Skidmarks, Bros and Corporate Sponsored Holidays

So this is my week...

On Monday I went ape shit in my apartment cleaning because my dear gal pal Estrella actually followed through with her plan and was due to arrive in SF late afternoon. My version of cleaning is pretty much picking up the many pounds of clothing throughout my little shit shack and shoving them in to less noticeable places, cleaning up surfaces (legitimate housework), throwing soap on dishes and shifting them around under the water and lighting incense. 

Just a personal theory.

On this particular day I did laundry so my house guest would have clean sheets to slumber on. I thought I had planned things out and timed it to have all 4 of the washers to myself but alas no, some other jerk had to come down and wash at the same time. I was willing to share but one of the washers was sitting open with a dry blanket inside of it, not being claimed by any other tenant. I was annoyed so I went to take it out and use the washer for myself but as soon as I grabbed an edge of the blanket a pair of SHIT STAINED briefs fell out, I mean the most extreme skid mark you've ever seen. I almost fucking puked. Instead I kept my gag reflexes in check and enlisted the help of the poor building manager (he had rubber gloves...). His solution to the problem was to remove it from the washer and set it on a nearby table where people put things they want to donate on. God bless the poor people who thought they might get a nice new throw blanket.

Eventually Estrella showed up with her cute little red suitcases in tow at my lovely Tenderloin abode. We spent the afternoon doing super San Francisco things that you can't do anywhere else in the U.S. aka went to H&M and Chipotle. We went buck wild buying cheaply made trend items and topped off our joyful gallivanting with burrito bowls. We were having a lovely time catching up, giggling like school girls until we were rudely interrupted by the angriest woman Chipotle had ever seen...this old white bitch got extremely frustrated with the poor dear putting together her burrito and pounded on the glass in fury because she didn't listen to what kind of salsa she wanted!!! Yes I said pounded on the glass and then stormed out burritoless. Now I can get serious about my Chipotle being prepared but you will never find me pounding on the partition because they didn't give me enough corn salsa. It was truly an outrageous moment. That bitch either needs to take Spanish classes or anger management or a combination of both so she can learn to order fast food in a more rational way.

The evening was topped off at home with Estrella working her magic on my dull strands, turning them into a blonde bombshell, vixen do. I really wish I could get her to wash and style my hair every day. It would definitely increase my attraciveness by at least 5% (and I'll take any increase I can get).

On Wednesday I attended a final Spanish class and with much scholarly shame decided to throw in the towel. There was no fucking way I was going to pass that crazy old coot's class....simply nada (a word I know from being a white person who picks up simple Spanish words and throws them randomly into English conversations for kicks). It really didn't feel worth my time or money for that matter to sit in a classroom for 4 hours a week and attempt to translate complex sentences written in cursive, in a foreign language off a middle school classroom board. So I said fuck it and went home to ease my troubles with two good friends: Estrella and Carlo Rossi.

On Friday Estrella's boyfriend had made it into town and it was my first time inspecting her new love interest. I have a lesbian warrior like loyalty and love of my gal pals and expect their mates to be top notch. He's a bro without knowing what a bro is...although I'm not sure how he's unfamiliar with this terminology because he lives in Denver.

 But he's the kind of bro you can laugh at for not knowing what it means and laugh with because he just has a childlike enthusiasm for life, brew, true religion jeans, kickin back and having fun. He's not a douche, he's actually a sweetheart. He ended up getting the stamp of approval. Especially because he didn't reveal any Ed Hardy or Affliction. The BFs and us gals headed up to Polk St for the night and got a little wonky at Vertigo. The after party was back at home where the BF's engaged in a spontaneous flow sesh which caused Estrella such embarrassment she took it upon herself to finish off the jug of Rossi. My boyfriend is black so I didn't have anything to blush about. I think that qualified him to win by default (and probably some skill).

