Mission Mission

No, not a still from the new Pixar short. The scene on Saturday at Valencia and Hill St.

The ever inventive Doctor Popular recently walked down Osage Street and discovered 32 Lou Reed stencils on the ground. Over on Objective Scenes, the group mobile phone photography blog*, of which he is a member, he posted up the below gif which moves through all of the stencils as seen by his mobile phone camera. Pretty cool result.

*That is definitely an explanation that would not have made sense to me five years ago.

It seems that the owner of Delfina and I have a shared hobby: walking around the Mission and taking random pics. Here are two of his:

Yeah, I totally want to party with this pinky.

I would call this “hip-o-critical”.

But really, whew, glad this isn’t aimed at me.

I always thought everybody at Vice basically hated SF, but a new photo essay by one of their own shows evidence of some reverence toward this city we all definitely love so much.

Night Fog Reader has the whole thing right here.

The sun is back, people.

Free power-ups in front of Bi-Rite Grocery! Only thing is, you might have to defeat a dog for it.

You might not know it, but Mr. Pickle has a sister restaurant all the way out in Livermore. Things are different there – the fresh air and open blocks of suburbs have emboldened our brined amigo to jump up and start shaking his can in three dimensions like nobody’s business. This rare photo captures the majestic beast at work, working it.

Also, how batshit crazy is their website?

Holy shit. I guess this is kinda old, but back in February these crazy MFs scaled the Golden Gate Bridge, hung out for a while, took EPIC pictures, and left without getting caught (or sleeping with the fishes). Here’s a snip of their riveting tale:

I had a sure grip on the cable but could not pull my self up. My mind raced. I was about to lose my holy grail because I had let myself get out of shape. My partner in crime dropped from the rail in exhaustion and warned of approaching vehicles. Adrenaline kicked in and I willed myself onto the orange cable.  “Just go!” she yelled.

Read on at No Promise of Safety.