Oh Bay Bombers, won't you stop in your roller derby tracks and tell us how you've been? San Francisco's famed co-ed blocking, pivoting, jamming squadron has been packing ever-increasing crowds into Kezar Pavilion, their historical home this year – and no wonder, they're killing it on track. To tell us by just how much, we wrangled a phone interview with general manager Jim Fitzpatrick, who we last checked in with shortly before his home opening match with league Lucifer Georgia Hase's Brooklyn Red Devils.
Say that this morning, as you swept aside your window-sash, eager to let in the “warm” summer breezes that are so characteristic of late July in San Francisco, you saw there on your sill a fuzzy little bumblebee – dead, but for all the world looking like the embodiment of the grassy field and sunflower days of your youth. Now. Have you the instinct to preserve the furry fella in, say a diorama also featuring a map of your childhood favorite municipal park and a cut out image of you at eight, perhaps attired in a swatch of that kitty cat dress you couldn't bear to be apart from at the time? (Just sayin'.) If that sounds apt, have the local horticulture-taxidermy enthusiasts down at Paxton Gate got a class for you!
After the frenzied frotting of Pride, and the general onset of sex season in San Francisco (wait, is there a not-sex season? Perhaps that first part swims in the Sea of Redundant), you have perhaps found yourself lacking a certain skill you need to get you or yours off in the most spectacular way possible. No? Ah. Well anyways, there are lots of sex skills classes this week. Maybe you can tell your well meaning but awkward acquaintance about them.
At first, we were frightened. My god, they're taking our kombucha! But though distribution of our liquid love has drastically slowed, there's one good thing about the 'bucha alcohol labeling debacle: it's been great for local businesses. That's because while bigger companies are halting production, the small scale of the Bay Area's local kombucha operations are allowing them to dodge the labeling problems of national chains. Read more »
It's happy hunting, this urban jungle. But leave the sounds of the flora and fauna to chance and you may be caught in the screeches and tweets of a tacky bird of paradise: who hasn't had their morning quarry foiled by an ill-timed burst from a passing safari-mobile bumping last year's Usher or – egads! – a morning DJ's rehash of the latest hijinx on The Hills? Best to keep that trek through the underbrush sleek and soundtracked with some of the fierce headphones on offer at local J-pop mecca New People. After all, it don't get much more wild than Tokyo fashion. Read more »
I watch as Theresa Alvarez painstakingly turns four year old Rolando Steinway-Raybon into a tiger with the palette of face-paints sitting in front of the Mission Beacon neighborhood organizer. Next to them, speakers bumped a hip hop song. Down the block of Bartlett Street where they sat, community members were buying and selling bags of salad greens and edible flowers, white peaches, homemade soaps, and pupusas that came with salad and salsa for the princely sum of $2. A lot going on at the first Mission Community Market, which Alvarez takes as a good sign.
One thing I learned yesterday about the artist in residence program at the Recology dump; Sirron Norris and other alums were not wading through the mountains of lightly used diapers and rotting carrots to cull the materials for the flights of foraged fancy they produce in the program, a 20-year retrospective of which opens today, Wed/21, at Intersection 5M. No no, they pick through the goods turned up by the city's curb-side and drop-off recycling program, which you think would be a little cleaner. I mean, look at the art they made from it. But you'd be surprised... Read more »
“What was that video about Eric? Wow! Girl's butt in your face and everything!” I hope not too many of you are keeping tabs on FOX News, because in terms of sheer entertainment value we here at the SFBG simply cannot compete with Glenn Beck and his cronies' 2009 commentary on the SF's pervert art scene. Just watching him pump his blonde little eyebrows up and down while saying the words “the world's only underground kinky art porno horror flick, complete with four men, three women and one gorilla,” – hey Beck, stay the hell away from my beat!
“Kelly, parents really need to listen up on this one,” says the somewhat stiff-jawed newscaster on News 9 Oklahoma City. Oh good, I hadn't heard another blatant attempt to scare the bejeesus out of parents in a while. They're talking about “I doser” videos, videos that cause Mountain Dew swilling adolescent nerds to approximate what they think drunk people do. But wait... free drugs? Can grownups play? Ever attentive to our readers' needs, I have sifted through the rubble. Conclusions to follow.