Meanwhile, in Vallejo....

(via the Times-Herald)

Woman brandishes gun during Vallejo bar melee

A man got beaten up and a woman brandished a shotgun during a melee in the Blue Rock Inn bar parking lot early Thursday, police said.

A 22-year-old Vallejo resident told officers he was outside the bar, in the 200 block of Springs Road, smoking a cigarette when a suspect punched him in the nose and grabbed his necklace, Sgt. Herman Robinson said.

Two other suspects struck the victim from behind, and the victim's female cousin tried to help him, Robinson said. A witness said the three suspects fled in a silver Hyundai Access and drove south on Oakwood Avenue.

Witnesses said a woman, described as a 50-year-old with long blond hair, brandished a gun at the victim while standing next to a small car, Robinson said. No arrests were made.

Not sure why, but I was fascinated by this story. Here we have a guy just trying to enjoy a smoke outside the Blue Rock Inn when he gets punched in the nose! And somebody tries to steal his necklace! Actually, judging from the looks of the Blue Rock Inn, I can't say I'm 100% surprised by this battery/attempted larceny incident.


I have to say, I don't see the Blue Rock Inn as a destination for New Bar Night any time soon. Despite its 2 cheerful Yelp reviews! Ricardo A. opines thusly:

this was my last bar on my 21st b-day and it was really nice and calm no beer from the tap but overall really comfortable and they also let you smoke in here the bartender was really nice. i had spilled my beer ( lol i as kinda drunk by the time i got here) and she was very kind and cleaned it up i did tip her ok lol they only have one pool table and there is a much older crowd in here but overall good spot to hang out if u wanna smoke.

Wait a minute. If they let you smoke in there, what was 22-year-old Vallejo resident doing in the parking lot? Hmmm, maybe there's more to this story.

ANYWAY. We're getting off-track. This necklace must be made out of pure diamonds or something because it took a concerted effort by three people to get it. And one of them, who we'll call "Wanda" because she seems like a Wanda, was a 50-year-old woman with long blonde hair toting a MOTHERFUCKING SHOTGUN. Damn, Wanda!

Google Image Search result for "50-year-old woman." Is this our suspect? PERHAPS!

I'm picturing Wanda with a Benson & Hedges 120 dangling from her lips, telling her younger crime partners to "kiss her ass" if they disagree with her. And yet Wanda can be sweet as hell. She calls you "darlin'" and totally fed that homeless Mom and her kids for free one night at the diner where she waits tables four nights a week.

The story doesn't say whether Wanda et al. got away with the necklace. Anyway, next time you're in Vallejo, keep your eyes peeled for a 50-year-old woman with long blonde hair driving a Hyundai Access. Your necklace: she wants it.

Be safe out there this weekend, kids.

Trouble

Apropos of nothing, I was thinking about bar fights the other day.

Maybe I'm just lucky, but I've managed to mostly avoid bar fights (or fights in general) during my many dissolute years of bar-going. Honestly, that shit is stupid and I fail to understand why someone looking at your girl would provoke a violent outrage, but I guess some assholes just want to get into fights and need an excuse.

I can only think of a handful of times when I've even been close to getting in a fight, like:

- A couple of weeks after I made the catastrophically bad decision to move to Santa Cruz, one of the Worst Places on Earth, I was playing pool in this dive called the 1007 Club. I hadn't noticed that more people had come in and someone had written his name on the chalkboard to play next game. I started to put quarters in and the guy totally got in my face and was screaming about how he was next and I was like "Fine, whatever, you're next." Looking back now, I realize that he was probably tweaked out of his fucking gourd on meth, like 90% of everyone between the ages of 19 and 29 in that Godforsaken shithole.

- One weekend afternoon I was hanging out at the Columbus Cafe with my ex-wife and drinking and playing the jukebox and shit and this little angry Scotsman started hitting on her right in front of me. He offered to buy her a drink and I said "It's cool, I've got her drinks" and he FUCKING FLIPPED OUT and told me to come outside to settle this and I was like "No, I think I'll pass" and then the bartender kicked him out. The bartender told us the guy works on a ship and comes in whenever they dock in SF and gets into fights.

(Knowing what I know now, I should have let him buy her the drink, then jumped up and pointed and said "A-HA!!! NOW SHE'S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM!!!" and run out.)

Other times I've been on the periphery of big fights that have started and spilled out into the street. Whatever, that shit is boring.

UPDATE: Humorously, between the time when I first wrote this and now, when I'm about to post it, I have learned that Famous Teen Mom Bristol Palin almost got herself into a bar fight recently:

Bristol Palin was riding the mechanical bull at a Hollywood bar in front of a throng of paparazzi and reality TV cameras, when a rude drunk yelled, "Your mother's a whore!" Bristol marched up to the man, jutted out her new chin, and got into a heated confrontation:

Man: She [your mother] is evil.
Bristol: You want her dead?
Man: You know what, if there is a hell, and I don't think there is one, she will be there.
Bristol: OK, why is that?
Man: She's evil. She's evil.
Bristol: Is it because you're a homosexual?
Man: Pretty much!
Bristol: And that's why you hate her?
Man: And why do you say I'm a homosexual?
Bristol: Because I can tell you are.

On the way out she gets into a fight with another pair of angry drunks, including one who yells, "White trash Wasilla!" and "You fucking bitch!" as Bristol and friends storm out of the bar.

"Is it because you're a homosexual"? Who the fuck talks like that? Although, I gotta say, it's probably a drag when you're out for your usual night on the town being followed by a camera crew and wearing an ugly sweatshirt that says "Empowered" on the front with a Lightning Bolt Cross and some stranger says "Your mother's evil." I guess that would suck.

(This all happened at Saddle Ranch, right? That place blows.)

Trip Report: Fresno!!!

A couple of weeks ago The Wife and I were watching the Giants lose again and they mentioned calling up someone from the Fresno Grizzlies and she said "We should go to a Fresno Grizzlies game sometime" and because we are People of Action and not just Big Talkers, on Saturday we found ourselves in a car driving to Fresno.



One of The Wife's work friends is from Fresno and I guess knows people associated with the team so we got tickets in what I assume is like Club Level here at AT&T Park and got some concessions vouchers and stuff like that. That's all nice, but the greatest gift we got was the hotel he recommended: The Picadilly Inn Shaw. I shall explain in just a moment.



Fresno is flat as a pool table and searingly hot, which felt great after the Non-Summer of High 50's in SF. When we got there it was 104. As far as I can tell, Fresno is comprised mainly of strip malls, chain restaurants, and chain everything else. So I guess it's like most of the rest of the country.



