Thursday, November 16, 2006
safety requires avoiding unnecessary conversation...
If I was on that bus, which I wouldn't be because that would be ridiculous, I would've delighted in sneaking as close to you as humanely possible and perhaps even attempting a brief sexual assault, but I'd have been secretly pissed knowing that there's a car and driver sitting unused somewhere while you slum it. You're not doing anyone any favors by pretending to ride a bus. And if you're going to mingle with the L Taraval crowd, let me know because I need a ride and I don't like to carry my own shopping bags.
I've also noticed that everyone on this particular bus appears clean. Somehow, you've managed to find the one bus that doesn't smell of feces and just happens to be filled with rocket scientists, Supervisors and photographers, standing around discussing ski season and regular bathing. Where's the crazy hobo screaming at invisible people? Where are the young thugs taking up handicapped seats? Where's the pee?
I'm sure you're standing because you gave your seat to a little old lady or cripple or similar, but that's like a $1400 suit. Who're you fooling? Put it back in Jack Falstaff where it belongs. It’s really hard to get the smell of crack off Italian wool, no matter how many times you have it dry cleaned. Trust me. Some things, you learn the hard way.
So as much as I enjoyed 10 minutes of enthusiastic laughter when I saw this photo on SFist this morning, it’s time for you to find another crazy, super model, stupid person and get back to work.
And by work, I mean sitting on a Matrix barstool and looking fabulous.
at 12:35 PM