bg/ish: The "George Special"

I never really got into last weekend in detail. There is a reason for that, and it's called Xanax. At any rate, at one point Sunday morning, there were 7 of us sitting around the house drinking recklessly and looking to go on a bike ride. Problem was, only 6 working bikes. With about 20 minutes of teamwork, we were able to throw together a bike that had been sitting around our house for a couple months. Fitting that "The Re-Animator" was playing in the background. We brought this baby back from the dead. Since George was the only one without a bike, and this would be for him, we dubbed it, "The George Special"...

bg/ish: Joke For Friday

I saw this on BoingBoing a while back. Heard a joke yesterday that reminded me of it. Have a laugh. It's Friday.

bg/ish: Prop (H)8, Sex, and The American Way

Professor Hubert Farnsworth: You must take him to his ancient home world, which will soon erupt in an orgy of invertebrate sex.
Fry: Oh baby. I'm THERE.
Leela: Fry, do you even understand the word "invertebrate"?
Fry: Nope, but that's not the word I'm interested in.

* * * * *

After the California Supreme Court upheld a challenge this last Tuesday morning to Proposition 8, a state ballot measure that passed in November of 2008 and changed the state Constitution to add a new section (7.5) to Article I, which reads: "Only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California", the protesting and social commentary that followed was welcome, if not predictable. Although personally I was not surprised by the decision (I'd spoken to an attorney I work for last week on Friday who explained to me what the decision would be and why with startling accuracy) I found myself searching the reactions of other people for clarity as to how this thing known as Prop 8 truly reflected our society currently and how it would stand the test of time and eventually reflect us as people now in history.

Forgive me in advance, for this will be a lengthy discussion, and the lead-in quote from Futurama may be as humorous as it gets. That quote however, will not be in vain...

Also, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention my friend Steve Morozumi's eloquent and intelligent discussion of the recent Prop 8 decision. Steve, I cannot hesitate to say your post was not only an inspiration, but also a catalyst for me to finally get my thoughts out in this forum. But we'll get back to that in a moment, as this post will not rehash his many valid points, yet, will use one of them as a starting point for the purpose of this discussion.

* * * * *

In October of last year, my parents came to visit me. As has been mentioned numerous times in this blog before, your boy bg lives in San Francisco. We were spending an unusually warm afternoon in Dolores Park, sipping beers, watching the dogs play. A man approached our table holding a clipboard, and kindly enough asked our group if we "supported gay marriage". My father, without hesitation, and likely any real thought, quickly responded "No."

(A quick aside: If you ever want to find your boy bg, Dolores Park is a likely spot. That's my hood. Corner of 18th and Church. So, in addition to my minor embarassment due to my father's thoughtless answer, I certainly didn't want his views construed onto myself, especially in my backyard.)

At any rate, the situation diffused rather quickly, the guy offered up a brief question of protest, as in "why not?", but I ushered him on his way before a clash of ideals ensued. Here's the thing... I know exactly why my father answered the way he did. My parents are Christians, and they believe homosexuality is wrong, condemned by God, and in direct opposition to Biblical law. That's fine. They have every right to feel that way, and to believe what they do.

The root of the issue is, and perhaps some blame can be put on the man who approached us for asking the wrong question, fundamentally, it's not about "gay marriage" at all. He could have asked us, "Do you support gay ice cream sundae parties?", and my father would have said, "No". And we all know there is nothing wrong with ice cream sundae parties.

So, maybe what the man should have asked is, "Do you support equal rights for all men, women, and children, regardless of their race, nationality, religious beliefs, or sexual preference?" Because something tells me that then, my father being a mixed Black Irish man who has seen his extended family divided by racism and who is free to practice his own personal religious beliefs, would have said "Yes".

Sadly, Prop 8 passed with a 52% majority a couple weeks later. "Gay Marriage" was banned, and I'm sure plenty of common folks like my parents never even batted an eye.