Saturday: I spent the evening at work where my department's floor had been rented out to corporate sponsors of the Chinese New Year parade. The sponsors basically get to get trashed off an open bar, have asian delicacies catered to their tables and watch some little Chinese children light off fire crackers around giant McDonalds, Wells Fargo and Verizon floats that have some vague cultural decor on them. It was our job to stand around patiently and wait for the women to get trashed and want to shop. I'd say about 60% + got trashed and about 10% shopped. Of course my micro-manager had to be there, trotting around the floor making sure we weren't eating anything off the cater waiter's trays (and god forbid we drink anything), BUT they offered it and we obliged (when she wasn't hovering). We couldn't be rude! Nor could we resist steak skewers and goat cheese filled won tons.

Some of the floats are truly magical.

Happy New Year to all the rabbits!

(If you don't know where you are

go check out a Chinese restaurant

menu)

I'm a dragon FYI. Fierce.

After a ridiculously long day it was girls and gays play time in the Castro! Estrella had to see the joys of dancing your ass off amongst sweaty men who have real moves and getting drinks paid for without someone expecting you to suck their dick in gratitude. Gay bars are fantasy play lands for straight girls. We tossed back the Vodka tonics and gave it our best Lady Gaga, Beyonce moves. I am friends with some very expressive, dramatic dancers. It was a fabulous night that came to a close with me taking a pee out on the street, balancing against someones Hummer in my stripper heels. 

And so my week of re-emerging into the world with a healthy, rejuvenated spirit like Gaga from her egg has come to a close. 

Shut up Brain!!

Today was delightfully different from yesterday because I didn’t have to go into work…ahh the luxury. I took full advantage of the day by not setting an alarm, getting out of bed at a ridiculous hour, taking a bath and going to the Aveda conept salon Spa Chakra, an amazing and wonderful place. I finally got to use the gift certificate my mom got me for my Birthday for a 90 minute massage. It wasn’t a spa visit just for luxury, I had muscle knots in my neck, back and feet so intense I was turning into a hobble footed hunchback. The masseuse really had to work me out, I could hear her breathing heavily putting those elbows into my shoulder blades, she got a good tip. She was incredible! Before I went to my appointment I hit a bowl and popped a super duper extra strength Tylenol so I could be sure to fully relax. Unfortunately this did not entirely work, although my body was melting like butter to her powerful yet gentle touch I couldn’t shut my damn brain up. I was racing with the most random and ridiculous thoughts as the music played ocean sounds against gentle piano. If I could show a visual representation of my thoughts this would be it:

Gentle sunsets are usually soothing

A magical otherworld. 

Petting a unicorn in an enchanted forest is always

soothing.

A gentle waterfall is usually relaxing unless you have

a full bladder

Then I started to drift into thoughts of simple precious

things like baby bunnies and then it progressively

got weirder. 

And transitioned into this...

I hate hot dogs. Especially dancing ones.

Rude and obnoxious emoticons would just

shove their way into my thoughts.

Add caption

Spongebob is less annoying

when he's blazed but I still

can't stand the little bastard

or the people who wear him

on their clothing.

I don't know why you can't relax???!!

 Of course just as I had brought my mind to a quiet lull and was focusing all my energy into the healing process taking place my time was up, I had to get dressed and go back out into the harsh light of the everyday world.

I met up with Thinmint feeling high as a kite, with a whole new body one that could actually move and stretch with ease instead of the usual arthritic old womanly creaking and straining it usually has. We went on another lunch date over Thai food, it’s highly likely we’ll both die premature deaths due to MSG poisoning since we can’t stop eating it 3-5 times a week. After a satisfying meal and lengthy girl talk we went back to my apartment to become one with the couch. Again we repeated the scene of the previous night with the BF, hitting the vape and watching comedy. This time a Louis C.K. stand up special and a horribly disappointing SNL featuring Miley Cyrus.

My brain is finally dead and will hopefully not perk up when I hit the pillow. To be sure it doesn’t I’m going to throw on my favorite podcast Meditation Oasis with Mary Madox. I recommend it to anyone who enjoys a soothing voice that can transport them to another realm of consciousness and relaxation. If you’re not comfortable with that sort of thing it’s your own problem. But for those of you who value deep rest and spiritual enlightenment go find it on itunes. 