ANYWAY though. The Picadilly Inn! I don't know where to start. It was obviously built circa 1972 and NOTHING HAS CHANGED SINCE THEN. It is like visiting the set of a movie that's set in a hotel in 1972. I mean, look at our room!







That picture actually makes it look creepier than it was, which is sort of unbelievable. But it really did have that trapped-in-70s-amber vibe.



Anyway, our room was on the second floor and overlooked this garden where they were setting up for a wedding. We were kind of absently watching through the window when The Wife started to notice something. "I think there's 2 brides," she said.



GET. THE. FUCK. OUT.



So they're setting up and we decide to hit the bar up for a drink and guess what? THERE'S SOME KIND OF RODEO CONVENTION at the SAME FUCKING HOTEL and the bar looks like a slightly spiffier Deadwood. I mean, all they needed was a player piano and a bartender with a handlebar mustache and those arm garter things.







On the way there, we pass one of those little signs that tell you where things are in the hotel and it said something like "Congratulations Roxanna and Noemi"!!!! AWESOME!!! I mean, here we are being all Too Cool For School from San Francisco and we walk right into a Lesbian Wedding in Fresno. Fresno! I misjudged you and feel bad now!



We got the drinks to go and hustled back to the room to watch the wedding. I can report that both brides wore white. They looked amazing and happy. CONGRATULATIONS, ROXANNA AND NOEMI!!!



Then we went to the baseball game. The stadium is in Downtown Fresno which has obviously seen better days. Apart from the people going to the game, downtown was populated exclusively by homeless people. We walked through this pedestrian mall thing from the parking garage to the ballpark. It had obviously been an effort to get people hanging around downtown but didn't work. As we passed one older homeless lady, she greeted us by saying "Suck it, bitch." AND A FINE GOOD EVENING TO YOU, MA'AM! Anyway, nothing you can't get anywhere in SF.



The park was really nice and obviously recently built. It was a delight to sit outside at night and watch a baseball game in shorts and a t-shirt. It was 90 degrees at 8:30 p.m.





I don't have much to say about the game. Barry Zito - remember him? - started for the Grizzlies and was doing OK until he sprained something and limped off the field. The other Grizzlies pitchers weren't very good. They lost.



The next day we drove home. This was uneventful except for a stop at the Carl's Jr. in Atwater, California. HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS I have never seen a bigger collection of weirdos and freaks than at the Carl's Jr. in Atwater, California.



The Atwater Carl's Jr. has 3 Yelp reviews! If I were a jackass enough to post Yelp reviews, here's what mine would say:



"I'm not sure who was more impressive, the Charles Manson clone with a neckbeard and prison tattoos who stared malevolently at my wife the whole time we were there or the Tweaker Family featuring the kid was unusual facial hair and a topknot ponytail and Morbidly Obese Uncle with a definite Lou Albano vibe, but the crowd at this Carl's Jr. made the backwoods family from 'Deliverance' look like the Algonquin Round Table.



"Also, I'm not 100% sure if anyone here has ever assembled a hamburger correctly, but it usually involves something more than randomly shoving a meat patty and a bun and some wilted lettuce into a paper sleeve.



"It did have a bathroom, though, and also a parking space in front of the door which facilitated our very rapid exit."



So, yeah. Fresno. There you go.

Did you misplace your Insanity Machine and accidentally leave it turned on?

I first heard it last night around maybe 7:30. It was a sound like a truck backing up, but just three beeps in a row.

BEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEP.

Of course, the first thing you think is, "That's a truck backing up" and resume to your normal activities.* As I did. Which was drinking a beer and watching "Locked Up Abroad" on DVR.

(Just in case you don't watch "Locked Up Abroad," let me give you some advice. When someone offers you $6,000 to smuggle cocaine on a plane from Lima to - well, it was Cape Town, South Africa in this one, but really, it applied to anywhere - DON'T DO IT. Also, great show. Also, the actors they use in the reenactments are always way better looking than the actual person. I mean, I almost want to fly a few kilos from Bogota to LA just to see what kind of hot dude they get to be me on the show.)

But then it goes off again. It seems louder! Like it's COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE!!!

BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEEEP

So there I am like a crazy tweaker on a five-day run tearing the house apart looking for the hidden CIA camera except in this case it's not a hidden CIA camera it's a fucking beeping noise making thing. I pulled the smoke detector down and examined it like I could visually see where the noise was coming from or something. BUT IT WASN'T IN THE HOUSE because the next time I was outside taking the recycling out I heard it again EVEN LOUDER.

BEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEEP

ANYWAY, I know this story is way boring but I also SWEAR TO GOD it was a real noise because The Wife heard it too when she got home.

We didn't hear it again for a long time until 6:22 this morning when it went off like an Exterior Alarm Clock

BEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEP BEEEEEP

and we were lying in bed trying to sleep and then the dog decided that would be a good time to start licking himself so it was like BEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEP BEEEEEEEP SLURP SLURP SLURP

and the cat, never one to be left out of any fun, started doing her "Hurt Cat" cry OWWWWW OWWWW OWWWWW that she does when she thinks she's not getting enough attention and at that point I just said fuck it and got up.

If that thing is still going off when I get home I'm going to freak out.

So the moral of the story is, if you left your Insanity Machine on in the vague area of my house, please come pick it up.


[*] True story, there's an alarm system/loudpseaker thing where I work and occasionally the security people come on and say shit like "There is an emergency situation on the fourth floor. Please listen for further information" and it''s usually some false alarm - well, since I've worked there, it's always been a false alarm, not usually - and then after a while the Security Person hops back on the intercom and says "The emergency situation on the fourth floor has been cleared. The emergency situation on the fourth floor has been cleared. Please resume to your normal activities." That's right, not "resume your normal activities," but "resume to." I've often wondered if that jacked syntax appears in the Operating Manual because it was badly translated from Chinese like alarm clock instructions, or if it was passed virally from the Ur-Security Person on down the line. Anyway.

Crime Report

Whoa, there is a lot of weirdness in the past 24 to 36 hours. Let's start off with Alex Trebek:

Alex Trebek, host of the television game show "Jeopardy," was injured early Tuesday as he chased a burglar in his San Francisco hotel.

The longtime game show host appeared on crutches Wednesday to host the National Geographic World Championship at Google Inc.'s Mountain View headquarters.