Here in San Francisco, the night of November 4th was bittersweet. I've written briefly about this before, but I'll reiterate again, it was a stunning display of irony as people celebrated the nation's first Black President while mourning the demise of equality for all people in this state. The Advocate shortly thereafter ran the following cover:


I'm not sure if they coined that phrase, or if these guys did...


...OK, couldn't resist just a tad bit of humor there.

Initially, I wasn't sure how I felt about that phrase. But the more I thought about it, I came to understand that being part Black, I had more understanding of that struggle, and being no parts gay, I had a very limited understanding of theirs. And yet, I understood, they related on a common level. A level of equality for people, and civil rights.

* * * * *

So, in the aftermath of the recent Court decision, I think it's important to examine why Prop 8 came about in the first place, why it passed with a majority of California voters, and what principal this all conspires to violate. Let's start with a snippet from Steve's post mentioned earlier, and go from there...

"okay, so here's the opinion i hold on the 2 legal loopholes that prop 8 will have to withstand in order to not be struck down in The Supreme Court of The United States:
1. Separation of Church and State - Since marriage itself is a sacred bond between individuals, it is carried out in/under the auspices and authority of a church or similar spiritual belief system. For the state to intervene in a sacred rite such as marriage, is a violation of the separation of church and state.
2. All (people) are created equal - This legal proposition should never have arisen in this case to begin with, because separation of church and state should have been stipulated and upheld before any marriages in the United States had ever taken place (all the way back to the day the U.S. Constitution was ratified)."

The key here is the Separation of Church and State, which "in the United States is generally discussed as a political and legal principle derived from the First Amendment of the United States Constitution." So, why is that the key? Well, Prop 8 had two major supporters in the form of the Roman Catholic Church, and the The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, aka, the Mormons.

(Let me quickly say, this discussion will in no way cast judgement on the beliefs or rights of those churches or any of their members.)

Why is this important? According to wikipedia, "Civil marriage is the legal concept of marriage as a governmental institution, in accordance with marriage laws of the jurisdiction. If recognized by the state, by the religion(s) to which the parties belong or by society in general, the act of marriage changes the personal and social status of the individuals who enter into it."

The key in that definition lies in, a "legal concept" that "changes the social status of the individuals who enter into it". Individuals have a choice to enter the arrangement of marriage. Just as they have a choice as to what church they attend. However, the conflict arises when a church uses it's influence over it's members to then manipulate the law. Especially in a case where the law then restricts the rights of some to change their "personal and social status" and to obtain the benefits or detriments of that social status, based on sexual preference.

Does this logic apply to marriage? Absolutely. Married couples receive tax breaks and are afforded other legal rights that unmarried couples are not.

Listen, I don't have a problem if the Mormons believe that marriage should only be between a man and a woman. I'd encourage them to allow only those unions within their ranks. What I do have a problem with is this well documented fact:

"The First Presidency of the [The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints] announced its support for Proposition 8 in a letter intended to be read in every congregation in California. In this letter, church members were encouraged to "do all you can to support the proposed constitutional amendment by donating of your means and time." Local LDS leaders set organizational and monetary goals for their membership—sometimes quite specific—to fulfill this call. The response of the LDS membership to their leadership's appeals to donate money and volunteer time was very supportive, such that Latter-day Saints provided a significant source for financial donations in support of the proposition, both inside and outside the State of California. About 45% of out-of-state contributions to ProtectMarriage.com came from Utah, over three times more than any other state. ProtectMarriage, the official proponents of Proposition 8, estimate that about half the donations they received came from LDS sources, and that "eighty to ninety percent" of the early volunteers going door-to-door were LDS."

This is a clear cut example of a Church using it's influence over it's members to manipulate the law, manipulate democracy, manipulate the State. It's wrong. It's morally reprehensible, and it is discriminating against people, and denying them their equal rights. It confuses what are in all probability, ordinary, well meaning people. It spurs them on to actions that if they truly examined, they might very well find to be disgusting. And if you get enough people to believe the same thing, you might end up with convoluted views and misplaced passions and a sign that says something completely inane like, "Prop 8 = Religious Freedom".