Extension of my Mother

Today is my beloved mother's birthday, she's as beautiful as ever and still has quite the amazing youthful glow for being the parent of a 23 year old. As I was growing up I never understood why everyone was so shocked and amazed that my parents were so young. I didn't even realize how quickly my mom must have had to get her shit together, wise up and mature in order to be such an incredibly dedicated and fantastic caretaker until I was 21(the age she birthed me at)  and realized that instead of worrying about to wear on a night out out or how to cure a hangover she was wiping my ass and nose and making sure I didn't put a fork into an electrical outlet (no easy task mind you).My mom is an amazing person in many ways, she's a creative thinker, intelligent writer and speaker, a theatrical artist, a true friend, a good daughter, a wonderful wife, an adventurer, a nature nut, a smart and savvy feminist, a fashionista, a spiritual and extremely intuitive woman, a person with a great sense of humor and love of laughter she's just a ball of super spunky fun. Along with all of these enduring qualities she is a mom through and through, if it wasn't awkward and childish I would probably still call her Mommy because she always has that warm loving energy that just makes  you want to scrunch up in her lap and have your hair played with and be read fairy tales, regardless of how old you are. It seems as though it was her destiny in life to be a mother and I feel blessed that I got the great privilege to be her one and only daughter, although I have shared her throughout my life with many other children and my own friends because as I said she has that extremely powerful Universal Mom quality. Whenever girls tell me that they're "Best Friends" with their mothers I find it really odd. I just envision Regina George's mom from Mean Girls serving cocktails and trying to get the dish to stay young and hip or a really sad girl who talks about the pro's and cons of her match.com choices over boxed wine and a batch of brownies every Saturday night and is afraid to make friends with her peers.

Can I get you guys anything? Some snacks? A condom? Let me know! Oh, God love ya. 

I mean don't get me wrong I definitely enjoy a glass of wine and a gal pal chat with my mom but I do have a social life outside of her. But my Mom is not my best friend. She is someone that I thoroughly enjoy spending my time with and I can talk to her about anything from advice on how to properly prepare chicken breast to if docuhing after sex is a good idea or not (its not in case you didn't know, the vagina is a self-cleaning organism and if yours isn't you need to make a gyno appt. stat!). I might actually be the creepier girl than those who claim to be BFF with their parent because I view myself as an extension of my mother. Her joy is my joy, her pain is my pain, I'm either following behind her on the path of life or running just a little bit ahead knowing she's right there behind me. So today I say Happy Birthday to my lovely Mom!! No matter where I am in the world she is my guiding light and I love her. And to my grammy who labored her 40 some years ago, I applaud you!! I actually applaud any woman who gave birth before 1980, shit was not all that in the pain management department prior to that I'm sure. And my Grams is of course a wonderful and amazing woman as well who I also love to bits and pieces. Now if this section didn't inspire you to hit your Mama up with a call I don't know what will! She may bug the crap out of you but she also brought you into this world and managed to put up with you for about 18 years plus, just give her a ring and say hey!

Now I'm off to snuggle in on this rainy night after having a lovely dinner over at Thinmint's prepared specially by her and hotrod. Chicken tetrazini, good conversation, R&B/ Lil Wayne pandora station and brownies does make a delightful evening. Sweeeeeeet dreams!!

I'm no Cowgirl, unless it's in reverse...

The First official day of our Mendocino Adventure-

The boyfriend can't stay in bed too much past 9-9:30 whereas I can stay in bed till about 1-1:30 without really being phased. So he took it upon himself to adventure out to Mickey D's and get the rare treat of a McBreakfast (rare because most people who truly relish McBreakfast aren't up and about before the crack of 10:30 to get it). I'm totally with the camp who wants breakfast all day...I don't think it would take away the specialness of a Mcbiscuit and hashbrown patty; I think it would actually enhance the experience to have it at any time I choose.

The only joy to waking up before 10:30.

Minus the egg.

 So he lured me out of bed with this delight, we toked up, threw our swimsuits on and took advantage of having a pool at the motel. 

