Monday, August 28, 2006

Birdie Epilogue

With a heavy heart, I scrubbed Birdie's crap off the sidewalk yesterday. I'm going to miss that little guy.

Fortunately, we'll always have something to remember Birdie by -- by "something," I mean Birdie's corpse! His flattened body is still lying in the street, and I'm not sure I have the tools to clean it up. I had to step over him several times this weekend.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Whoopee!

That last entry was my 400th post since I began this blog in May 2004. I'd like to thank my readers for their loyal support -- all three of them.

For The Birds

Speaking of birds, we went to a new bar for pub quiz last night: the Bacchus Kirk. Anyway, the guy doing the trivia was kind of a bonehead (and/or drunk). One of his questions: Which state has the mockingbird as its official state bird?

(Tangent: When I mentioned birds and pubs, you probably thought I was going talk about "birds" as in "chickadees" as in "the ladies"...I'm not, though I am doing this entire blog entry in an Alfie-style cockney accent.)

Our answer was Mississippi, but the guy said that was wrong -- the answer was Florida. Well, it turns out that five states actually have the mockingbird as their state bird (Mississippi, Florida, Arkansas, Texas and Tennessee). In other words, it was a stupid idea for a question.

But during some Internet research, I discovered something odd. The official state bird of Utah is the California Seagull. WTF?

First of all, the California seagull has *another state's name* in the title (California's state bird, by the way, is the California Valley Quail). Second, are there even seagulls in Utah??

R.I.P., Birdie

What can you say about a 25-year-old girl pigeon who died?

I came home one day a couple weeks ago and noticed a sick bird hanging out behind some pipes by our front gate. He didn't look so good (he was skinny, couldn't fly and his feathers were all mussed up).

I don't really like pigeons, so I ignored him and went into our apartment. But then later on, while I was trying to read, I heard the bird making some kind of crying sound. I went out and looked at the bird again -- he really looked sick.

Anyway, so I called animal control services and the SPCA, seeing if they could help. But it was after-hours and apparently sick pigeons don't constitute an "emergency." (I should have said it had bird flu.)

I figured the bird would probably die that night, so I thought I would try to make his last hours comfortable. I cut out the bottom of a plastic cup to make a tiny saucer and filled it with water. I pushed that in front of him. Then I kicked over some bread crumbs (that were already on the street) in his direction.

I checked on the bird a few times that night, and he was barely moving. I was sure he'd be dead by the next day. But lo, the next morning he was up and about. Not flying or anything, but walking down the street.

Within a few days, Birdie (in a stroke of originality, we'd begun to call him Birdie) was fully nursed back to health. So healthy in fact, that he was crapping prodigiously all over our front steps. This is when Kelly declared that Birdie would have to go.

"Get out of here, Birdie!" she yelled at him. But Birdie stayed put. Every day I would come home to find him lurking behind the pipes. Still reveling in Birdie's miraculous recovery, I didn't have the heart to shoo him away.

Though Birdie appeared to be better, I believe he was still flightless. And that may have proved to be his ultimate undoing. We didn't see him for a few days, and I became concerned. Then on Monday, as we were walking home from the gym, we saw Birdie -- or rather, what was left of him. He'd been turned into a pancake by some driver on Langton.

So here's to Birdie. He'll be missed. At least we still have a vast amount of excrement to remember him by.

Monday, August 21, 2006

Snakes in the Theater

I was a little surprised this morning to see that "Snakes on a Plane" failed to meet expectations.

We went to the Metreon Friday, and "Snakes" appeared to be completely sold out.

In fact, when we went to see "The Illusionist," the guy next to us had some stuffed snakes as props. I can only assume he tried to get into "Snakes on a Plane" and failed, since there were no snakes to speak of in "The Illusionist."

We did like "The Illusionist," by the way (I give it *** out of 4), though it did telegraph its twist ending — while never fully explaining most of the illusions.


Jessica Biel was surprisingly good. I hope this will spur the career of other "7th Heaven" stars — like that one Puerto Rican-looking daughter Ruthie, who clearly wasn't related to the other kids. (Did they ever have an episode dealing with that issue?)

Friday, August 18, 2006

Least intimidating name ever

Ok, so I don't keep up with professional football too well. But I got to see a bit of the New York Giants game last night at the gym.

Um, are you telling me there's a player in the NFL named Little John Flowers? What the deuce? How does someone with that name avoid getting his ass kicked? [I think being 6 feet, 215 pounds might help. -ed.]

Anyway, I've found that "Little John Flowers" works well as a substitute for swearing. Like when I stub my toe, "LITTLE JOHN FLOWERS!" Try it.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Huh?


I'm confused. Why is there a picture of Tattoo hugging a pitbull in today's Chronicle. Didn't he die 13 years ago?

Monday, August 14, 2006

Ess Eff, represent


The San Diego Union-Tribue on Friday had a little blurb about the theater festival showing my play.

The festival -- called the Fritz Blitz, since it's put on by the Fritz Theatre -- features only California playwrights. And it looks like I'm the only one who's not from Southern California. I'll try to do my region proud.

By the way, I mentioned earlier that the theater's artistic director, Duane Daniels, had a recurring role on "Veronica Mars." Well, now it looks like he has a new recurring role on some show called "Fashion House." I'm not sure when/where this show will actually air, but it does feature Bo Derek!

Vertigo (starring Kelly)


Last night we sold a bookshelf to some guy via Craigslist (by "sold," I mean he gave us some beer for it). Anyway, after we hauled the shelf out to his car and got back to our door, we realized we had locked ourselves out!