So, if I'm understanding this correctly, Prop 8 seeks to maintain religious freedom while infringing on the freedoms of others. By banning gay marriage. One can only be left to wonder, why the hell are people so afraid of gay marriage?

The answer of course, is the only word that Fry was interested in. Sex.

* * * * *

"I thought this was America!?!"

So, allow me one more moment of humor, as it's a necessary audio aid...

Randy - Arrested


Now, as you read the next part of what I have to say, just keep Randy's voice in the back of your head... "I'm sorry, I thought this was America!"

This is in fact, America. A brief fact check will reveal that many of the earliest settlers in the colonies that would eventually form this country were Puritans. The Puritans were advocates "for more "purity" of worship and doctrine, as well as personal and group piety." Many were motivated to leave England to escape persecution on the grounds of their religious beliefs. The irony is a little too thick there so let's just move on.

The reality is that these Puritan ideals have been around for the duration of this nation. We could branch off into a lengthy discussion about how fearful this society remains of sex. I can't be the only one who remembers the outrage and disgust over Janet Jackson's nipple showing up during the Super Bowl Halftime Show for a split second, right? Yet, some would say it's silly to infer that this American society is one that is afraid, if not terrified of sex...

- Sexual positions other than missionary-style are illegal in Washington D.C.

- It's illegal to purchase a sex toy in the state of Alabama.

- In Romboch, Virginia, it is illegal to engage in sexual activity
with the lights on.

...OK, maybe were just a little afraid. That's called sarcasm.

On a side note, my research for this entry led me to discover that Utah, homebase of the aforementioned Latter-Day Saints, consumes more Internet porn than any other state in the country. Way to go Utes! Well, technically, they were the #1 state for "porn subscriptions", which just leads me to believe they aren't all that savy at leeching porn for free.

Moving on, before I lose my point here. This country is terrified of sex. And gay sex!?! * gasp * Well, clearly, that's the worst kind!

See, people are fooled into thinking that by condoning gay marriage, they are condoning gay sex. And they're terrified of that. Scared shitless.

(Insert any number of "no sex after marriage" jokes here.)

But anybody with half a brain will tell you that sex and marriage are not the same thing.

It's this underlying fear that causes otherwise logical, well meaning people like my father to blurt out "No" when asked if they support gay marriage. It's a byproduct of their mental conditioning. The fear causes them to be reactionary, they cower back and feel the need to "protect marriage". But what are they really aiming to protect? An ideal? An institution? A religious value?

I'm really not sure. I don't hear a lot of uproar about the divorce rates in this country. "The divorce rate in America for first marriage, vs second or third marriage: 50% percent of first marriages, 67% of second and 74% of third marriages end in divorce, according to Jennifer Baker of the Forest Institute of Professional Psychology in Springfield, Missouri.”

Guess what, the Bible also states that God "hates a divorce". Pretty clear cut if you follow the Bible as your moral compass. Homosexuality is a "sin". Divorce is a "sin".

So, that brief examination of the divorce rates in this country leads me to believe that people are in fact, not really interested in protecting marriage at all. I'm going to need a different line of reasoning here, or I'm not buying it. Ya, the "God says it's wrong" angle isn't going to work for me either.

But that's just it. There is no other logical line of reasoning. There are a lot of excuses. Lot's of "moral outrage". Lot's of loosely applied values. But in reality, it's all lots of nonsense.

Here's the good part though. Randy was right. This is America. People here have the right to fight for equality. Let's not lose sight of what is really at stake here in California, and that is equality.

Proposition 8 may claim to be many things, but in reality it's nothing more than a craftily written religious agenda funded and put into motion to deny people equal rights offered under state law. And it's based in fear. But as I said in a text message to a friend on Tuesday night, "it's the dying gasp of a conservative generation". Prop 8 too, will die.

