V-DAY No need to go far for an anti-lame gift for the Feb. 14. C'mon hot child, live in the city — and snag your valentine a lil' somethin' from this list of SF-made gift ideas, sure to show your honey that you care about the local economy as well as that special something you guys have going on.
>> Rickshaw Bags' precious Pipsqueak handlebar bag ($25) means an end to your valentine fumbling about in their messenger tote for Chapstick or a cell phone. Bike safety: so, so sexy.Read more »
“A piece of blank paper means anything you want can happen,” SF beat poet laureate Diane Di Prima was imparting a rare free lecture on shamanic poetry, the marquee event of this weekend's popular first Free University of San Francisco teach-in at Viracocha. She had a packed the antique store-community center's first floor showroom, encouraging in regards to the FUSF collective's run at making free education available to all. But if the Free University wants to teach the world, why are the vast majority of its students – let's not parse words here – white?
Why do most alien encounter stories involve sexual liaison? Leaving aside the non-believers' theory that the yarns are the result of pervy souls in need of some quality time with a loved one, one must come to the conclusion that for the aliens, sex is part of some higher purpose. (Just kidding -- how much higher can you get?) The folks at Bent, the Bay's party for kinky youth, have this figgered, of course. This month, when many events are turning pink and heart-shaped, the costumed kinkfest pays homage to the greys, the greens, the purples, and the scaled. It's an alien get-down, and we're all invited! Just be sure and brush up on your E.T. anatomy before you go. You don't wanna be “that girl” that gets freaked out by an extra orifice or three.
Social construct-questioning rap duo (trio if you count the group's hypeman, we should) Das Racist is coming to the Independent tonight – but don't worry white people, the show's already sold out, which means that rather than sit through a scene like this, you can read the following blog post and still be able to participate in discussions of the group's artistic merit and stainless steel balls with your friends at brunch this weekend.
Here we have assembled an Interwebs dossier on the three Wesleyan boys that would call racism on oh-so-many things in our modern day society. Who would have ever thought, back in those halcyon “Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell” days that we'd be calling them astute lyricists. Which we are. And to say they're self-important, well that would be like saying it about Kanye West: a waste of time. Anyways, here's your Das Racist 101. Read more »
This much was clear. A conference room full of middle and high schoolers had been assembled and were now working out math problems. On a Sunday. To someone who wept through stats homework, it seemed like a game of Clue, who done this? At the lectern, a man shared formulas one might find useful in attempting a rapid solution of the Rubik's cube. A series of x's and y's to the nth power flashed before the hushed underage audience.
Were these kids really into what was going on, or was this some well-orchestrated parent plot to shut down a perfectly good weekend? It was Mom in the living room with the bribes and threats about not getting into college! But board game detective I was not. This became apparent when the young man in a hoody sitting on my left picked up a cube offhandedly. Without fanfare, his hands began to blur. He lined up the colors in well under a minute and set the cube back down. Welcome to last weekend's Julia Robinson Mathematics Festival, where math, it appeared, was not just a problem to be solved.
Sex education, y'all. Despite the fact that today's parents outsource math lessons to Blue's Clues, play time to iPhones, and secret homosexual programming to Gabba Gabba Hey!, the continuing furor over sex education in schools just refuses to quit talking, finish its drink, and go home. But, as a reclaimed 1900s reel of French brothel movies showing at the Red Vic Movie House this weekend (Fri/28 – Mon/31) proves, sex ed has always been around – it just used to happen in whorehouses. Read more »
Glory be OneTaste. This SF-based company is devoted to the singular pursuit of female pleasure, offering lessons in their “slow sex” technique, detailed re-programming of one's touch-stroke-lick that all but guarantees that at-times elusive female orgasm. Believe it. Fitness-business guru-crazy Tim Ferriss describes a class with OneTaste in his new book The 4-Hour Body as being highly informative and bewilderingly hands-on. He also likens the female genitalia to an Imperial Guard from Star Wars, but that is besides the point (kind of). Read more »
Edwardian Ball 2011: a journey into the abyss, the unknown, the festering macabre just inches from the surface of everyday society. You know what it is to which we refer -- where the hell are these people getting their costumes? The truly creative -- the guy whose head was encased in a glass globe filled with swimming goldfish counts and DJ Miz Margo's eye-gouged baby doll stunner among them -- surely made their own, but a trek beneath the ball's crowded main floor revealed the secrets behind the mystery behind the enigma. Read more »
They say that internet dating thing really works -- especially if you're a white male. But in the rush to OkCupid our lonely nights away, we may have missed a step. If you're going for the artificially-constructed meet-and-greet, you may as well do it in person, right? Maximum awkwardness! That's what the slew of alterna-dating events that are giggling and cautiously offering to buy you a drink this VD season are promising (no glove no love!). Below, five of the hipper – bikes! books! --options for those looking to be paired off before this warm snap ends and we all go back to our dens.