Shitty Kitty is back from Morocco!
“As always, Telephone and Soup will bring the comic-making supplies, you bring your friends and shittiest ideas.”
Shotwells (@20th), Tonight (Thursday the 18th), 6pm til late night burrito time
Shitty Kitty is back from Morocco!
“As always, Telephone and Soup will bring the comic-making supplies, you bring your friends and shittiest ideas.”
Shotwells (@20th), Tonight (Thursday the 18th), 6pm til late night burrito time
Red Choo Choo found these somewhere on Florida Street. I wonder if the property owner likes them.
Three more long faces after the jump:
Hmm, what’s this? The flag of some breakaway Soviet republic? Fabricstan?
Nope — just a Levi’s ad…
…tacked up to the windows of Groger’s Western Store on Valencia & 26th.
Guess that explains the burnt orange bicycles and lavender sawhorse (which is now gone). For a minute I though Levi’s was opening up a store on Valencia. La Lengua would welcome you with open arms.
But you have to admit it’s rather appropriate for Groger’s. Though I really don’t know which of those colors would go best with a brushpopper shirt.
So, the Cold War ended, the Berlin Wall crumbled, and all this nostalgia-inducing kipple found its way to the Mission. But what is it? I want to feel sentimental about Gothaplast Wundpflaster (a band-aid perhaps?) and Erich’s Luxus Duschbad (dandruff shampoo for commies?). Do we have any Eastern European readers who can shed some light on this?
This stuff probably means so much more to that table of 4 German tourists who keep asking me to take pictures of them and their schnitzel. I suppose this is pretty much the equivalent to Dolores Burritos in Germany (with Franziskaner subbing for Negra Modelo), like some sort of exchange program but with restaurants instead of students. German burrito consumers probably wonder why they have to stare at a wall-size map of the Mission while they eat.
But wait; what’s this? Who else sees that? East Germans like Boney M. too?!? Now we can be brothers! What’s this soup called? Soljanka? Sure, I’ll have some more! And look, here’s Daniel Bruhl moonlighting as a waiter! Guten tag indeed.
Remember when you were 13 and tried to make your own motorcycle out of duct tape, aluminum foil, and stuff laying around your backyard? I’d hate to spoil it for the strange bearded dude that works on this thing, but it usually ends in a broken collar bone and a pile of twisted metal.
(Fell and Van Ness)

On Christmas Eve, former Mission Mission editor Kevin slammed Guerrero Street Turkish restaurant Tuba, days before it even opened its doors. An excerpt: “[G]iven the plethora of delicious Valencia eateries, no one is going to stop off for food in the place tucked away to the west with a logo made by someone’s nephew who ‘has photoshop.’ ”
Well, Kev’s pal Queen Larbs attests that, in spite of its temporary signage back in December, the place is doing well, packed full of happy couples on Valentine’s Day, and churning out lamb chops so good you’ll go back for a second order before the night is done. (The famously Greek Larbs also says some stuff about Turks and rape and pillagery, but it’s probably all in fun.) Read on.
Your favorite dimly lit music venue Amnesia (Valencia b/t 19th and 20th) is hosting a great Mardi Gras themed party tonight! They start at 9pm and the cover is $7-10 sliding scale.
Headlining are the California Honeydrops, a smokin’ rhythm and blues band out of Oakland and one of my favorites in the bay area. Opening is Damon and the Heathens, a kick-ass punky soul band. Go for the awesome party; stay for the cheap plastic jewelry.
Vids of these fine bands after the jump.
So perhaps this is the only acceptable form of graffiti? It’s hard to categorize a mustachioed unicorn as legitimate, but if tagging up the Sketcher sign can incur such community vitriol, then I suppose this is what we end up with.
Stopping by to check out a punk rock party at someone’s house (nice work bands! more DIY shows please!), I noticed that a whole apartment wall had been dedicated to just let taggers do whatever the hell they wanted. Fantastic idea, but I could have done without the acrid aerosol odor permeating the whole place. And all the Fubar.
Of course, Y2K Beavis made it all worthwhile.