Mission Mission

Hey guys: this is serious. If you find a bird that responds to the name “Grease Lightning” please let someone know. I’m not sure who, since this flyer doesn’t specify. Spotted at Boogaloos on 22nd and Valencia.

In case you haven’t been to every high school musical production in America at some point:

Edit: Better pic via local Olympian Shannon Rowbury‘s twitter. Wow she’s young, beautiful, can run faster than almost everyone in the world, AND she can take better pictures than me. What the hell am I good for? Don’t answer that question.

Thanks Catherine!

I don’t go to Blondie’s. Because I live here. Right??

Anyway, I went to Blondie’s on New Year’s Day to wash off my hangover with some tequila and my weird friends got Bloody Marys with bleu cheese olives and sausage olives. The general response was that bleu cheese olives are good and sausage olives are bad, “like little meat ice cubes.”

*Did it!

This shit is off the hook!  Not only does this group look absolutely elated to be alive, we have a Walter Sobchak lookalike!  Solid.

(Oh, if this is your camera, you can holler to get it back)

I have absolutely no idea what this dance party is about but it’s a goddamn tatted unicorn smoking a cigarette.

Ha!

I always thought The Knockout was a place where people who still think Nirvana is indie went to score blow.  Turns out people dance there too!  I had been seeing these pictures pop up on flickr a lot and kept thinking “what brand of douchebag goes to a club that, presumably, hires some jackass to take photos of their trashed customers, watermarks/brands/copyrights the photo, and upload them to flickr?”  So I decided to do a little recon/spectating with the ultimate authority of Mission douchebags last night.  Dunno about it.  Felt like a more over-hyped promoted/less fun version of emo night at Pops (which is free and they serve $1 high life).  The whole time I was there nothing really notable or exciting happened.  Some drunk chicks hit the photobooth but the whole thing was mostly shouting at your friends over the DJ.  Rolled out at midnight, went to Farolito, savaged a burrito, and went to bed.

Of course, some of my friends stuck around.  Got this text this morning:

“Forgot to tell you about the girl who was peeing in the urinal as I was puking in the stall.  Told me not to turn around because she was embarrassed.”

Chris, did you get any snaps of that?

Went to Santa Cruz the other day to ride bikes/remember what 70 degree weather is like/make fun of hippies and stumbled across this beast.  Forget about that fixed gear noise, belt drives are the purest form of cycling.  I asked the owner if he liked the bike: “It’s great.  She’s ready to go whenever I want.  Don’t even have to use lube.”  Zing!

In other news, being covered in liquid horse shit is very fashion forward.

Mission Thrift keeps it gully.

(via We Built This City)

Flickr wizard GrimReynard brings us this eerie shot of the mission at 9am on January 1st 2010. I think the commenter Whole Wheat Toast puts it best with: “Dang, it’s hecka empty!”

Still waiting for KevMo’s aftermath pix.