Somebody call the gay circus -- Rimling Bros and Barndoor Bailey are a-comin' to town. Rainbows! Rainbows! Rainbows!
It's a whole spectrum of tacky fruit flavor down on 18th Street in the Castro, with the new ... wait for it .... wait for it ... 18th Street Bar. Extra points for the sign's tres delish font. Did they cut the letters out of felt themselves? How many Glue Sticks were used? I've got questions.
So, OK, I don't know really where to begin reading on this mess ....
... but neighborhood residents are already calling this soon-to-be-opened Castro watering hole "Skittles." The pic here really doesn't do it justice -- you have to see the whole almost-blocklength awning to get a grasp of its sheer horridness.
This is the spot where the Pendulum used to be, and one has to think that owner Les Natali, who ran into trouble about his questionable door policy at the bar across the street, SF Badlands, a while back, is punishing everyone for protesting him. That'll teach us! I can't even bitch about the sad, sad lack of any creative energy put into the name, because Greg Bronstein's Bar on Castro is just around the corner, sigh.
Please, please, please god do not let rainbows come back in an ironic way. Please, please, please do not let me see people with bleached bi-level bobs, acid wash daisy dukes, spandex tank tops, and fringe leather jackets with handpainted coyotes wearing dreamcatcher earrings on the back filling the streets again. No gay turquoise jewelry!
On the other hand that might be fun -- as long as all the bars play Pebbles and Paula Abdul and that "(Boom Boom Boom ) Let's Go Back to my Room" song. And "My Heart Goes Bang" by Dead or Alive. And everyone wears too much Joop or Bijani.
I. Am. Kidding. I'll definitely be going to this place and writing about it though. I simply must.