Mark Morford of SFGate had this to say: "Gay marriage is a foregone conclusion. It's a done deal. It's just a matter of time. For the next generation in particular, equal rights for gays is not even a question or a serious issue, much less a sinful hysterical conundrum that can only be answered by terrified Mormons and confused old people and inane referendums funded by same. It's just obvious, inevitable, a given."

So the battle for equal rights here in California will continue, and in the end, likely win out. After all, "this is America", and people here have the right to believe in whatever they want, express those beliefs, and live according to them. They do not, however, have the right to impose them on others, and ultimately, that is why Prop 8 will fail.

bg/ish: distance & skream - bahl fwd

agIsh: "Don't sweat the petty stuff. Don't pet the sweaty stuff."

My brain's tired. My body's tired. And yet I remain happy.

I think if there was any good quality about me that I could say that I liked it's that I remain (mostly) positive and optimistic when logic dictates that everything's gone to shit. I guess in the deepest part of my brain - where my fail safes are located - I do have a grasp of all the good things in my life. Well, actually, it really comes down to just two good things in my life...but they essentially make or break a man. One, I have good life-long friends, a short list topped by bg and chair. Two, I have a loving and supportive family. What else can a man ask for really?

So in these relatively tough and stressful times, I'm truly happy. There's a lot I can complain about but won't. Rather, I'll just talk shit and laugh to take the edge off.

nv@ag

bg/ish: Sunday + Party = Vagina

from my AIM

dw.bg: how's ----- doing?
dw.bg: haven't talked to that fool in a while

jtf: he's doing good actually
jtf: he's coming over in a few hours
jtf: he did the funniest drunk shit on sunday
jtf: like
jtf: after everyone started leaving around 11
jtf: he started talking about "going out getting vagina"
jtf: and "there's gotta be a crazy party cause it's sunday night!"
jtf: and I was like "-----....it's sunday....NO parties...no bars! you're drunk!"
jtf: and he's like "no i'm not! I'll drive to the bar...give me your keys.." "-----..no" "yes!" "no" "yes!" NO! YOU'RE TOO DRUNK" ".............OKay....you're right"
jtf: then he keeps talking about vagina and bars while he's drifting away on the couch
jtf: then he starts snoring..and i tell everyone that i was impressed by how long ----- lasted that night...and literally 5 seconds later he wakes up runs outside and starts puking in the bushes
jtf: so funny

dw.bg: hahaha

jtf: then he comes in exhausted and sits on the couch...starts talking and he's pointing his finger with his arm straight at me and falls asleep with his arm out
jtf: and it slowly drops over a minute or two period
jtf: then 10 min later....crawling up the stairs...dry heaving

dw.bg: so rugged...
dw.bg: and so -----!

jtf: yes!
jtf: so -----
jtf: classic

bg/ish: "Suck it bitch, I'm outtie!"

I recently came across this comic over at Fart Party aptly titled "brain vacation"...

(click to enlarge)

...and that's when things started making sense.

On a side note, if you haven't read Fart Party before, you really should. A couple of other favs of mine are here, and here.

At any rate, I'd mentioned on this blog that I'd mentally checked out a couple weeks ago. In essence, my brain had told me to "suck it" and bailed. In the meantime, I've managed to muster enough reserve power to pass myself off as a functional member of society, but just barely. So when I found myself wide awake at 5 a.m. this morning, contrary to all my desires, I was left to confront the mystery...

"What the hell is wrong with me!?!"

I looked to Chewie for an answer. Only, unlike me, she had no notions of being awake at 5 a.m....


...so it was back to the drawing board, well, actually, the Internet. I searched google, to no avail. Only the logical thing was left. When wondering how one has arrived at a certain destination, it's best to retrace one's steps. Let's start with last Friday...

It started like any other Friday. Actually, it started like every other Friday. Payday. Morale +10. Level up. HP +5. Feeling good. Lunch at The Chieftan. Walking back up 5th towards Market. Saw a family. Father, Mother, Son. The son was pissing in the street. Couldn't have been more than 7 years old. Funny, these things used to surprise me.

