In 1970,  Scanlans ran a the first piece of Gonzo jouralism about the Kentucky Derby titled “Decadent and Depraved” by Hunter S. Thompson.  Even when I read it a few years ago, the strange mixture of the crowd’s high society posturing and lewd, whiskey swilling conduct made a powerful impression. 

4 dumplings for $1 isn’t a miracle to anyone who spends time in Chinatown on days they aren’t catching the Fung-Wah.  Same goes for pork buns, 3 of $1; and sesame pancake, $0.75.  However, Vanessa’s warrants a special shout out for a number of reasons, the least of which is

I’ve recently moved to the Richmond, which, among many SF purists, isn’t in ‘œThe City.’  I too used to be one of these loveable douchebags that thought there was nothing worth a damn past 19th Avenue.  But I’ve gotten over it, especially considering that my cheap rent, chill neighbors, huge

I finally came across the Amuse Bouche Guy that Allan keeps talking about on Mission Mission.  Along with the Creme Brulee Guy, and the Magic Curry Kart, the Amuse Bouche Guy seems to represent that good old American spirit of making something out of nothing.  Except he’s French, not American.

  The good thing about class is that since you can’t buy it,  you can fake it.  It’s not like an apartment.  No un-roofied date will believe you when you say the junkie passed out on the stoop is the doorman and, ahem, his uniform is in the wash.  Or

  A cookie is a little morsel of happiness.  Nobody eats a cookie and then goes out and commits  a heinous act of violence; twinkies maybe, but not cookies.  There are few things in life that can brighten your day like a good one (unless you’re diabetic of course, in which case it absolutely ruins

Good god!  Two of the best things this country has ever created, soul music and soul food, are being doled out for FREE tonight at 330 Ritch.  While the party is technically called Pacific Standard Time (PST), I’m calling it Awesome! Farmer Brown will be there with FREE soul food

It was very wet last night.  Dark, wet, and like a movie in Times Square with happy families huddled under their umbrellas  in the fuzzy neon light,  taxis splashing puddles.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a white family on a weeknigth in New York, but shit, when am I