i'm in san francisco
 

what shall i do?

wear flowers in your hair

check

wear a rubber

beat up a hippie

First, you could completely ignore all of the suggestions I made in the last thread you made.

go to outside lands and NOT see the beastie boys.

Visit me in Berkeley?

go to alcatraz. and dont leave ur heart.

Alcatraz is lame, go to Castro Street and hang out with the gays. Or smoke weed with the burn outs in Golden Gate Park. Or shop at Union Square and Market Street.

my sister and my mum are going to san francisco tomorrow, i've asked them to go to aquarius to pick me up some weirdo black metal

step inside amoeba records(!!!!)

plus - the castro, the weed, the redwood trees

Eat some Rice-A-Roni. It's the San Francisco treat, you know.

A system of letters and numbers conform the executive hierarchy, our self-possessed taxonomy, a random array of alignment ascends and declines each efforted categorization. We are all one collection of piecemeal people put platitudes pointlessly prior to bleeps and booms. We hear a tone, a pulse, a rhythm of white noise lifting our spirits as we stare down at every conceivable crevice, a mountain of media placed into proper receptacles. The label we use to describe a tuneful refrigerator is unknown for now, but one day we will describe it all.
Today we find ourselves wandering a desert of tags and categories, each piece of data representing a meaningless sliver of solid proof, evidence of existence evades our grasp as we stumble over an oversized oddball, a point tip trend tacked on for a laugh we languish in lucid heat under the soiled sun thinking the Earth used to be such a simple place. Our meanderless wandering about the utter meaning of useless descriptors and untidy restrictions leads us to every nowhere abound, unsound theory of evolution posits possible potential pulsating from order this list unordered and unknown to any eyes that set sight on sets of information. The path we all cross to finding finding findings finds us found in a massive pile of shit, swimming sweating sweet stillness, still, any other methodology is methodically insane, a massive experiment in “lettingthingsgo.” Unbeknownst and under beds, reveling in chaos of ones and zeroes, ourself undid and humanity at rest.

Nice story! ^

agreed.

yeh go to catraz. its actually kinda small there and it doesnt take long to walk around it. its woth look for sure though.

check out the mole people.

they're there; I've seen 'em.

you saw nothing. now go about your business.

darn.

I'm sorry. I'm on a mission to tell the world.

although, to be honest, it's been at least 30 years and they (the terroristic hippies of san fran) may have built a hotel on top of the poor creatures.

:(

haha. the mole people are f-ing fantastic. have u seen the film tho?





;)

^^^ it's been a loooong time, but yeah, I've seen it!

I'm more of a morlock fan, though. they're english people that have been turned into trogs.

haha!!!

if you thought they looked pasty now, just wait a few centuries.

I live in Asheville. Where's the best gas station?

ah fucking a, san francisco. let me contact my sources & i'll post you some suggestions.