It was no surprise that we were the only people using the amenities, we may have in fact been the only person to use them in the past several weeks. It looked as though there was a slight algae growing on the floor but what harm is a little algae gonna do? It wasn't black mold! Plus I was completely distracted from that issue because I was entranced with the jungle themed mural around the whirlpool which we almost fell asleep in. As you know pools of this kind do NOT have a lifeguard on duty so thank god we did not pass out and drown in the sad little motel hot tub, it would be a really worthless way to die and an awkward obituary write up. 

This fancy little whirlpool was almost my final resting place.

I really felt like I was transported to a tropical oasis.

It was very relaxing.

After our dip we layered up in warm clothes and decided to go check out some tide pools in the state park. I have a vague understanding of how the tide works and know that it changes throughout different seasons and times of day...I did not realize however that it would be extremely dangerous and we would be likely to get swept away if we went to wander around the tide pools in the middle of the afternoon on this particular day...according to the park ranger that's exactly what would happen and so we made a change of plans. We ended up taking a wandering walk down the gray beach instead. 

Here's a pictorial example of some of the exciting beach sights we saw:

The coast in all it's cloudy glory.

Some super weird sea vegetables.

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A smiling sea log.

I know it kinda looks like a turd...

Some seals sun bathing

After our beach adventure the skies started to clear up and we thought it might be a good idea to engage in a more exciting, adventurous activity. Unfortunately this activity ended up being horseback riding. Horses are not my pals and riding them does not usually bode well for me. Because of this I was very apprehensive about this endeavor. My apprehension seemed further warranted when we pulled up at the ranch which was basically a barn and a shack with a bunch of horses standing around and a bunch of trucks parked in the lot. We walked up to the shack assuming that it was the "customer service" and knocked on the door to no avail. The windows were dusted and there was not a soul in sight. Again it was reminiscent of some weird horror film, Texas chainsaw massacre maybe??  We decided to dip before a hillbilly could pop out of the barn and pull some weird Rob Zombie shit on us. 

After lunch we decided there really weren't too many other options available in Mendocino and so we called up the risky ranch to book a ride. This time when we arrived horse ridin' Hannah was ready to take us along with a mom and her two daughters out on the beach trail. While she brushed the horses and saddled them up we went into the awkward little hut to watch a rider's safety video. The video looked like someone had set a camcorder on a fence post back in '83 and gave a shitty example of how to properly mount and dismount a horse without kicking it and therefore scare the shit out of it and get thrown off. Immediately after watching the video we forgot all of the safety tips. So we headed back outside and hoped for the best. Horse ridin' Hannah was still brushing away. At the time I did not understand the importance of grooming the horses before riding them. I eventually found out why. After we geared up with our special ed. looking safety helmets  we stood around waiting to hop on our horses. We tried to guess which one would be ours. The mother and her daughters were especially excited about this guessing game. The horse that stood out the most was a giant male Budweiser horse who was chomping away and staring all of us down. He stood out even more when he popped a GIANT fucking horse boner to the shock of the little girls. There he was with his big ass horse dick staring all of us down...like "Yea bitches here's what I've got to offer". But as soon as the horse trainer came back our way he tucked it away like a super sneaky perv. So of course that was the horse the BF got. I on the other hand got a sweet innocent looking horse named Cloud. As we mounted the horses the trainer let us know that our horses would be doing what they please and would mill about eating as much grass as possible before the ride. She was not exaggerating. There was absolutely no controlling those bastards. They pulled us wherever they wanted to go. 

After everyone was saddled up we headed on our way. The beginning of the ride was fairly calm through the woods minus two Mendocino meth headed teens who popped out of the trees looking like the Columbine killers. Nevertheless we continued on our way. As we went Cloud made it clear that she was in control and would go at whatever pace she chose. I was just there as a prop. I couldn't ride next to the BF because apparently our horses were also lovers and in a tumultuous relationship. Every time we tried to get side by side they would bite at each other and rear their heads back, so we tried to stay in the single file line. 