"It happened at 2:30 a.m., chasing a burglar down the hallway of my San Francisco hotel, when my Achilles tendon ruptured and I then fell on carpet, bruising the other leg in process. Surgery on Friday," Trebek said, according to Patch.com. A spokeswoman at the Marriott Marquis confirmed the incident took place at that hotel.

San Francisco police officials confirmed a burglary at a San Francisco hotel early Tuesday, but would not identify Trebek, 71, as the victim. Lt. Troy Dangerfield said two people were asleep in a hotel room when "around 3 a.m., one of the victims awoke to notice someone in the room and then noticed the suspect leaving the hotel room."

Hmmmm. Does anything about this sound perhaps maybe somewhat suspicious to you? I mean, how does some rando chick get into a hotel room in the middle of the night? I dfon't know about you, but I always use every goddam locking mechanism they have on the doors, and there's always one that keeps the door from being opened from the outside, like a chain or that weird U-lock thing that flips over the knob thing fuck I don't know what it's called but you know what I'm talking about.

Now, I don't want to engage in rank speculation, but I just want to say that it's possible - possible - that Alex and his +1 met the suspect, "Lucinda Moyers," at the View Lounge and closed that place and then maybe suggested they blow a couple of rails back in Alex's room and everyone was having a good time when Alex went to the bathroom and the +1 was otherwise engaged and Lucinda thought she'd make a break for it and grabbed his wallet and took off and Alex came out and was all "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT BITCH DOING" and took off down the hall and ruptured his Achilles. PROBABLY NOT, but I'm just saying it's possible.

I also love the pic that SFGate went with:

No flash photography! I'm doing key bumps over here! Aaaahhhhh! Bright light!

Let us now turn to the world of Aviation. Regular readers of this space are well-aware of my sometime troubles with Air Travel. I tried communicating with the airline, but by then the troubles have long passed and I'm not that mad anymore. Brothers "Jonathan and Luis Baez, both of Las Piedras, Puerto Rico," have a way of more directly and immediately communicating their dissatisfaction with their carrier: punch out the fucking pilot!!!!

A man punched an American Airlines pilot who kicked him off a flight from Miami, and he and his brother then attacked the pilot again before bystanders tackled the brothers in the terminal, officials said Thursday.

Jonathan and Luis Baez, both of Las Piedras, Puerto Rico, were arrested at Miami International Airport. They had been aboard American Airlines Flight 1755 bound for San Francisco on Wednesday night, according to an arrest affidavit.

While the plane taxied away from the gate, a flight attendant noticed 27-year-old Jonathan Baez was sleeping and had not buckled his seat belt, police said. She tried to wake him, but she told police that Baez was unresponsive and appeared to be intoxicated or on drugs.

The pilot turned the plane around and returned to gate D51.

Luis Baez, 29, decided to join his brother as he was being escorted off the plane. As the brothers walked toward the aircraft's exit door, they became belligerent, and Luis Baez told the pilot, "When you fly to San Juan I will have you killed," according to the arrest report.

The brothers walked off the plane, but then Jonathan Baez returned and punched the pilot in the face and hit the flight attendant in the shoulder when she tried to intervene, police said.

Both brothers attacked the pilot again in the jet bridge and chased him in the terminal, according to the arrest report.

Other flight crew members and passengers held down the brothers until police arrived.

The only appropriate sentence in a case like this: middle seats between two fat guys with colds for life.

Finally, let us turn to a crime that is shocking in the extreme because it occurred at a place where so many of us feel safe: the Lagunitas Brewing Company in Petaluma. Some Guy from Tiburon and his girlfriend were taking the tour and whatnot when they ran into some Stranger Danger:

Officers arrested a man who was taking a tour of a brewery in Petaluma Tuesday evening after he allegedly robbed another tour member at knifepoint, police said.

Ben Davis, 26, of Windsor allegedly befriended the victim, a 24-year-old Tiburon man, and his girlfriend while taking a tour of the Lagunitas Brewing Company brewery.

Police said Davis confronted the victim with a knife in a restroom during the tour and demanded his wallet.

Davis allegedly took the wallet, left the brewery and drove away. Officers responded to the brewery around 5:20 p.m. and learned that the victim's girlfriend had taken a picture of Davis before the alleged robbery.

Now, I'm no Criminal Mastermind or anything, but I feel like once my victim photographs me, I'm either (a) calling off the Planned Bathroom Knife Robbery, or (b) taking the fucking camera too.

Anyway, Ben Davis of Windsor, way to harsh Tiburon Man's mellow.

Be careful out there, folks.

The Bachelorette: Anybody got a Dad they can spare?

Like Ashley Chipmunk, I am also currently on a Hometown Date, except that mine consists of drinking on my Dad's back patio until 1 a.m. in 80-degree heat and hanging out with the extended family, while Ashley's consists of a painful road trip across America where she is confronted by Greek ladies asking how soon can she drop everything and move to Atlanta because they need a waitress stat.

Anyway, I knew I said I probably couldn't do the recap but last night all of us were burnt out on boozing and so we gathered around the family TV and watched Ashley make a series of semi-awkward to outright painful visits to these losers' families. Up first is Constantine, who I was really hoping lived in a tenement in Greek Town somewhere but who sadly hails from a McMansion in a featureless suburb of Atlanta. It seems that his family runs Giorgio's but that's cool because ethnic food is ethnic food, right? Pumpkinhead and Chipmunk visit the restaurant and pretend to make food and I don't think that kitchen crew is Greek unless Greece has relocated to Oaxaca. Then we get on to the Family Portion and Mom immediately puts the screws on Chipmunk to relocate and then Dad offers that she has a "gorgeous personality" which is Greek for "I'd hit it" and then clearly at the urging of the producers they have a My Big Fat Greek Reality Show moment and do that circular dance around the dining room and then Dad makes it rain and throws money in the air like he's some old Greek 50 Cent and the whole thing is just sort of sad.

Next we're going to visit the factory where Ames was assembled! Oh, I mean Chadd's Ford, Pennsylvania, which is so white it makes "Leave It to Beaver" look like "The Wire." Ames's "family" look like leftovers from an 80's movie about preppies and his sister has a sixhead just like him and tells Chipmunk how "romantic" he is and, what, did you two used to date? Where's Dad, anyway? Oh, we find out Dad died. Then Stepdad died. This is very sad but also I hope someone looked at Ames for the Dad Murders of Chadd's Ford. Ames needs to prove that he's not gay, so natch he takes Ashley to the "most beautiful garden I know," GREAT JOB AMES just like any old straight guy would say and they have a picnic and he tries to romance her by lowering his robot head onto her face for Lip Engagement Sequence Number 47B and I think it's safe to say that Ames will be parked back in the garage at the end of this episode.

