Mission Mission

Passed this just off Mission Street, in the alley adjacent to Yo’s Sushi Club, in which neighborhood celebrity Ralph Carney was dining. Might could be a bomb too? Dunno, but I do know Upper Playground only gives you one if you spend $100 or more on designer t-shirts and hoodies, and here’s one you can have for free. And it’s full of stuff!

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Outside Doc’s Clock the other night, we noticed this odd window display at a wedding dress shop: a female mannequin in sequined party dress being asphyxiated by a pulled-taut length of twine pinned to the store wall. Though kind of erotic, this is a bit disturbing for a neighborhood storefront.

Look at this gem I found in today’s Missed Connections:

“cute white girl with bandanna at delirium saturday night. – 25 (mission district)”:

you had a tshirt and jeans on and a cute little bandanna around your neck. i was wearing jeans, tshirt, and a cute little bandanna too. We kinda matched. You have a tattoo i believe a band around your left bicep. You look more like a harcore kid than a hipster. Your guy friends were totally entertaining, the one in the suit and the aviators totally castillo inflable macked some asian girl right in front of me. You were totally cute. I am smitten. hope you had a good birthday. I’m always at delirium, maybe i’ll see you around.

Link.

Reader submission:

Lola: i have something for missionmission

Sent at 10:28 AM on Sunday

me: bring it on

Lola: just sent it

it’s a photo of two people getting married in bubble wrap

taken on my street

me: ha

Lola: godinheaven i love the mission

Photo by Cruey. Thanks, Lola.

I wanted to get in on the blogging-about-The Wire bandwagon (my favorite so far is Stuff White People Like #85), and then I saw this fabulous t-shirt by Mule Design Studio.

So I’m thinkin, we all know somebody should make a gritty urban crime drama about SF, prominently featuring the Mission District. Sucker Free City took a glorious stab at it (and captured the Mission in all its cinematic wonder), but Spike Lee kiboshed the whole thing. Now The Wire‘s done and Gavin Newsom’s definitely maybe running for governor. He’s Tommy Carcetti incarnate and then some. This is a show waiting to happen: somebody please resurrect SFC or start anew or something.

Visit Mule Design’s blog.

Buy Sucker Free City on Amazon, because it’s really good.

Beauty Bar, San Francisco originally uploaded by charlotte.wright

I’ve noticed the droves of young females who spend their nights at Beauty Bar. It’s mainly young undergrads who’ve recently migrated from Southern California to a three-bed share in the Tenderloin. Their version of the Mission is meeting friends at Puerto Allegre for uninteresting margaritas and enchiladas, then shaking their shoulders with some date-rape shirt to some sub-par DJ at Beauty Bar. A few months go by, and they’re standing in the cocaine line at Delirium wondering if the douchebag in the corner with the purple kerchief sitting pretty on his scruffy, smelly neck is checking out her American Apparel sangria-colored tights. Do these tourists make the Mission, or does the Mission make the tourist?

mission hipsters wait for brunch, originally uploaded by maximolly.

Yelper Jeff A., in his assessment of some random Marina bar, brought up a serious Mission-related issue, one we’ve often referred to as “crack addict or hipster?”

Jeff says:

• Blue Light is, quite literally, the only game in town on a Tuesday night, aside from Milk. Chodes or thugs, respectively… take your pick.So here we go: Blue Light’s Taco Tuesday by the numbers, as observed over a three-hour period:
• Tacos: $1
  Coronas: $2
  Margaritas: $3
  Nachos: $3.75
  Striped Shirts: 34
  Backwards Baseball Caps: 13 (!)
  Fake Tits: 5 pair (10)
  Volume: 8
  Douchode Quotient: 7.5
• So yeah, it’s douche deluxe, and you’ll likely want to murder a significant fraction of the clientele, but that’s a small price to pay considering there are actual “hot chicks” here.I mean, let’s get real.
• The other day I saw a pregnant woman at a bar in the Mission and absentmindedly (ok, “stonedly”) thought to myself, “Oh, that’s great. What a blessing.” Then I realized it was just a fat hipster.
• This very afternoon, I happened upon a young lady crossing 16th St. wearing some sort of brightly-colored prosthetic apparatus on what appeared to be her injured leg; closer inspection revealed that it was merely a garish leg-warmer of some sort.
• Seems like these days it’s the dope boho shizz to appear as though you have a serious health condition. I shall be teh PIMP HOTNESS of the Valencia St. corridor once my prosthetic goiter and sparkly colostomy bag arrive.

I mean, we hate the Marina, and we have no real reason to side with this Jeff A. character, but his argument is kind of solid.