Got back to work. Broke a sweat. Got things done. Accomplished. 5 o'clock. Time to quit. We used to play "Sweet Home Alabama" around this time everyday. That was a lifetime ago. Only I wouldn't be going home on this day. No, it was straight to Medici. With gusto!

Let's go with a beer. Racer 5. Might as well do it right. Shot of Fernet? Sure, why not. Drink. Shoot. Repeat. Out the door. The talk was of staying in. The talk was of keeping it mellow. But the talk is often just that... talk.

Ran into my buddy on the street. Or maybe I called him cuz I heard he was around the 'hood. Either way, he ended up at the house. Couple of tall cans of Mickey's in hand. Uh-oh. This is a slippery slope.

He's out. G.O. arrives. We're definitely sliding downhill now, but nowhere near the bottom. What's on tap? Dubstep. Grime City. "No cova!" 4 year anniversary. But first, back to Medici. We can walk from there...

Forgive me as things get foggy from there. More drinks. A short walk/stumble to Anu. "What is this, Bourbon?" Damn G.O. It doesn't matter. The dubstep is hittin'. MC Childs is spittin'. It's a dark, gloomy haze, and our bodies are caught up in the wobble. We dance. Or stumble. We see old friends. The dead walk amongst us. Zombies. I get bit...

Fade to black.

Saturday. Or, "How to waste a beautiful day rotting in bed and vomiting". I wake up on my couch. This makes no sense. It's two feet from my bed. Last night doesn't make any sense, until I realize, I never ate dinner. What is wrong with me. I used to make better decisions than this. Speaking of bad decisions, frozen burritos. Those last about an hour before they too seek to evacuate. More sleep. Then, a savior...

5 Hour Energy and a Jay's cheese steak. I get on the bike to push. Gotta sweat out these toxins. To the water...


Back home for more rest. After all, with Sunday would come Bay To Breakers...

Sunday morning. Mash down to 9th and Market. I stand there for 90 minutes. 90 minutes of madness. It's amazing. See photos here, and here.

This guy won the "race", but nobody but him cared. Look how lonely he is.


We ended up on a roof deck on Ashbury and Waller. Only slightly removed from the madness. The sun beats down. 90 degrees. My body roasts. I grow delirious. Sun + Beer = Reckless Mash to Dolores Park. I lay out. Sleep. Roast more. Evening brings a cool breeze. And relief.

The plan after that was for Dub Mission, but it all goes to shit. And so Monday comes, and I am no better for it.

But wait. None of this explains where my head is at. It only serves as proof. Case in point...

Last night I was the featured speaker at a meeting of the San Francisco Legal Professionals Association. Scheduled start time, 6:15 p.m. Time I started preparing my presentation? 3:00 p.m. Sure, it went over well. But could it have been better? I certainly work better under the pressure of "fucking has to be done now!", but I'm supposed to be a professional, and I'm just not pulling it off.

So what is it? Is it the comforts of Spring time? The approaching carelessness of Summer? Is it my rapidly approaching birthday? Or is it just this place, this City, San Francisco? People are known to leave their hearts here, and perhaps mine indeed abandoned me long ago. Has my brain went in search of it?

How long can I expect this to last? I can only rely on 5-Hour Energy for focus for so long. Eventually I have to get my shit together.

"Paging Dr. West. Dr. Herbert West..."

bg/ish: Chutzpah

from my AIM...

dw.bg: the fact that you suckled those stats and looked them up makes me sick...

pr21: hahahah
pr21: thats good

dw.bg: i should block you for a few days on principal!

pr21: you wouldnt do it bitch
pr21: you dont have the chutzpah!
pr21: hahaha
pr21: you yiddish suckling fool!

dw.bg: hahahaha
dw.bg: ah man...
dw.bg: fucking killing me with that chutzpah!

pr21: hahahah
pr21: thats why you wont block me!
pr21: who else will fucking come up with gold like that?

bg/ish: Friday Morning

bg/ish: "We don't want no war tonight!"

bg/ish: "I'm caught in the grip of The City... Madness"

Wednesday, 4:30 p.m. I'm heading home from work. Mashing. The Meat Grinder. Market Street. 7th & Market. Red light. Skid stop...