Just as we got down to the lovely sunny beach I heard the horse trainer yell at me to pull back on the reins. I had no idea why and just as quickly as I tried to pull back I was going down...my horse was fucking laying down on the ground with me still on top of it!! I don't think I have ever acted so athletically and agilely as I did in that moment. I kicked out of the stirrups and jumped off that bitch as she began to roll around in the sand. After jumping off I ran up on top of a sandbank with my arms in the air, shouting in shock and confusion. The other riders were looking on with horror as my loving boyfriend practically fell off of his saddle laughing which I joined in on after my initial disbelief. I pretty march started to pee my riding pants laughing so hard at my misfortune and the fact that I had just narrowly escaped being crushed under a giant horse and turned into a paraplegic. 

Imagine me practically under this.

The horse trainers response to all of this was "I thought I brushed her enough!! I guess she was trying to scratch an itch...she hasn't done that to anyone in weeks!!" To which my internal response was "If a fucking horse regularly tries to throw off it's rider and roll around on the beach, why is it used at all?? Turn it into a bottle of Elmer's because that shit is not safe!!". Ultimately nothing about this scenario surprised me at all. As I said earlier horses are not my pals. I have had bad luck with them from the beginning. As a six year old I went with family friends to a stable for my first ride. I got a pony named macaroni who was apparently retarded. As we set off on the trail it took off at a full speed canter and tried to hop a fence. Luckily the guide caught up and pulled it to a halt before it could paralyze me and I got to trade horses. Basically nothing has changed between my first experience and what I have now decided is my last. 

After standing on the sandbank for a few minutes waiting for my horse to quit writhing around on the ground like a wild beast it finally stood up and I was expected to hop back on. This was probably extremely comical for all those watching. Not only was I just dismantled from this crazed animal but I was now (at 5'3) expected to hop back onto this super massively tall creature and keep on ridin'. And so I did...the rest of the ride I sat alertly as possible ready to ditch at any moment, holding the reins loosely because I decided this bitch was gonna do what it wanted. Instead of enjoying the lovely sounds of the waves against the shore all I had was the laughter of the boyfriend behind me. My horse continued to gallop up steep inclines of sand and shove her way to the front of the line budging the other horses. Eventually I got the last laugh when the BF's Budweiser horse got spooked crossing the road.  It was startled by a motorcylce in the distance and immediately turned into a bucking bronco, practically throwing him off. To see him almost shit himself atop the saddle was enough to make me feel not so bad about my own experience.

I expected a discounted if not free ride but this did not happen. I paid for my wild wild west experience in full. There is nothing romantic or fun or freeing about riding a horse. Its mostly an awkward, painful, unnatural and startling experience. I'm very relieved that these beasts are no longer a mode of transportation and I don't plan on using one as such ever again. 

This is how the ranch advertised our ride.

These are the asshole horses we actually got.

This photo is them at their happiest; eating and

not having anyone on their back,

The two on the right side were ours.

Easter- Jesus Peeps and Weird Plastic Grass

We wrapped up the Forced Family Fun weekend with an Easter Brunch. The pops, the BF, his aunt & her crazy ass Israeli significant other and my dear friend Mr. Meredith shoved an excessive amount of biscuits and other brunch delicacies in our faces. It was lovely to spend Easter with a Jew and a bunch of agnostics (or maybe they're  just too lazy to go to Church). Personally this holiday has never really been about the resurrection of Christ for me but more so about starburst jelly beans and cadbury eggs buried in that weird plastic grass. 

Getting away from family during the holidays

To teach children the true meaning of the holiday. 

Mmmm

 San Francisco is a pretty perfect place to be for the non-religious, it prides itself in being the alternative lifestyle capital of the country. In fact I would have gone to Dolores Park to watch the "Hunky Jesus" contest but felt too gluttonous to move around and be active in the world after the endless buffet we went to. I just had too many biscuits with gravy to function. That and I'm not sure how easily convinced my dad and the BF would have been to check out the scene.

I think the term "Hunky" is used loosely. Apparently I missed out
on a lot of pubes and low hanging balls. Maybe next year. 

