So I gave up on waiting for a convienent time to post pictures and am instead updating sans shots of 6' 5" Texas drag queens. The Wives will be up shortly.

San Francisco is wild. What probably makes it stranger is the amount of public transportation I ride on a daily basis, commuting on CalTrain and riding the Muni Buses and BART whenever necessary. In the process, I've met what is likely most of San Francisco's homeless population, but here even the homeless people make great conversationalists. Take that Wolf Man!

I work out in a city called Menlo Park. This place is a lot like Evanston gone California resort, lots of old people mingled with southwestern decor and redwood trees. With Stanford a few miles down the road, it's very easy to understand why so many of my friends migrated here for school. Imagine being able to walk OUTSIDE to class without parka and accompanying sherpa hat. Pansies.

For all of the hype, SF really does live up to its reputation. I was walking home from the train a few days ago, straight uphill of course, the sun crested over Twin Peaks and hit the city skyline. I was speechless. More on this when my boss isn't handing me stacks of music to photocopy.