Dude on a BMX is mashing hard, coming in my direction. Too hard. In a blink of an eye he's in the middle of the intersection. I don't have time to even process the thought that he doesn't see the red light. Hardly a skid at all, and I mean from the Dodge Ram mobbing up 7th and into the intersection...

Impact. Dude's life hangs in the balance of a millisecond. The truck hits his rear wheel. A leg breaks. A bike tumbles, mangled. A bag flies. Glasses too. A body hits the pavement. 10 feet away. So close the sound stabs at my brain. I'm stunned. Deep breath. Drop my bike. Dude struggles to get up.

"Dude, stay down. Stay down man. Your leg is fucked."

Grab the mangled bike. Drag it to the corner.

"Has anyone called 911?!?"

"I'm on it!" I wheel around to see a guy on his phone. More people approach Dude. He's rambling something about "BMX" and being "run off the road".

"....right leg..." I'm only catching bits of the 911 call...

Strangers working as a team. Cyclist in bright yellow jacket sets up in front of the downed rider. Takes off the jacket, waves it to alert traffic.

Driver of the truck approaches. "You ran a red light." Has nothing more to say.

More rambling. "Somebody was chasing me!"

I'm not fooled. Dude is high. Dude is tweaking... Crazy. Maddened.

It makes sense. I look around. A small crowd has gathered. I might even hear sirens in the distance. But that doesn't mean anything. My adrenaline is raging. I have somewhere to be. I really do. I'm shaking. Nauseous. I look around again. Light turns green. I dip.

Exit stage right. That scene won't exist to anyone passing by in 20 minutes. There won't be a news story. No. A tweaker got hit by a car in the TL. There's no headline for that...

And if there is, I already wrote it.

bg/ish: "...a lot of strands in the ol' Duder's head."

I mentally checked out about a week and a half ago. Well, that's my best guess. Hard to say. Y'know, having been running on auto-pilot for 10 days or so....

I found myself bright eyed and cheery and shit walking Chewzilla through Dolores Park this morning. It was 7:15 a.m. This is not like me at all. I saw an SFPD officer rousing the four or five scattered homeless from their sleep. I was disgusted. If a few mostly harmless homeless folks can't get a comfortable, relatively safe nights sleep in the park, and I can't have a beer on a nice day after work, then indeed the entire world is turning upside down. But let me back up for a minute...

Friday night. Friday night was reckless. A huge steaming bowl of Pho to start off the night. Wait, technically the six pack of Red Stripe started the night. I carried one on the walk to Sunflower.

For some reason the waiter, who is accustomed to seeing me regularly, has decided that I really like Thai Iced Tea. And he's decided to start bringing me one without provocation. And with a simple wave of his hand he's indicating to me that it's on the house. Is he friendly, or just supplementing my addiction to Beef Noodle Soup? I can't call it.

One shouldn't sweat so much over a dinner with friends. I was sweating like I owed all of them money. Or had secretly slept with one of their relatives, only it wasn't a secret anymore. But with a huge steaming bowl of soup in your face, and access to unlimited "rooster sauce", how can one avoid it? Regardless, I did damage. Proper.

What happened next? I don't know. A walk. A smoke? What was clouding my mind? So many factors to consider. No time. Next thing I know, I'm walking towards Latin America. In the company of friends. In the company of strangers. 4 margaritas. We call them "blackout margaritas". There is a logical reason for that. I only drank half of mine. This too, is unusual for me.

George for the win. "Double-O-C". Out of Control. High Fives all around the bar. I'm lost. In a haze. Isn't there a party we're supposed to be going to?

Right. Find a cab. After 1 a.m. Bars are closing. Find a cab quickly. Please Sir, to Hayes Valley.

