Where The Wild Things Are

No need to sit through that movie of the little boy and his 10-foot hairy beast. I’ve found where the wild things are – San Francisco, of course. San Francisco houses the wildest creatures imaginable. These caffeine-infused, fast-walking, dread-wearing, hippie-looking individuals give this metropolitan area its appealing reputation. Things which might seem normal in other places should be stitched on a flag for San Francisco or made into a “Welcome to San Francisco: Home of the Nudists, High Living Expenses, and Facial Hair” sign or something..

Roommates: Rent is unnecessarily overpriced, forcing independent students and single people trying to find themselves to sublet and rent out someone named Johnny from Craig’s List’s closet and kitchen space. Only the Asians with 3 different colored convertibles and anyone who works in the business section of the Embarcadero can afford to live peacefully in seclusion. Having a roommate is a great way to make friends and expand, but it still sucks when there’s no toilet paper because your roommate wanted to mummy wrap herself for fun.

Nudity: Yes, we’ve all experienced it. In the shower, while we sleep, in a dream you’re speaking in front of an audience, but you have not seen nudity until you’ve been to two spots: Baker Beach and the Castro. When the weather is nice, the pants come off and you can catch a wrinkly man casually enjoying his meal outside accompanied by his “little” friend. You haven’t really been dubbed a San Franciscan until you’ve watched nude men playing a game of volleyball at Baker Beach. The last time I saw something that saggy was before wearing pants below the waist was banned.

Bikes: One of the things I love about San Francisco is its effort to maintain an eco-friendly environment. Taking your bike out on a warm November day is the perfect way to get around, but GOD DAMN DO YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY GO INSIDE THE CAR LANE, YOU SUICIDAL BIKERS? The Bikers know they run shit, so they take advantage of cutting off the city buses and taxis so you can be late for work, then look back at your window sneering with delight. The Bikers are evil madmen who have wonderful leg definition.

Weed: Isn’t the pot leaf the state flower of California? I really don’t need an explanation here. California weed has a reputation of its own.

Coffee: To live in a city like this, you need to either be on drugs or hyped up on so much caffeine that you can do absolutely anything. This is why there is a coffee shop on every block. Leave Starbucks in Seattle you fake coffee-swallowers. The real coffee-heads know San Francisco brews our own dark roast the best.

Mustaches: Am I hipster yet? No. You’re just hairy. Here’s a razor. Merry Christmas.

Asian Cuisine: I don’t know if it’s because California has some secret Underground Railroad type of deal going on across the Pacific Ocean, but the Asian food tastes exactly like what I’d expect it to taste like if I was in Asia. I guess this can be contemplated seeing as how my opinion is biased and I’ve never been to Asia. But seriously, the spring rolls are amazing, the Thai food is amazing and the sushi is amazing.

Art: Whether it’s the graffiti in the streets or the dicks drawn on the bathroom stalls, everything seems artfully tasteful. I guess it’s the drugs and the caffeine which cause people to go crazy and create brilliant artwork.

Music Choice: “White Winter Hymnal” by Fleet Foxes. HAPPY DECEMBER 1ST TO MY READERS. Go outside and do something with your lives. Catch a wild reindeer and tame it as your own.

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