And if it tells you anything about location of San Francisco Magazine’s readers, Zachary’s Pizza in Berkeley beat out Little Star which is weird because they’re pretty much the same except you have to go really fucking far to get to Zachary’s. I’m starting to think the only people who care about these things are sandwich shop owners who still leave up their one award from 2003.

via: EaterSF

The damning evidence was capture on YouTube along with some footage of a sweet, old Chevy Nova (the signature vehicle of someone who doesn’t give a fuck about mpg or Pelicans). Strongarm Larry is at 35 seconds in, followed by some cringe-worthy “That’s assault!” smugness:

The victim of Larry’s rage: Jym, whose only crime is spelling his name like that, has filed assault charges against Armstrong and is “awaiting medical assessment of his hand injury” according to Hart.

So with all the pedestrian violence going down at the Arco, Hart is calling for a complete shut down of the gas station and that means this week’s protest needs more people. A lot more people. Like 30 people. Because that’s apparently how many protesters you need to get on the national news. And that’s where you come in, neighborhood reader, because the two key organizers Janel Somebody and Hart live in Berkeley (obvs) and Santa Cruz (duh) respectively and can only do so much grassroots organizing before their coworkers find out how much time they’ve been spending on Facebook*.

So if you want to get involved, you should email Joshua at: joshuanoahhart [at] gmail [dot] com. And spread the word amongst your internet acquaintances if you hate BP, or violent business owners, or cars in the bike lane, or just want to get on National televison, because who even knows what we’re protesting anymore. I thought this was about turning the Arco station into a sunny place to sip iced coffees and talk to sensible people about bicycles, but now we’re chaining ourselves up in front of the metaphorical bulldozer (which is actually a Prius trying to top off the tank).

AggressivePanhandler, unfortunately won’t have anyone in attendance as Pavement is totally playing in Berkeley that night, so I’m exempt from this because I have to answer my calling as a member of Generation Whatevs and make a pilgrimage to the Greek Theater. I’ll probably take BART, if you’re wondering. Send photos if you go! (To the protest, I mean.)

*(presumably!)

Source: A Facebook message from Joshua Hart to members of ARCO/BP Shut Down Party Group

Also, they don’t even have a Beer & Wine license so I don’t see this one lasting too long.

But tomorrow, at 5:30pm, some of your neighbors from the Wigg Party who also hate BP are going to be greening up the Petrolscape by creating (another) temporary pocket park at the much-loathed-but-now-even-more-loathed Arco station. So here’s the deal:

Tomorrow, Friday, June 11th, 5:30pm at the Arco Station on Fell and Divis. You bring the park-making supplies like potted plants, benches, seating, etc, and BP will provide billions of gallons of oil (Is that how many gallons there are? I actually have no idea how many gallons there are.) It might seem like a tiny and temporary green space on Divis won’t really save the lives of any majestic Gulf Condor Pelicans or whatever, but at least you can disrupt some shit and probably piss off some drivers and generate more business for the Spirit Gas across the street. If nothing else, you’ll at least give Rob Anderson something to blog about.

Recommended Beverage: They usually stock a couple microbrews from Louisiana brewers Abita across the street at New Star Ell.

Read the whole Wigg Party Manifesto and get more details over on the Facebook event page.

Imaginary.

BREAKING – In a NOPA District coffee/art/sandwiches/earth-tones establishment, a young man finished his second beer and felt the desire for a cigarette despite having allegedly quit two months ago. No word on whether the falafel will be finished or whether he’ll stare at it for another fifteen minutes.

There is word on the wire that he’ll attempt to talk to the girl at the counter about “what she does” and “records”. More on this story as it develops.

I suppose if you’re going to kill someone, it’s best to do it with your NAMETAG CLEARLY VISIBLE and WEARING BRIGHT RED. I mean, honestly. Is he trying to stab someone in 1996? Caps and starter jackets? Really?

Also visible is the delightful ketchup squeezy bottle I used to eat with my delicious burger. That shit was legit! Nummers!

For the third and perhaps final time in 9 months I packed up everything I own into my car and left Los Angeles, swearing that I’d never return. I headed North, to the Bay Area, home of promiscuity, revelry, long haired freaky people, and good burritos. It is a city of 4 million people, and seven haircuts. Everyone has a dog or an iPhone, although sometimes –  if rarely –  you’ll see a strange hybrid of the two.