So after a quick little weekend of Father/ Daughter bonding and fun my pops headed out. But before he left we shared a moment over a pancake breakfast. He told me he was happy for me and proud that I was on the path to success in this little city and advised me to stay put despite the challenges that may arise. As a guy from a small Midwestern town he knows the benefits to both having family and friends to root you down but also the need to take advantage of life's possibilities in the world beyond the homestead.  So despite the fact that I have battled against his fatherly ways for most of my life and found triumph in being an independent spirit, I must admit it brings a flutter of joy and a swell of pride to hear praise and gain approval from my father. 

Inappropriate Comedy Shows with Parents

Also on my dad's visit we decided to hit up a comedy show. After doing some research on different venues we ended up going to Punchline comedy club to see JB SMOOVE and lemme tell you this dude is fucking out of his mind and it is hysterical. Luckily my dad has a really out there sense of humor himself otherwise it had major potential to be extremely awkward to sit between my boyfriend and my father as JB is up on stage shouting how he is a big time CUMMA (aka he ejaculates alot) and acts out in full detail himself cumming all over a woman with the excess microphone cord as his prop. He was outrageous and inappropriate and totally off the wall. I would say its safe to bet that half of his material was prepared and the rest was him just going off on whatever the fuck he felt like saying at that moment.

Here are some examples of what I'm talking about:

I stumbled upon this one, apparently from back in the day. A young Smoove: 

You also may know him as Leon from Curb Your Enthusiasm and he was also recently in Hall Pass (which is one of the funniest movies I've seen recently):

Family Fun: by force or by choice, YOU'RE GONNA HAVE IT

So apparently this month is family fun month for Lola. Last weekend my dad came out to the bay for his first visit since I moved here (over a year ago, he really is a caring parent...I swear). This weekend is "Friends & Family" at my shitshow Dept. store job; the slogan for the event is "Friends & Family- If you're here today that's you!!" (My slogan is: "If you're here today and you're willing to spend over $500 you're a friend, if you're willing to go upwards of $1,000 we'll consider you family!! If you're just here to bullshit around then get the fuck out cuz we're not close like that). And finally this coming weekend my lovely Mama is headed out to the Bay for Mother's day weekend (she deserves more than a day). 

My good 'ol dad was excited for his solo weekend visit, it made him feel young and fun again. Typically he's a Mr. Mom constantly hanging out with my younger sibs. He's pretty good at handling them but they still give that back talk sass that only little white kids with too much verbal freedom can give. Its primarily my younger brother who does this. My little sister is pretty chill as an easy going tom boy in her puma suits. 

 So he shed the little buggers and the wife and came to hang with me and the BF.  I've always loved my dad, but I haven't always enjoyed him. There was a period between the ages of 13 and 18 that I sometimes felt like kicking him in the groin and spitting in his face. That sounds harsh but he often tells me that he wants to drop kick me in the chest (this is only humorous because we've never gone to the point of seriously inflicting bodily harm upon one another aka I was never abused as a child and I don't plan to abuse him when he's a geriatric old fart). 

So to entertain the old guy we took him to a Giant's game, Giant's as in the World Series CHAMPION Giants!! I'm still a little confused as to how they're the WORLD champions since they only competed with U.S. teams, then again I'm confused about a lot of things in baseball so I'll just add that one to the list. Unfortunately during this game they did not play like world champs and it was somewhat boring. Boring and hot. In San Fran there is almost always a breeze, especially at this particular stadium which sits right on the ocean. Because of this perpetual breeze its almost always wise to dress in layers as if you were going to be in a J. Crew ad for the fall season. A button up, a cardigan, a jacket, etc. And so we threw on some gear (I'm a fair weather fan admittedly but I still own some gear just to be fun and athletically fashionable) and added some hoodies and what not on top. Well it just so happened that we sat in the only area of the stadium that was about 25 degrees hotter than the rest, no breeze, just the hot sun beating down on us. It was so hot in fact that I stripped down to my bottom tank top layer and ended up getting sunburned. Unfortunately my epidermis is a very, very fair shade so this happens almost every time I'm exposed to direct sunlight for too long. Along with the heat came a wafting of a super sick smell that came upon us half way through the game. It smelled like somebody put a cabbage stew in a dirty sock and threw it in an oven. This resulted in us looking around trying to find where the mystery smell was coming from. Was it a fellow fan emitting bodily gas? Had someone shat their pants after eating too much sauerkraut? Did one of the annoying seagulls or pigeons that circle the stands keel over and die somewhere nearby? It was pretty horrendous but it's source was never discovered. This is probably for the best. 

