Sunday, May 15, 2005
7:56 PM
.... (Please scroll down a ways to read about and see photos from Iraq.) ....

San Francsico, May 2005

Coming to you from about 35,000 feet in the air. I am flying to San Francisco for my buddy Marks graduation from law school. My flight gets in at 9:30 their time. The ceremony is at 2.

Mark and I became friends through John. They went to Arizona State together while I slept on Johns futon and waited tables. John and his wife Erin were supposed to come but opted against it. Would have been a fun weekend. We all have a great time together. Last time we hung out was on Johns birthday cruise. You have seen the pictures. Marks the one lying on the beach with the coconut resting nicely on his belly, one of the funniest pictures ever.

I wondered what to get him as a gift. Initially my cheap ass felt the $250 plane ticket and my presence were the best presents. But my pockets got deeper and I sprung for some nice cigars. We smoked some on the cruise, so I hope Marks okay with the choice. Besides, he is the lawyer and I am the comedian. He makes the money and I write jokes about not having any.

I just farted on the plane. Or as George Carlin expressed I farted in the plane. Farting on the plane would be just plain silly. But I bet it would make a great vibration off the body. I may be asked to leave if I do it again. Awful. Luckily the two in front of me are sleeping. Or perhaps they are passed out from one of my previous releases. There is nobody next to me and only one guy behind me. Behind him is a gorgeous girl reading a book. I just went to pee and she was hot enough to think about in the phone booth sized lavatory. I am not a part of the mile high club with or without a partner. She gave me reason to join the flying solo mile high club but I opted against it. Now back to reality.

I am making my new place homier day by day. Yesterday I hung a mirror Cyndi found for me in her condo building. It has a white frame around it and is much nicer that the one I had hanging before. I placed a hanging thing on the back, nailing it down in two spots and then hanging it near my closet. I needed a nap after that. I am not much for thriftiness. I did the same with a picture I bought in Korea and also hung two Wrigley Field pictures off the kitchen and hung another Chicago skyline picture in the bathroom. I was truly winded after that, so I laid on the bed and gazed at all I had accomplished.

Cyndi also gave me a small entertainment center. However I have nothing to put in it. Still without a TV or DVD or VCR or even an 8 track player, the nice dark brown piece sits perfectly between my bathroom and kitchen. (Nice dark brown piece, am I talking about a log of shit?) The space was 36 inches and the piece was 33.

Just farted again. Another atrocious stench hovers around me. Not sure I look like the culprit, though. I would pin it on the guy the row over. He has a mustache, a dead giveaway of an anonymous farter. But then again I have no stache. Perhaps I will grow one just to prove my theory correct.

My next purchase will be a comforter and duvet for my bed. A relatively high thread count sheet set will accompany it as well. I had thought about getting a whole new bed being that the one I have is stained on both sides with mystery urine. My sister had the bed before me. All the while I have had it I cannot remember peeing in the bed. Sweating a lot maybe, but never an all out urinary breakdown. I will blame her for the stains or maybe whoever owned it before her. Mom claims its been passed around within the family. Great, at least I know who did it or at least know of them. For all I know it could be a third cousins doing. As long as I cover it with a nice mattress pad and some nice sheets, nobody will know. Hmmm. A new queen set is only like 3 or 400 hundred bucks though. I already have a shitty car and handmedown furniture. I think a brand new bed is not asking too much.

Eventually I hope to purchase a desk and some sort of television. While hanging pictures and also having thoughts of doing the same thing to myself when the outside honking reached ridiculous proportions, I watched the Godfather Part 1. I have never seen all three in their entireties. The DVD I watched was one I bought in Iraq for $2. It has all three Godfathers on it. I did not know what kind of quality to expect and I am glad. Although the quality was fine, the movie had no swearing in it. I asked a friend if there was a lot of cursing in it usually. What a dumbass I am, it is one of the greatest mob movies ever made, so it was a little odd not hear FUCK even once.

Wow, we are starting our decent into San Francisco International Airport. I guess I slept for a while. I am not too sure how to use awhile or a while. Please forgive me.