I saw a wheatpasted mural. It was “just alright”. No lifechanging. I did not see my own soul in the street art. Heck, in Los Angeles we practically piss on our Duchamps! (Note: I took Art History 101 at a Learning Annex: thus I am highly qualified to tell you, as Dave Eggers says, what is the what). But this isn’t about me. This isn’t about the fleeting memories of my abandoned hometown of Los Angeles. This is about ‘finding yourself in San Francisco’ – and not in that ‘dancing by the light of the moon with a Quebecois lumberjack in the heart of the Castro’ way. It’s about being a confused young man coming to the city by the bay for a few days and sing-yelling the half remembered Journey lyrics to the agressive panhandlers of the Lower Divisadero. It’s about abandoning pretension in a city near famous for it. It’s about $12 for a cab ride from one end of the city to the other. And for that, I am thankful.

As I sit here in the Bean Bag Cafe watching the pretty girls go by almost as fast as my beer, pause for laughter, I wonder what my trip will be like. Who will I meet? Who do I care about other than myself? The answer to that question – and others – shall be revealed at the end of this series of articles. And I bid you adieu.

Adieu.

To yeu, and yeu, and yeu.

Also, as EaterSF noted earlier this week, a new quick-service joint is finally set to occupy the space that B’s BBQ left vacant over a year ago. All we have to go on right now is the name on the awning: El Rancho Grande and a cartoon sombrero (could be a bad sign). To offer some business advice to the newcomers, if I may: You’re going to have some steep competition in the organic/fresh/local/sustainable/white people Mexican food space, so maybe you should just embrace the cheap, taco-truck style mexican and capture the Collecting Unemployment market segment. You could be our neighborhood’s El Castillo.

Somewhat related: No official name or signage yet for Panini/Mike’s Coffee Shop (prev. On the Corner). And while we’re waiting on Ragazza, that pizza place filling in the long-lost Metro Kathmandu, some potential competitors are trying to grab your business. That’s their doornob up there with the candystriped paper in the window and the pizza delivery door-hanger.

After hearing the announcement on Wednesday that ING would be dropping their Bay to Breakers sponsorship, the fine Citizens for the Preservation of Bay2Breakers (Why do we always put a 2 in there? That’s stupid.) put together this data-filled press release/blog post detailing why Bay to Breakers (Or “B2B”, barf you please) will still be around after ING and AEG. The whole thing, in it’s bulleted entirety reads like a transcribed Power Point Presentation, but somewhere among the numbers that they pull from both cited sources and “educated guesses”, there are some salient points, as they say*:

First, there’s the implication that ING was butthurt that the San Francisco Employees’ Retirement System moved its portfolio to Great West Retirement Services by in January of 2009. Which actually seems like a possible factor. Mostly because of how banker types tend to be boring enough to take someone else’s business decision personally.

Some of the hard data in the press release makes a decent case for keeping hope alive (like the fact that the City actually recoups all it’s costs in setup, cleaning, etc), but there’s also some fuzzy math like comparing the 110,000 participants in the record-setting 1986 Bay to Breakers to the number of people re-elected Gavin’s Hair in 2007 (105,596, in case you were wondering). So, we should elect Bay to Breakers for Mayor? Is that what you’re saying?

Also, there’s some fun stuff in here! Like, did you know people from 49 out of 50 states participated in Bay to Breakers in 2008? Who says they don’t like San Francisco values in the middle of the country? (Which state do we think was holding out? And can we get a local news piece on that state’s representative to the 100-year anniversary race next year?)

Most importanly though, is the C4TPOB2B’s (official abbrev) call for generally more common sense, which…uh…makes sense because, while banning booze and floats would make sense for say – a tailgate parade in Lincoln, Nebraska – it doesn’t really make sense to kinda-sorta ban booze, but then allow it if it’s in a cup or a jello-shot or the cops are thirsty or it’s actually cocaine in a portapotty. What does make sense is more (yes, even more!) porta-potties along the course, more efficient 6-man urinal things that aren’t people’s doorsteps, and some more well-place barricades (like say, at Divis and Hayes) to keep people on track and near the Sani-Cans.

Although the Author of the press release (and the group’s Co-Chair) is named Conor, which is like the #1 sign that he might just be Frat guy in disguise trying to keep his right to drag a Prop Lifegaurd tower over Alamo Square. (Just kidding, Conor!)

*Business people say that, don’t they?