OK, off to Sonoma to meet Early Man Ben F.'s family. They tromp off to his winery to have the now-oblig. picnic and Chipmunk wants to know if there's anything she should know. "Well, actually," Ben says, "my father was a silverback gorilla," oh, no, wait, his Dad is dead too. All these dead Dads are bumming me out. OK, let's meet the fam. Well, his sister sure is a handsome lady! She assures Chipmunk that Ben is in touch with his emotions. Good thing, because Mom isn't exactly a waterfall of feeling. Something else may have happened but I kinda zoned out a little at this point and I was also playing Words With Friends at the same time. It's a good thing that whoever named Words With Friends didn't name other games too or checkers would be called Moving Discs Across a Flat Surface. But I digress.

Last stop: Long Island, to meet JP's fam. They start out with a little roller skating to "I Can't Fight This Feeling," and I guess the rights to that song are so cheap now that even "The Bachelorette" can afford them and why are we even doing this? Let's meet this family. Oh, thank God, Mom has the Classic Long Island accent. Look, JP has a Live Dad! Now we're getting somewhere. He sure doesn't say much, but at least he's still up and mobile. Everyone talks darkly about JP's last relationship and how much it fucked him up and by the way they're talking it sounded like he needed electroshock to get over this bitch and what the hell did she do? Ohhhhh, maybe that's why Dad's so quiet! Anyway, we all chow down on some lasagna and Mom hauls out the Embarrassing Photo and that's about it.

Back in LA, Chipmunk sits down with Chris Harrison and God save our fucking souls, we are going to rehash the Bentley thing one more fucking time. They recap the dates a little and it's clear that Ames is already her Gay Best Friend and they're totally going to have slumber parties and watch Audrey Hepburn movies and talk about boys.

Time for the cuts Yes, no surprise. Ames is let go and he talks about how "poetic" the whole thing has been like he could get any gayer. So the final three is Pumpkinhead and Early Man and GI Joe. Good luck with that.

Speaking of the weather....

I'm off tomorrow on a semi-brief trip to that aforementioned furnace-like middle of the country area. Here's my near future:


Looks like it might rain. No, looks like it might APOCALYPTICALLY STORM WITH SLASHING RAIN AND ANGRY BOLTS OF PURE ELECTRICITY but I guess that's hard to fit in the little columns.

Here's how my little trip might affect you:

- No Bachelorette recap on Tuesday. Probably not until Thursday, actually. I don't know how I would explain to my Dad (1) why I'm watching the Bachelorette, and (2) taking notes while doing so.

- A SHARP INCREASE in travel-related posts on Twitter if even the SLIGHTEST THING goes wrong during travel tomorrow or Tuesday.

Anyway, have a good weekend and all. Don't do anything fun without me!

This short anecdote is illustrative of the way The Wife thinks

We were recently walking near Union Square, by where all the hotels are, and passed by the back door/loading area for some hotel, and there were 4 or 5 guys loading a series of Igloo-type coolers into a car. They were all wearing like hotel uniforms or something.

She asked me what I thought was in them and I said I had no idea.

She said she thought it was probably organs stolen from hotel guests who are now lying in their bathtubs packed in ice, still sedated, and the organs in the coolers were being loaded for transport to wealthy foreigners who bought them.

Could be.

Have a great weekend.

(P.S. You know what one of the hazards is with following ballplayers on Twitter? You find out that they have opinions that differ from your own and then you don't like them as much, even when they play for a team you like. Just today Jeremy Affeldt, a relief pitcher for the Giants who I basically liked despite his ridiculous chin beard thing, retweeted Rick Warren saying something about "Planned Parenthood's Scandal" with a link to some anti-choice group's website. Oh great. Now every time Jeremy Affeldt pitches I'm going to think about how he's all anti-Planned Parenthood, which basically means that you're anti-health care for poor and middle-class women, who might not get it any other way. I'm sure Jeremy Affeldt's wife can afford all the top-notch healthcare she wants, but a lot of people can't.)

(True story, when I was younger and poorer, my ex got her health care through Planned Parenthood and I don't know how we would have afforded it otherwise. So all you people trying to defund Planned Parenthood, go fuck yourself. God, that makes me angry.)

Brief reviews of things from this weekend

Churchill: The newish bar on Church and 14th. Friday happy hour was like the 3rd or 4th time I've been there and it is always packed. At least during the times I go there. They are going to make SO MUCH MONEY. Anyway, I like the place OK, I guess. I'd like to go sometime when it's not crazy busy to get a better idea. I had a Pimm's Cup (give me a break - it was like 75 degrees out, that's like Crazy Surface of the Sun Hot in SF) that tasted a little weird, not sure why. The Sister's Moscow Mule was pretty badass, though. 7.5/10

Uber car service: We go outside, The Sister pushes a button on her iPhone, and we're getting into a black town car driven by "Mischa" 3 minutes later. I did not pay for this service, so it was a fucking awesome way to get across town. How can you not like riding in the back of a town car driven by a guy who may or may not be in the Russian mob and never takes off his sunglasses? 10/10

The Royal Cuckoo: Newish bar on Mission and Valencia. I don't know, it's probably better when it's dark out. We got there at 7:30 and it was still bright out and it didn't seem exactly right. I like the feel of the place, and there are the usual artisanal cocktails and hand-muddled herbs and whatever and also a guy showed up and started playing a Wurlitzer organ and we all got a little Twin Peaks-ed out and went across the street to Knockout for beers. I'll try it again, though. 6.8/10

Nickie's: I always forget how much I like Nickie's. Everyone there is super nice and it's got a great convivial vibe, which you want from a pub-feeling kind of place, and I always manage to get into a conversation with a stranger here, usually someone interesting. I gotta start going there more often. 8/10 [Oh look, I wrote about Nickie's in 2008 and said about the same things. Well, good to know it's still good.] [Also, Nickie's, your website auto-plays music! BAD!!! BAD!!!!]

