually we made it down the mountain, I almost lost the my pedal chain, and followed the ever so nice Mike Rafter to Bolinas Beach. I swear. This beach was the essance of the peaceful life. Its a small town with only the nicest people and just one type of business scattered down one road, one road that leads to the ocean filled with people of all ages surfing. I saw a seal head and 2 crazy old ladies who showed everyone their old wrinkly nannerningnongs.

Then we left the sleepy town to head back to SF to say our goodbyes.
This time I was more scared to cross the bridge since, HELLO, cops were making people cry. So I tried to ride conservatively and not waste any gas. It was hard to do but I thought I was doing ok. WELL we didnt just GO STRAIGHT TO THE BRIDGE. We went around mountains and mountains and scary cliff and it eventually throw me into a paranoid rage. GAS GAS?! WILL I RUN OUT OF GAS?! So we made it to the bridge. And I found Orphan Annie and rode next to her. I wanted to experience it with someone I knew so we can gush about it later. Well guess what, right as everything felt wonderful, right as I hit the first tower, the strong winds slapped my bod, and my bike slowly gave up, and laid under me lifeless. I RAN OUT OF GAS.

I pulled over so close to the railing that my pedal hooked onto the bottom of the hollow curb. I looked over saw the faces of my fellow enthusiats, ate my tears and flicked off the world. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!! Eventually, there were no more mopeds and just cars and limo busses and tiny trucks. I stuck out my thumb, thinking someone would have helped me. But no. I stood there on the curb and clutched my handlebars and seat, too scared to start crying. The wind was getting colder and the sun was going down. I didnt know what to do and couldnt leave the bike there. Then after a while, someone tapped on my shoulder. I turned around and screamed IM FREAKING OUT!!!!!!!! The 3 bicyclists screamed at me to get over the railing. They reached over and lifted my bike. I started to cry. Mainly because I was so fucking scared. They asked if I was ok, they asked if I needed a telephone. I thanked them infinitely (IM DOING IT RIGHT NOW STILL) and walked my bike down the bridge. Remember now, the pedal chain was broken so I couldnt pedal down the rest of the way. I felt defeated. Loser. Peon. Dummy.

Then I looked over and saw this.

Then realized I was no dummy. I was alive and well and walking on the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time ever. I stopped crying and I started to think about many things. Then I saw the suicide hotline phone and was reminded that this was a hotspot for the sads. I silenced my brain and just walked. I walked and walked and eventually made it all the way across. I found a pack of San Jose mopeders having a smoke in the parking lot. Right as they offered a bit of their gas, the chase truck arrived. I filled up and headed straight to the Buckshot. Seeing Travis' worried face made my heart pound. Seeing my fellow friends eager to see how I was made my heart pound even more. I wanted to cry but I didnt. I wanted a drink and some mother fucking franch fries. This was my end to the best rally ever.


The next day, we prepared our Awful Hen for her departure. Everyone was hot and tired and smelly and stoned.

It was a wonderful feeling saying our good-byes on the bus, the bus we took to SF. Travis and I were going to stay for 3 more days. Our first real vacation together.

We stayed with my friend James and his wacky fun hot teacher girlfriend in the TenderNob (Tenderloin/Nob Hill) across from this beautiful sign.

It was a real treat finally meeting his girlfriend and for him to meet Travis. We both approved each others partners and then continued to evaluate each other's current lives. Both James and I are better than we were in St. Louis. Smarter, funnier and uggad fatter. THAT CAN CHANGE MOM.

We had kick ass Mexican food then more food then more food. The Paxton store of wonderful things was my favorite so far. Oh and Mission Bikes makes me want to actually ride a bike. IN SHEEATRRG.


The next day we went to the MOMA. Ill tell you this now, SFMOMA is SOOOOOOOOOO much better than NYMOMA. I MEAN. HELLO!!!!!!!! CHRIS JOHANSON!!!!!!!!!!




THEN the next day we did these things.



THEN I forced James and Brei to eat my peoples food.

Then later we ate more food.

Then we interrupted a gang of cockroaches. I JUST GOT THE CHILLS JUST NOW.
Here's one just cuz more than one is one too many.

I love spotting Vertigo all over the place.

Right before we left we hung out in the Mission. Swung by Treats then went out for awesome gross Mexican food.

The Mission is so wonderful!

I love the street signs downtown GOOD JOB ON THAT ONE.


Then it was time to go. And I was a little sad. You know you went on a real vacation when you really dont want to go home. But since I was going home with this guy (who beat a girl at armwrestling), the guy I shared the best week with, I was ok with leaving.


My Fangs