Mission Mission

The Snitch (appropriately enough) reports that the city is going to pay people to snitch:

Under a new city initiative launched Friday, witnesses or “those with knowledge of a graffiti perpetrator” can snag themselves up to $250 from the Department of Public Works for snitching.

Maybe this cuts down on boring tags on gonfiabili awnings and buses, but what about the legitimate works of art on awnings and buses? And backhoes, as depicted in the contest-winning pic above sent out stickers and awarded concert tickets for the best photos of the stickers in action, and our win was clearly owed to legitimate artist Ribity, who we would’ve shared the prize with if we could’ve).

A minute ago, WHAT IM SEEING put up a post that links to a photo set that contains photos in the 4-month-old Girafa Hunters Flickr pool. Great stuff in there. Almost as great as the stuff in the 12-month-old Girafa Flickr pool.

Update: Don’t get me wrong. Duplicate Flickr pools are great! They’re evidence — just like the vibrant imperfections of the Mission District, and the decaying cityscapes often covered on WHAT IM SEEING — that we don’t live in some kind of perfectly engineered fascist utopia. I mean, here’s hoping I don’t have to update this again next week because Microsoft’s figured out a way to cleanse its new property’s photo sharing service of duplicate photo pools.

(photo originally uploaded by elhalo)

Rotten Neighbor is an intriguing new service that invites users to tell the world about their rotten neighbors. Here, someone near 14th & Guerrero shares some woe:

this little grey minivan and it’s owner are the bane of the existence of everyone on this block. the guy’s entire life revolves around parking and re-parking his van so he doesn’t have to go get a permit. he stands at his window and as soon as he sees you go near your car, either he or one of his dozens of family members living in his building go out and cut across traffic and wait for you to move so he can take your spot. while it was a lot of fun going down to my car 4-5 times a day to “look for my gl*****” or “grab my phone” and see him piscina gonfiabile con scivolo scurrying around getting to his car, the level of annoyance far outweighed any entertainment value.

I like how they censor “glasses” because it contains “asses”. It’s still in beta, to be fair, but how are these posts going to be truly effective if they can’t even say “asses”?

(via Boing Boing)

Saw The Hives last night. Newish single “Tick Tick Boom” was the big closer, and as it reached its apex (each Hive unleashing final bursts of sonic fury), Pelle delivered a ferocious terrorist-hijacking-themed coda, shouting stuff like, “This Air Hives flight is going down!” and “Are you ready to explode?!” Luckily, after that, they came back and closed for real with the much-better non-single “Return the Favour”. I made an imeem playlist featuring these songs and a couple other highlights from last night, but WordPress won’t let me embed it here

junkiesridemunitoo, originally uploaded by allanhough.

I started Mission Mission a year ago today, largely because I just wanted to put the Two Ribitys in Love picture online somewhere. A couple weeks later, I took this picture on an outbound J Church, and I sat on it quietly until today. Happy anniversary!

Bender’s after their fire. (Don’t worry, they’ve remodeled and reopened.) Originally Uploaded by mission75

Bender’s Bar is a bar in the Mission that is normally overlooked because of its “far away” location at 19th and S Van Ness (it’s around the corner from Beauty Bar). This is the perfect place for curing those Happy Hour Blues. Happy Hour Blues are when you and your coworkers go for a drink at a bar you would never set foot in if you weren’t going to happy hour with your coworkers. It’s hard to all go out for drinks at these places because: 1) either you’re a dive-bar drinker (Bud, Fat Tire, Jack Daniels), or you’re a beer nerd (Death & Taxes, Celebration, Old Portrero) and most happy hour places only cater to one or the other; 2) Happy Hour Bars also are usually cramped in the first place, but 3) then you add 4-8 people in your crowd trying to talk over and to one another, crawling over people to get drinks, and you ultimately end up sitting cramped in the corner talking to only one person instead of a few — and isn’t Happy Hour a team-building experience?

Bender’s is nothing like a Happy Hour Bar, but it would be perfect for Happy Hour crowds. For starters, it’s HUGE. There’re lots and lots of booths, tables and long booth seating. There’s a great selection of divey and beer nerd drinks (Johnny, the owner and bartender is a long-standing and respected employee at the world-famous Toronado). There’s also good cheap bar food! I hate when you wake up after a happy-hour drink-turned-binge-drinking night with rot gut.

I propose that Happy Hour crowds travel just a little to a great bar instead of the closest, mediocre financial district/SOMA blah. Bender’s is only three blocks from BART, and if someone doesn’t want to walk those three blocks, you probably shouldn’t be drinking with them.

Thriller 25 originally uploaded by allanhough

There’s nothing more titillating than seeing posters of the best album ever on a sunny Valentine’s Day. I think I’ll bust out my Billie Jean moves tonight after the aufblasbare rutsche party (if disproportionate nipples and vomitous crime scenes turn you on, this is the perfect Valentine’s Day aphrodisiac).

Over at Disenchanted Princess, Lola describes sidewalk dining in the Mission:

Halfway through dinner a parade of weirdness started. This is why I prefer to eat outdoors, whenever possible, especially in the Mission. It’s like dinner theater. First was a typical homeless spanger. The kind who has perfected the ability to interact with you so skillfully that you can’t ignore him, but neither can you remember him later. The kind of guy who understands deeply the rules of homeless person behavior. The only part of him I remember aufblasbare spiele is his hand. He approached our table, extended his hand, and opened it conspiratorily. Inside was one shiny dime. 

“That’s a nice dime you have there,” I said, choosing to remark upon the literal meaning of the gesture rather than the implied meaning. 

Link.

Spotted on the F Market.