The brunch I made at home on Sunday: Scrambled eggs with andouille sausage, green onion, and cheddar. Hash browns. Fresh fruit. Mimosas. Fucking heavenly. 10/10

Le Colonial: Sunday was like the perfect night to sit on the veranda (and I do not use that term lightly) and have what turned out to be some really, really good Vietnamese/French food. Again with the weird cocktails, though! I got a mojito and it had orange juice in it. Yuck. But the food was outstanding and it's a great atmosphere out there on a warm night. Fucking expensive as hell, but sometimes you just gotta go for it. 8.2/10

Guy Getting Shot by BART Police at Civic Center Station on Sunday Night: They got a report of a guy with an open container of alcohol acting drunk at Civic Center Station? Dude, that is EVERY DAY AT CIVIC CENTER STATION. Fuck, I'VE been that guy at Civic Center Station. Good thing I didn't get shot. Anyway, I'm sure that it will be determined that the cops acted reasonably and whatever. That's how these things always turn out. 3.5/10

Cedar Rapids: I guess I would describe it as "cute." It's a cute movie. There are a few laughs, and John C. Reilly should get nominated for an Oscar for his supporting role as the Huge Douchebag. He was really fucking phenomenal. Worth Netflixing, I guess.

Illegal Fireworks in the Mission Last Night: Jesus Christ, people, WHAT THE FUCK. It sounded like a fucking war out there. I chugged a bottle of wine around 10 to take the edge off so I could go to bed without having flashbacks triggered and then I realized I didn't have any flashbacks to trigger but it was still pretty intense and the wine helped anyway. 1/10

I went to Oakland last night and saw some music and then my dog got attacked this morning (unrelated)

Let me just say preliminarily that I'm a little freaked out right now because when I took my dog for his walk at like 6:30 this morning we came around a corner and he got attacked by 3 bigger dogs. I got them off him and scooped him up and managed to yell "Put your fucking dog on a leash" before I saw that they had leashes on but I guess the chick walking them couldn't control her dogs. Last I saw as I was scurrying away was her chasing one of the dogs down the middle of the fucking street. My dog's back leg got cut and he was bleeding but now it's stopped but I'm kind of freaked out even though he's fine. Sheesh, being a parent must be fucking IMPOSSIBLE if I get this freaked out about my dog getting hurt. I don't know how you guys do it.

ANYWAY. Last night we went to see Okkervil River at the Fox in Oakland. I used to like Okkervil River. In case you're not familiar, it's semi-anthemic earnest guitar-based indie rock for white people. Seriously, I did not see a single Person of Color at the show. Not even an Asian. This must be what Iceland looks like.

So just a couple of observations about Okkervil River at the Fox Theater:

1. I say I "used to like" Okkervil River because I'm not sure if I love them any more. They kind of lost me halfway through their set when they did the obligatory Slow Portion with the lead singer Will Sheff just playing acoustic guitar by himself and then it went on and on and on with one dirge after another and it was SO BORING. Is it possible my attention span's gotten shorter as I've gotten older? How could that be?

2. Speaking of Will Sheff, it occurs to me that he sorta looks like Time Lincecum! Check it out:





Weird, huh?

3. I know I sound like a crank who just likes to bitch, but I have sung Okkervil River's praises in the past, so that's not entirely true. I mean, I am a crank who likes to bitch, but not just a crank who likes to bitch.

4. No, really, when I saw them at the Independent a few years ago, it was maybe one of the best shows I've ever seen! They were fucking KILLER. Significantly, there was no long boring part in the middle.

5. The encore was "Westfall" and "Unless It's Kicks," so that was good. "Unless It's Kicks" is maybe one of my favorite songs ever.

6. I like the Fox in Oakland. The floor level has these different levels that lead up to the bar and at one of them there are tables and chairs. Where anyone can just sit! Heaven for old people like me. And the usher in front of us kept shooing people OUT OF OUR SIGHT LINE like I was the Prime Minister or something! I must have clicked on some box to get this service when I ordered the tickets online.

7. The Wife drove. We made it back to SF in 15 minutes.

OK, gotta go to the 12:45 Giants game BRB.

That's right, Bumgarner's hitting cleanup.

Last night or maybe this morning I received a provocative text message from Olu. It was "Let's crush some 40s and watch this video of a Marina girl throwing up that's on this iPhone I found on the bus." No, not really. It said:

"Thought experiment. Could the Giants pitchers defeat the Giants hitters? Mind you the hitters have to pitch, and the pitchers have to field all positions."

MIND. BLOWN.

FACT: Olu and I are kind of baseball geeks. The kind that might think about this.

FACT: The pitchers totally win. Check out the pitchers' lineup:

2B R Ramirez .213

SS S Casilla .238

1B M Cain .233

RF M Bumgarner .268

CF R Vogelsong .226

C G Mota .273

LF J Sanchez .205

3B B Wilson .224

P T Lincecum .224

Are you shitting me? How is that any worse than the actual lineup they're throwing out there today? PITCHERS TOTALLY SMOKE THE POSITION PLAYERS.

Who's gonna pitch for the Fieldies? Schierholtz, I guess. We know he has a cannon. But even an 80 mph fastball is only a little bit better than batting practice. Can you see Nate turning and watching a J-San knock sail over the left field wall? YOU THINK NATE CAN THROW A SLIDER? Fuck that shit.

I would totally pay to see this, too.

Somebody doesn't like Cliff

2 blog posts in one day! I'm turning into Mission Mission over here.

Anyways, whilst out walking the dog yesterday, I came across this curious artifact on the sidewalk:

(Last name redacted in case Cliff isn't really a drunk driver or violent felon.)

WTF? It's one of those peel-off stickers that someone hasn't peeled off yet. Is this the Worst Nametag Ever or was someone planning on an Anti-Cliff campaign in my hood?

We walked another block and THERE WAS ANOTHER ONE, also not peeled. I picked 'em up, for sure. They'll be a hoot at parties.

The Wife found another one this morning when she was walking the dog. What the fuck is going on?

VOMIT TRAIN!!!!!!

SFAPPEAL IS THERE:

Officials at the San Francisco Municipal Transportation Agency are looking into why a Muni light rail operator did not let people off a train after a passenger became ill and vomited onboard, a spokesman said.

An outbound K-T train took on an unpleasant odor when a passenger began throwing up at about 8:10 a.m. at Montgomery Station, Muni spokesman Paul Rose said.

The operator was ordered to allow passengers off at Montgomery station and then to take the train directly to West Portal station, where it would be cleaned, Rose said.

"The plan was always to take the train out of service at West Portal," he said.

Control room officials, however, noticed the train still had passengers aboard as it bypassed Powell Street and Civic Center stations, and ordered the operator to stop at Van Ness station to do so, Rose said. When the train finally stopped at Van Ness station, the passengers were allowed to leave. It was then taken to the West Portal station, cleaned, and returned to service. No significant delays were reported, Rose said.