This corner is fine. We'll find it from here. All those people on the stoop. Must be the place. They look at us as if we were Spanish settlers arriving on the shores of North America. Bewildered amusement. We are nowhere close to their state of mind. Zombies. They'll be up all night. Feeding on each others flesh.

A 12 pack of Stella dissipates with a quickness. Artificial confidence permeates the air. Girls pull the skin off their faces, and it feels good. Jaws are clenched. Private conversations in bathrooms. Cigarettes. Bright lights. This will go on all night. We are not up for it.

19th and Valencia please.

Swisher. Nugs. Roll it. Wake up. 4 more blocks to walk. 3:30 a.m. Made it. The couch. "Now, tell me your problems." Or anything else. Nothing to say? Let's get lost. 5 a.m. Sleep before the sun comes up.

Saturday Morning:


Heavenly. Step outside. The 13th letter. Sun. Smoke. Polish off lunch. Shot of Fernet. Mash. Back to sleep.

Wake up to the afternoon sounds of Dolores Park. It's lovely out. Antonio arrives with a bag full of Grolsch. Morale +3. Pack a bowl. Level Up. The Zombies have braved the sun. "You gotta wash that filth off man, you just gotta." Dinner in the Mission. Enchiladas with spicy green sauce. Salsa Verde. Horchata. Slice of cake....

Sunday. Bike rides. Park naps. Burritos. Bike rides. Park naps. Deja Vu. Literally. Sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, olives. 1 slice please.

Wait. That's it. Sunday! Let me back up again. A week ago... Last Sunday.

Mashing through SOMA. Office chair on the sidewalk. For the taking. Nothing more than a slight tear in the pleather. Stash it. "Are you taking that chair?" Yes Mr. Homeless man. Your property value will not be doubling on this day.

What's on deck for tonight? Dub Mission. Elbo Room. I've got no ID. Where could it be? Turned the house inside out. Perhaps it's at my office. A ride there? Perfect. A text message: "You should pick up that chair. Show our cutty style."

ID: obtained.

Chair: obtained.

Morale +5. Level Up.

Dub Mission. Dark. Hot. Smokey. Sweaty. Wobble. Deep Grooves. Dancing. Racer 5. So good. So good!

Took me this long to wake up...

Can we go back to sleep now?

chair: Untitled

ever since dw left us, we've been having to go on alcoholic adventures without him.
this is my pathetic attempt to make him jealous hehe.

one of the first times the dwagchair crew hung out was nye 2006. a lot of alcohol was consumed, some came back up, but overall it was a blast. we went to the same place last time dw visited but it's crap now.

but i think we've found our alternative. satan beer! here's a shot of ag's bodyless head with a delicious goblet of maudite beer from quebec.


dw come back. we meeeees you.

agIsh: "Back in the day..."

Back in the day when I was a productive member of society (i.e., a contributing member of Tha Pub) it was a beautiful thing man. We had poetry, columns, interviews, and grandiose stories. Among my many jobs, I was a drawer [sic] and gave form to our life giving words. Check a page I did for "Recognition Day", in which bg prepares to throw down with a dirty asian man (no, not me)...


I'm proud to have stuff like that under my belt and hope to go back to creating more in the future. At the moment, school is my Zed. :(

Hope everyone's doing well. Remember, stay positive...cuz in the end, that's all you really have.

nv@ag

bg/ish: Um... Scraper Bikes...

From utne.com..

"Scraper bikes began as low-budget analogs to the colorful, big-rimmed cars—also called scrapers—often seen cruising around east Oakland. Tricked-out scavenged frames with foil, colored tape, and candy wrappers, the bikes are a resourceful homage. Until recently they were a purely local phenomenon. But after a cameo in a YouTube rap video, prominent placement in the first-ever solar-powered hip-hop festival, and support from Bay Area businesses and museums, the bikes are garnering worldwide attention. Many people see potential in the maturing scraper bike movement; they hope the enterprising youth behind it can be a positive force for change in Oakland."

See more photos here.