My favorite part is singing "Take me out to the ball game"
the rest is kind of a guessing game as to what's going on.
Unless it's a home run. I'm not retarded.

Here's one of the more exciting characters on our team.
Brian Wilson aka "Fear the Beard". Yes he dyes it as
an intimidation tactic.

...And people get pretty excited about it.

And here's my guy TIMMY!! As you can see
we share a similar favorite recreational
activity. The difference is I get high and
sit around on my ass, he's a world class
athlete. Other than that we have a lot in
common.

Besides the fact that I got burned, they lost and we spend a large portion of the game looking for where the sock soup smell was coming from, we did enjoy our $40 worth of chicken strips and beverages (stadium prices are no joke. You could practically afford to buy a keg of beer for how much it would cost you to get a buzz going) along with some good clean American fun. Upon exiting the stadium I thought I'd throw my ice into the odd little trough in front of our seats so I could take my collector's cup home. Apparently it wasn't a trough in front of me but instead an open piece of the balcony, which I saw just in time to watch my ice chunks rain down on some poor bastard below. Oops, and I got the fuck outta there before a game day brawl could begin!

Later that night we decided to hit up a comedy show. After doing some research on different venues we ended up going to Punchline comedy club to see JB SMOOVE and lemme tell you this dude is fucking out of his mind and it is hysterical. Luckily my dad has a really out there sense of humor himself otherwise it had major potential to be extremely awkward to sit between my boyfriend and my father as JB is up on stage shouting how he is a big time CUMMA (aka he ejaculates alot) and acts out in full detail himself cumming all over a woman with the excess microphone cord as his prop. He was outrageous and inappropriate and totally off the wall. I would say its safe to bet that half of his material was prepared and the rest was him just going off on whatever the fuck he felt like talking about.

Here are some examples of what I'm talking about:

I stumbled upon this one, apparently from back in the day. A young Smoove: 

You also may know him as Leon from Curb Your Enthusiasm and he was also recently in Hall Pass (which is one of the funniest movies I've seen recently):

We wrapped up the weekend with an Easter Brunch with the pops, the BF, his aunt & her crazy ass Israeli significant other and my dear friend Mr. Meredith. It was lovely to spend Easter with a Jew and a bunch of agnostics (or maybe they're  just too lazy to go to Church). Personally this holiday has never really been about the resurrection of Christ for me but more so about starburst jelly beans and cadbury eggs buried in that weird plastic grass. 

Getting away from family during the holidays

To teach children the true meaning of the holiday.

Mmmm

 San Francisco is a pretty perfect place to be for the non-religious, it prides itself in being the alternative lifestyle capital of the country. In fact I would have gone to Dolores Park to watch the "Hunky Jesus" contest but felt too gluttonous to move around and be active in the world after the endless buffet we went to. I just had too many biscuits with gravy to function. That and I'm not sure how easily convinced my dad and the BF would have been to check out the scene.

I think the term "Hunky" is used loosely. Apparently I missed out
on a lot of pubes and low hanging balls. Maybe next year. 

So after a quick little weekend of Father/ Daughter bonding and fun my pops headed out. But before he left we shared a moment over a pancake breakfast. He told me he was happy for me and proud that I was on the path to success in this little city and advised me to stay put despite the challenges that may arise. As a guy from a small Midwestern town he knows the benefits to both having family and friends to root you down but also the need to take advantage of life's possibilities in the world beyond the homestead.  So despite the fact that I have battled against his fatherly ways for most of my life and found triumph in being an independent spirit, I must admit it brings a flutter of joy and a swell of pride to hear praise and gain approval from my father.