Here's how I picture it:

INT. MUNI TRAIN - UNDERGROUND

A crowded Muni train. The morning commute. Passengers sit and stand, some looking at their phones, some listening to music through white earbuds. A newspaper rustles.

Suddenly a SICK PASSENGER begins throwing up. There is an audible gasp and other PASSENGERS scurry to get out of the way of the noxious stream.

DON, a suit-wearing businessman in his late 30's standing near the front of the train, yells to the driver.

DON

Driver, stop the train! This man is ill! He is vomiting!

We see the DRIVER look over his shoulder as the train roars toward MONTGOMERY STATION.

DRIVER

The fuck you say!?

DON

Stop the train! This man needs help!

The DRIVER looks forward as the train nears the brightly-lit STATION. He narrows his eyes. We see him push the train throttle all the way forward.

DRIVER
(muttering)

Fuck that.

The train roars through the station. PASSENGERS begin screaming. PEGGY, a chubby, early-50's receptionist type, looks at the DRIVER beseechingly.

PEGGY

We're all going to die in here!

PEGGY faints.

DRIVER

Maybe.

(P.S. I'm counting this as a Muni accident, and have reset the counter accordingly.)

And then it just wasn't fun any more.

Baseball is an escape. You buy your ticket or turn on the TV and suddenly your biggest problem isn’t that asshole of a boss or how you’re going to make a credit card payment this month or whether that guy you met is ever going to call. Your biggest problem now is how to get a guy on third home with two outs in a tie game and a .228 hitter at the plate who looks like he wants to swing at anything thrown in his general direction. It’s still stressful, but it’s a different kind of stress. It’s Giants Stress. If you’ve been a fan of this team for any amount of time, you know what I mean.

That’s why last night was so jarring. What happened instantly yanked us out of Giants Stress and into real stress, the second Buster Posey was clawing at the dirt and screaming and clearly badly hurt. Just like that, we were all back in reality, and it felt just awful.

(Contra Costa Times photo)

How we got here was a perfect little microcosm of Giants baseball, and more specifically, Rule Number One of Giants Baseball: It Is Never Easy. In the top of the 9th, the Marlins scored three times to open a 6-2 lead. It looked like it was over, but amazingly enough, in the bottom of the 9th, the Giants scored two to close it to 6-4, and then Aubrey Huff, who had been 0-4 and looked genuinely lost at the plate, singled to score two more. We went to extra innings tied at 6.

Fast forward to the 12th. Still tied. The Marlins’ Scott Cousins on 3rd when Emilio Bonifacio pops up and Cousins comes screaming towards home. Posey blocks the plate, tries to corral Schierholtz’s throw, when Cousins plows into him at full speed, Posey’s leg trapped underneath him.

It was immediately obvious that something was very, very wrong. Posey was slamming his hands against the ground and writhing in pain. Giants staff crowded around him.

I couldn’t look at the replays. I heard The Wife gasp behind me. “Yeah,” she said, “it looks bad.”

And in that second, I lost all interest in this game of baseball. I’m not sure if I have the same reaction if it’s a different player, but Posey seems like such a kid – I mean, he’s 24, but looks about 16 – that I think we feel sort of protective about him. Like he’s our kid brother and we need to look out for him. I went to bed feeling sick.

We forget that baseball can be a dangerous game and, by all accounts, it was a clean play at the plate. There isn’t a lot of information right now about how bad the injury is but I think it’s bad. I’m sure I’ll be able to escape again at a baseball game, but right now, it just feels bad.

THIS JUST IN: The rumor is broken leg and torn ligaments. Poor kid.

The Bacherlorette: Don't Be That Guy. Or any of these guys, for that matter.

What if the Apocalypse really did happen and we just didn’t realize it at the time? How could we tell? One way, perhaps, is that we’re watching an Overly Excitable Dentist with the attention span of a fox sparrow look for true love on network TV. That’s right, friends, our new Bachelorette is Ashley Chipmunk.

Following the usual montage of her Failure Parade last season (not that it worked out any better for Brad, who, we can only pray, will NOT be back for a third go), we see Ashley in her current milieu of Philadelphia, doing interpretative dance in an empty theater and, God help us, dental surgery on some unsuspecting guy who can only afford to get dental work done at the dental school and I hope no one drops a pen while she’s in his mouth or he’s going to have a hole where a tooth used to be. Dissolve to LA where Ash runs around in a series of midriff-baring tops and uses the word “journey” for the first time.

Chris Harrison shows up and it’s time to get a preview of some of our potential mates in their native environments. Here we have “Ames,” who grew up in NYC and works in finance and “went to Yale, which is in Connecticut,” thanks for that detail Ames, and then got 2 Masters degrees and went to Harvard just for fun and then cured cancer and flew to the Sun in a spaceship he built in the garage but despite all this can’t seem to locate a suit that fits him. Ben F. is a winemaker from Sonoma (and San Diego, suspiciously) who has carefully tousled hair and knows what he wants in life: “a brunette.” AIM HIGH BEN F. “Bentley” lives in Salt Lake City and has a daughter named “Cozy,” not kidding, which seems like a cruel thing to do to a child, even if it’s Mormon. “West” has a Dead Wife and we are treated to the EXTREMELY GRAPHIC story of how he found her facedown in the bathtub! JESUS CHRIST THIS IS THE BACHELORETTE NOT CSI, spare me the seizure stories.

Back to our Chris Harrison sitdown w/ Ash. She has learned a lot from past mistakes and is concerned that some guys might not be here for the right reasons. RING THE “HERE FOR THE RIGHT REASONS” BELL. What’s this? She’s been pre-warned about Bentley? He’s on the show to promote his job? I hope his job isn’t naming people’s children or he’s a terrible failure. We will keep our eye on Bentley.

OK, let’s meet the douchebags. We gotta get 25 guys out of a limo and into the mansion and this is going to be painful. Tim, the “liquor distributor,” looks at her like he’s looking at a stripper and can’t think of anything to say. Stephen is a hairstylist from LA and through some herculean effort on my part I’m not making a gay joke here and he comments on her hair, natch, and goes inside. Anthony the New Jersey butcher is playing to type with his open collar and gold chain and Joey-from-Friends affect and we can smell the Paco Rabanne from here. And then there’s Jeff, who’s wearing a mask because he’s obviously on a Megan’s Law database somewhere. Then there are 15 other variations on the Date Rapist/Crispy Hair type. Whatevs

Now we have the traditional Cocktail Party, wherein 25 jackoffs try and get some Face Time with the Chipmunk to plead their case. Each one is more boring than the last until we get to one guy whose name escapes me but uses his time to CALL HIS MOM and put her on speaker and then Mom promptly tells them to use protection and this whole little psychodrama is so disturbing I don’t really want to think about it. Oh, I also liked Jon, who wants a “teammate in life” LOL what is this a motivational seminar? OH THE ROMANCE NEVER STOPS WITH JON.