My flight left Chicago at 7 this morning. I took a cab to the train and then into Midway. I was not sure if cabs would be available around 4 am. I exited my apartment onto the street and looked around a little. My corner is a busy one and very well lit. It almost looks like a very poor mans version of Las Vegas with all the lights. That is where it ends, though. No hookers, pimps, poker players or even homeless people walking the streets of Andersonville at 4 in the morning.

Within a few minutes a cab came toward me. I crossed the street and hailed him down. I told him I needed to get to the nearest Brown Line train and he said nothing. I told him again and again nothing. Of course I figured he spoke no English, so I said it slower and more clearly. I NEED TO GO TO THE BROWN LINE TRAIN. Then he interrupted with ON BELMONT THE BROWN LINE, almost like Yoda. But he sounded nothing like Yoda or any other cab driver I had met. He spoke through a voice box, putting a microphone like object up to his throat to communicate with me. Nice touch to begin the day. I usually like to talk with the cabbies but thought otherwise. Not because I did not want to but I was not sure how much a struggle speaking was for him. I thought it was kind of cool. I had never had a one on one conversation with such a person before. I was really tired, though, and nodded off repeatedly en route to the Belmont stop. I tipped him a few bucks, thanked him and was on my way.

On the train platform, a shady looking fellow gestured through a window to three girls sitting inside the train. They had been out all night and were leaning on one another, occasionally opening and eye or two to see if the creepy man was still there. HEY LADIES, CAN I COME HOME WITH YOU FOR SOME COFFEE he asked. Now I was not too sure what he meant by this. Was he gonna buy they coffee if they let him come home with them OR did he want to go to their place for coffee? There was a Dunkin Donuts right outside the El stop, so I why he needed their place was beyond me. He lost interest in them and then began asking the few of us gathered around for a cigarette. I was eating a Power Bar and nodded my head that I had none.

Time to go. I have to end this per the Captains request. Good morning San Francisco.

Me, Mark and his nephew, Taylor, outside Mark's Law School, Golden Gate University in downtown San Francisco.

Just behind me are the houses shown in Full House.

A great shot of the Victorian Painted Ladies and downtown San Francisco.

Mark and Sam grew up in the Bay area and also attended Arizona State together where they studied at the Walter Kronkite School of Broadcasting and Journalism. I met Sam in '97 when we worked for and traveled with the Arizona Cardinals football team. They went 4-12 that year and 9-7 the next year. After I left.

Mark's dad, Tony, and mom, Linda, proud of their baby boy and attorney, Mark A. Pearson, esq.

Mark's Saturday party was held on a beautiful day at Huddart Park, Woodside, CA.

Ansel Adams eat your heart out.

Marks' longtime friend, Tiffany, and I walked through the park as the party wound down. How brave was she?

After enjoying some phenomenal Golden Boy pizza in San Francisco's Italian District called North Beach. A very Italian name if ever I heard one.

A great name for a great restaurant according to Mark. As I shot this photo, a girl in a passing car yelled "You wanna shot of somethin'? Shoot this!" and then flashed her boob. Of course I missed it.

We enjoy a cigar at Cigar Bar in North Beach. Another catchy name.

Tiffany looked lovely Saturday night for salsa dancing after the cigar bar.

Sunday, May 15. The Bay to Breakers

For the 94th year in a row, thousands of people - a mixture of marathon runners and party animals - raced or walked through San Francisco from the SF Bay to the Pacific Ocean. 75,000 people took part in today's festivities. Some people took it seriously - the winners today were from Kenya and finished the nearly 8 mile race in 34 minutes. Others drank alcohol and pushed kegs in shopping carts through the city. With alcohol consumption comes public nudity. Acceptable public nudity, bodies covered in paint and costumes with bystanders cheering them on. It was truly experiencing San Francisco as its meant to be. Well, sort of. Not every Frisco native has walked around with his or her genitals in full view chugging a beer with a number draped across their chest. Enjoy the pictures and beware that some nudity - hilarious at that - will be shown. I sell PROFESSIONAL douchebag shirts along with JUST SHAVE IT thongs; bare boobs and balls should be expected!

Mark lives near the infamous Haight and Ashbury, the area well known for the Summer of Love in the late 60's and birth of the hippie generation. We walked two blocks toward the parade-like race and watched in awe immediately next to the 4 mile marker.