This is when it sucks to be a home owner. When you rent, you can always call the landlord or building manager or whatever, but what do you do when you lock yourself out of your (purchased) home? Call a locksmith? That sounds expensive.

Luckily, Kelly was ready for some "Mission Impossible" shiznitch. We couldn't get in through the front windows since they have bars (in fact, these bars are the kind that also keep you inside during a fire, making our home...what did the inspector call it?... a "deathtrap").

So instead, Kelly went into the neighbor's apartment and then used her cat-like reflexes to crawl across the ledge from their balcony to ours. Way to go, Kelly! Maybe in the future, we'll bury a key in the backyard or something.

J2 Update

We were walking home Friday night and noticed that the new restaurant-nightclub on our street was open (despite the fact that they never finished painting the place or replacing the sign out front -- it's still the old "Julie's Super Club" sign).

Anyway, we walked in and ordered a drink. It turned out the opening was just a "soft launch" (which means it was just the owners' friends in there, plus any random people who wandered in). The place seemed OK. Drink prices weren't outrageous, though we didn't get a sense of what the food will be like.

They did have this giant cake there that presumably was going to be cut at some point. I soon became obsessed with eating the cake, so we waited there for like an hour for them to cut it. But finally we gave up. Since we were just there on looky-loo patrol, I wasn't sure we could demand that they cut the cake. Oh well.

Oh, but the J2 drama intensified Saturday night. We were walking home around 1 or 1:30 and saw an ambulance pull up in front of the place. Some guy had apparently fallen, because some people were propping him up while an EMT looked him over. This was the part we heard:
EMT: Sir, does your neck hurt when you do that?
Guy: Uh, maybe.
EMT: Sir, you're incredibly intoxicated.

So it sounds like the J2 crowd at least knows how to party. Next time, let me eat the cake!

Look, Smart


Near Chico's Pizza on 6th Street we saw our very first Smart Car in San Francisco.

Anyone who's been to Europe in the past 10 years has seen a million of these, but it was exciting to spot one in our humble burg — and on 6th Street at that! (Was it driven by a pimp? And if so, how was there room for his hat?)

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Ewww

Check out this link (courtesy of BuboBlog correspondent Bill Stern) about the top 10 grossest candies.

Personally, I only object to candies that have gross flavors (e.g., booger-flavored jelly beans), as opposed to the ones that are just shaped like something gross (like a toilet).

The worst is when you're eating candy that turns out to not be candy at all. Like when friends recently brought me back some candies from Japan and while I was eating them, I realized they were actually magnets.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Club J2

There used to be a cool restaurant in our alleyway called Julie's Supper Club. But it closed immediately after we moved into our place (coincidence??).

Anyway, after being abandoned (and heavily graffitied) for more than a year, the place is finally reopening as Club J2 (as in Julie's Supper Club 2).

I walked by last night and noticed the front door was open. I tried to sneak a peek (looky-loo patrol!), but there were people inside so I ran away. I did notice a "now hiring" sign, so they're definitely close to opening. And this site says it will happen "within a week."

From what I can tell, the interior is a little garish (loud colors, Dr. Seuss furniture), but it will be great to have the place open again.

Crazy Time

There's this one crazy woman in our neighborhood I've encountered a few times.

Like me, she rides the No. 47 bus, and she also likes to hang out in the waiting room of our local Jiffy Lube (I'm fairly certain she doesn't own a car, but no matter).

I know she's crazy -- but only from experience. She really doesn't look crazy. And she has a soft-spoken, reassuring demeanor...until she suddenly starts running around the Jiffy Lube screaming "Oh my God, they serve ice here!!" (They do not serve ice at Jiffy Lube.)

She also has an amazing ability -- increasingly common among crazies -- to sound like she's talking on a cell phone. It's really cool, akin to mockingbirds learning to mimic ring tones. She's adapting to her environment by learning to trick people into thinking she's speaking to someone else (perhaps on an incredibly tiny cell phone), when actually she's just talking to herself.

Anyway, she was on the bus yesterday. And one of the thrills of riding Muni is seeing "that moment" -- the instant when a normal person realizes they're sitting next to someone who's batshit crazy. In this case, a young woman got on the bus and sat down near the crazy lady.

The crazy lady turned to the young woman.

Crazy lady: Wow, that's a beautiful ring.
Young woman (holding up an engagement ring): Thank you.
Crazy lady: Is that a princess cut?
Young woman: Yes it is.

At this point, I became concerned. My stop was coming up, and I was afraid I wouldn't get to see "the moment." So far, the crazy lady was acting totally normal.

Crazy lady: It's really pretty.
Young woman: Thanks.

I pulled the cord and prepared to get off the bus, still waiting for it...

Crazy lady: I used to have a ring like that.
Young woman: Oh really?
Crazy lady: Yes, until Muni stole my baby AND KILLED IT.

Yes! There it is, just in time. The bus came to my stop, and I got off.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Eeek!


I guess I haven't been down to the Embarcadero lately, because we passed by there last night and I see they've set up a TERRIFYING NEW SCULPTURE in front of Pier 14.

Apparently it's called "Passages," and it's supposed to be a mother and child. Yeah, a mother and child PREDATOR!

'Our Thirties'

A new sitcom set in San Francisco is going to debut next month on ABC. I watched the pilot episode on YouTube, and it's pretty lame. And shouldn't a show set in S.F. have at least one Asian character?

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Check It Out

Friend and BuboBlog reader Anh-Minh has a freelance story in today's Chornicle about shopping for home decor at dollar stores.

I used to go to the dollar store in the Capitola Mall (I seem to recall finding a lot of remainder copies of Paul Reiser books), but it's been years. Their selection has apparently improved.