Cut to Tim the Liquor Distributor. He has distributed all the available liquor into his gullet apparently because broseph is FUCKING HAMMERED. He tries to pick a fight with Mask Guy who begs off because “I’m a mature adult” and there you have it, Ladies and Gentlemen, the Mature Adult in this picture is the one wearing a Mardi Gras mask he got at Party City. Later we see Tim passed out by the pool, snoring into his mic and Tim is sent on his way and just a thought Tim, maybe working with liquor or any other alcoholic beverage is not the Best Choice for you. I do see a crossover potential with “Intervention,” though! BYE TIM.

Here’s an out of context sentence that Chipmunk said that I’m just going to park here and leave: “I always say that the man I’m gonna marry is gonna call me Cupcake.”

OK, who gets to stay? Mask Guy, incredibly. I mean, really. Ames gets a rose BECAUSE HE EARNED IT. And the hairdresser! Good. Evil Bentley gets the last rose and makes Cozy proud. This is gonna be fun. Oh, God help me, did I just say that?

FINAL COUNT:

“JOURNEY” – 5

“HERE FOR THE RIGHT REASONS” - 7

Get up close and personal with some Germans

This morning I espied this thing on the way to work:

What the? The only Rotel I know is a brand of delicious diced tomatoes with green chiles, and since no one appeared to be handing out queso dip and chips, I had to investigate further.

Guess what? Rotel Tours is actually a bus/hotel thing that people (and by "people," I mean "Germans," apparently) tour around in during the day and sleep in at night. The Rotel website is in German, so unless you know what "eingesetzten Fahrzeugen gleich" means, it won't be much help, but here's a descrip from something called "Gizmag":

The Rotel rolls a coach and hotel into one unit (or for larger groups, a bus and tag-along sleeping quarters). By day passengers sit in the front of the coach and take in all the sights, and by night they adjourn to the rear of the vehicle to enjoy their semi-private sleeping quarters.

You lost me at "semi-private sleeping quarters," but I'm not German, so I don't know about these things. Here's a pic, from Rotel's website:


Look at the happy Germans! They undt der scheeing Nordamerika in der klassiche style. Wait, what is that peeking out from under the covers on the left there? Never mind, I don't want to know. God only knows what Germans do in semi-private sleeping quarters.

You know what? I was thinking, in all fairness, it actually sounds kinda fun, tooling around in the sleeper bus, seeing the country, making new friends and whatnot. Then I came to this part:

Though the lack of showers and bathing facilities may test you if you were expecting five-star luxury, the Rotel does include an extensive drop-down "camp kitchen" and a single toilet. The coaches also stop whenever possible at campgrounds with bathing facilities to ensure the passengers don't become too funky.

You know when passengers become "too funky"? After the first fucking foray outside the goddam bus. You're all good for the first hour of your 6-week trip, and after that, you better become quickly used to German B.O. Pass.

Help me find my stolen car

My car got stolen last night.

I want to think it's God punishing me for getting a parking space DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE, but probably not, right? Gotta hand it to the SFPD: they were here at my office to take a report less than 30 minutes after I called. TRY THAT SHIT IN OAKLAND AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS. So, good for you, SFPD!

Officer #1: "Did your car have tinted windows? Decals? Anything distinctive?"
Me: "Well, it was lifted and on 24s." Not really. I didn't really say that, because it would be a lie. I also neglected to say that you would know it was mine if you found Elliott Smith and Weakerthans CDs in the console.

ANYWAY, I need your help finding my car. Below I've assembled some artist's representations of places you might find it to help you look.


It might have gone up to Tahoe for the weekend. I think it likes skiing and I never go and that upsets it.


Or it could be at trendy new Mission eatery Locanda, enjoying a "Jewish Style Artichoke," whatever that means.


Maybe taking in a Giants game tonight. Check the upper deck - I don't think it has a lot of cash for better seats.


I heard that it might have participated in last night's San Francisco mayoral debate. Did you hear a Jeep Cherokee mention anything about "building communities" or "reinventing how city hall works"? That was probably it.


Keep an eye out for it at Debaser tomorrow night. It loves shoegaze.

The Grand Unified Conspiracy Theory

In 1977, Jimmy Carter used the Philadelphia Experiment to travel back in time and take two dinosaur eggs from fellow Illuminatus Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello home. He put one of the eggs on the Roswell UFO and sent it to England and stored the other one in a janitorial closet in the basement of the Washington Monument. One of the eggs hatched in 1926 and became Queen Elizabeth II.

Years later, Franklin Roosevelt and the Bilderberg Group engineered Pearl Harbor to benefit International Paper, who would make the ration books used during the war. It was around this time that Moses appeared to L. Ron Hubbard and gave him a microfilm that contained all Scientific Knowledge in the Universe. Unfortunately, Hubbard ate part of the microfilm, thinking it was blotter acid, and mistranslated the rest. This would be the basis of Scientology.

After the war, David Rockefeller and the Trilateral Commission invented Jell-O as a mind control substance. When Jell-O proved ineffective, they switched tactics and began implanting subliminal messages in episodes of “Gunsmoke” and in Petula Clark albums. John F. Kennedy accidentally learned of the backward making operation and so Dean Martin was sent to kill him. Dean Martin is an alien. Lee Harvey Oswald just happened to be there. Jack Ruby accidentally shot Lee Harvey Oswald when he was supposed to shoot the startled-looking guy next to him, who was also an alien. This has nothing to do with the rest of this stuff; it was just some unrelated alien-on-alien violence.

Whoops.

In 1961, the second dinosaur egg hatched and Obama was born. Ironically, the egg had just been with Rockefeller in Kenya when Rockefeller was there on safari, but the egg actually hatched in the main galley of a TWA flight from Kinshasa to Montreal. When it was later learned that there may have been some alien egg residue left on the plane, it was shot down when it was flying as TWA Flight 800. The Masons decided to have a Hawaiian birth certificate prepared because the original plan was to make Hawaii and independent kingdom and Obama would be the King of Waikiki. This plan was abandoned when that title was used for a 1978 Burt Reynolds comedy that flopped at the box office.

