The Three Hos

From the misspellings to the vintage sexism, this flier has it all.
Inside, on the night before Christmas Eve Eve, the 500 Club is feeling toasty and festive.

George Lucas Procrastinates, Too

I had a long-time employee of his confirm afterward that this is him, in line in front of me today at Borders at the Westfield mall. He's got some courage coming out in public right now with this thing going 'round the sphere:
If the Trailer’s a-Rocking
I don't expect much of a Monday night.
But a friend was having a get together at Gestalt before returning to do the Lord's work in Africa, so I dragged my butt out. It was a crazy night. The high point was when we followed some bumping music to the above Airstream camper parked in front of DoubleDutch.
When security from DD tried to tell the silver-trailer-dweller to turn his music down, the response was not positive. "You don't come into my house and tell me how to live!" was part of the tirade.
The bouncer backed down.
Tree Angel

Reader Anna Spektor found this by accident at a private residence at Shrader and Belgrave. She says:
the house name is "Ursa Minor Dacha", which is pretty cool in itself, but they also have this sculpture carved out of a dead tree.
Thanks, Anna!
The New Beauty Bar

Some say Beauty Bar is super-douchey and should be shunned. I live equidistant between it and Bender's, and I have to say that the nights I've chosen Beauty have never been disappointing - rowdy, cheesy, caveman fun. I look forward to seeing how the remodeling turns out.
NBC ‘Trauma’tizes Valencia Street

You wish you thought of that headline. This guy appreciated it when I dropped the pun on him:

UPDATE: It's dead, Jim. Enjoy the medical pun industry which has just been given a shot in the arm.
The Day in Clouds

I guess I spend a lot of time staring off at points in the distance. Further the better, and some days are better than others. With odd cloud formations and no rain, today was perfect.
Above, the Mission around 1pm. Another after the jump...
Weird Fog Day

It was out there this morning, just kind of sitting there, creeping slow and moppy through the Mission's alleys. Nothing left now but subtropical mugginess.