The moon landing actually happened just as NASA reported. However, Neil Armstrong lost the film on the way home and the whole thing had to be recreated. To do this, all the Apollo 11 astronauts actually went right back to the moon and filmed the whole thing over again. There were also some aliens there too.

Most of the main Illuminati and aliens were running AT&T. They wanted AT&T broken up because one of the aliens spilled a full glass of wine on Nikola Tesla at a party in Hoboken in 1981 and there was a whole big thing about it and everyone was pissed. This ruined Tesla’s plan for him and Regis Philbin to control people by using high-intensity microbursts. Later, Tesla and Philbin invented a new people control technology, but it has only a short effective range. They are currently planning to install 726 mind control boxes in San Francisco to test the new technology.

Caution: Mind Control Box. (Photo courtesy of the SF Appeal, which is controlled by the Bohemian Club and Italian Freemasons.)

Flouride is perfectly harmless and is effective at reducing tooth decay. However, the Council on Foreign Relations spread rumors that it is harmful pretty much just for kicks.

In 1982, Obama died in a Coca-Cola and Pop Rocks accident. He was replaced by an identical, but slightly less cool, copy.

Tupac Shakur faked his own death to pursue his real interest in professional football scouting. He actually died under mysterious circumstances in 2007 after advising the San Francisco 49ers to draft Alex Smith with the first overall pick of the 2005 NFL draft.

Adventures in Dentistry

I'm pretty loyal to my service providers and if I find something that works, or at least is unobjectionable, I stuck with it, which explains why I had been going to the same dentist for like 18 years. Well, really, just the same dentist's office, since the actual dentist has changed maybe 3 times and the entire staff has turned over except for one receptionist who always calls me by name and who, come to think of it, I guess I have one of the longest relationships of my adult life with.

But after 18 years I got restless and decided to take a walk on the wild side and see what else was out there. BIG MISTAKE. I went to this other dentist in the Mission who was actually kind of cute but I felt like she was kinda phoning it in. I mean, if it doesn't hurt, they can't be doing a good job, right? Plus the receptionist didn't habla Ingles all that well and I was never 100% sure when my next appointment would be because I didn't want keep saying "Excuse me?" or "I'm sorry?" with my head cocked to the side like an idiot.

So I went back to Old Dentist after like a year and a half. Old Dentist took me back but decided that I MUST BE PUNISHED FOR MY TRANSGRESSION.

Old Dentist took a look at the X-Rays and did that thing where they stick the probe up under your gums and go "3-2-3, 3-3-3, 3-4-3" and then when they say "4-5-4" the dentist and the hygienist look at each other and cluck disapprovingly. It seems that I needed a DEEP CLEANING. If you're unfamiliar, a deep cleaning is where they peel your gums back and hammer away in there with a diamond bladed chisel and also a stick made out of wolverine teeth and a radioactive gun that shoots gamma rays and pain-water into the roots of your teeth.

A deep cleaning is also a useful way of learning valuable information from a rival!

It takes two sessions because they can't novocaine your whole face at once or you'll wander into the street and die or else starve to death because you can't put food into your mouth without it falling out. So each session's like an hour and a half and the Russian hygienist is going SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE and you can feel it in your skull even if you can't in your mouth because they hit you with 4 novocaine injections - no shit, FOUR - and on the whole it's not a particularly satisfying experience.

SO YESTERDAY I go back for the followup and that Russian is "You are flossing daily, no?" and I was like "YOU BET YOUR ASS I'M FLOSSING DAILY SVETLANA" and then I go "You know, that deep cleaning was like 3 weeks ago and I'm not even sure why I'm here" and she says "After deep cleaning, some patient need to return every 4 month," and I was like "NOT THIS PATIENT, YOU CRAZY RUSSKIE." She strapped on her gear and went to work for another 40 minutes with the saw and the high-pressure radioactive Water Pic and then pronounced me GOOD TO GO for another 6 months.

The moral of the story is: if you like your dentist - and by that, I mean if your dentist isn't psychotic or molesting you while you're unconscious - for God's sake, don't cheat on him/her. It's not worth it.

(Oh, one ironic note: Guess who needs a deep cleaning now? MY DOG. I wish I had gotten to be fully anesthetized like he does! Lucky sonofabitch. LITERALLY. KA-POW!)

TK's Earthquake Tips

Doesn't it seem like there are more earthquakes than usual these days? Maybe it just seems that way, but already in 2011 we've had 7.0 or higher quakes in Argentina, Chile, Pakistan, China, and 2 in Japan, counting the one today. And the one today was fucking HUGE.

Like any Normal Person, it makes me think we're due. With that in mind, let's go over a few things you'll need to know when the Next Big One hits here:

BEFORE THE QUAKE

- Make sure you have your earthquake supplies ready. That should include a long roll of gauze that you can wrap around your head to heighten the "badly wounded" effect. Also, a bottle of vodka is a good idea. You'll need a radio of some kind. Get a combination CD/radio player with Biggie's "Life After Death" pre-loaded because that will be good Post-Disaster music.

- If you don't have a pet, consider getting one. Besides being a fun companion, a pet is a self-contained food supply. Also, a long-haired cat's pelt can make an effective small blanket. Don't bother with gerbils or other small rodents. You can't make it work, calorie-wise.

- Prepare an Earthquake Plan. This should include a location where you'll meet up with your friends and family (DO NOT PICK THE 500 CLUB I ALREADY PICKED THAT AND WE ALL NEED TO HAVE OUR OWN PLACE) and one person designated to liveblog the whole thing.

DURING THE QUAKE

PANIC. Also, try and get some video on your phone. BONUS if it's of a shaking bookcase with shit falling out.

AFTER THE QUAKE

- The first thing you should do is try and figure out who your Leader will be in the Post-Apocalyptic Nightmare that you now inhabit. Try to gravitate towards people wearing animal skins and carrying guns. The Leader should be charismatic but also quietly assured and have a spiritual side that he doesn't reveal, except maybe in one scene with Mila Kunis.

- You will need to rebuild the shattered world, so be the first to loot a nearby hardware store.

- Try to stay out of the Rivers of Blood. God knows what weird diseases those people had.

- Now is a good time to slaughter and eat your dog. Save the haunches for yourself.

By following a few simple tips like these, you can greatly increase your chances of surviving and even enjoying the Monster Earthquake That Is Sure to Devastate Our Area.

Have a nice weekend!