Food Day

I went to the Mission to see one of my very bestest friends, poet Jarrod Roland. Everyone knows "Rod" in the Mission. We went into Needles and Pens, and the dude in there knew his name. People stop him in the street and say hello. He is definitely a fixture in that part of the city. He is vegetarian and works at a butcher shop, which I give him a hard time about because I don't see how you can rationalize that. But Jarrod is very good at organizing thoughts; he helps me organize mine, anyway. He has the uncanny ability of articulating my thoughts so that I'm able to understand them.
We went to have granola, but they put yogurt in it, even though I asked for soy/vegan. Bastards. I ate it anyway and felt gross.

In Oakland, near Jack London Square, there is a new place that has had a "Coming Soon" sign for almost a year. Tonight was their soft opening. It's called "Oh My Dawg." Oh My Dawg is a sausage and frittes restaurant run by a German named Ami (sic?). Germans know a few things about kicking ass, and they definitely kick ass at sausage and pommes. They have vegan dogs and curry dogs with sauce and marinated onions they make in-house. They also have a beer license and outdoor tables. Ami lived in Montreal for a while, so he offers the kind of fries they make there; delishhh. I want to go again. He and his partner, whom I assume is his wife, are super nice, and I hope that you will go to their store. It's on Broadway and 3rd or 4th right by Jack London theaters. They don't have a Yelp or a website yet because they are really brand freakin new. Their grand opening is this Thursday. You should go to it.

Some low-life subscribed me to a low-life magazine. I don't know who it is, but they must read this blog. My new friend in Virginia guessed what the trash-a-zine is, can you? That's right, MAXIM. I dislike MAXIM very much. I would say that it's written for retards, but retards are smarter than that. It's not all bad. They say that Zachary's, right down the street, in Oakland, thought they say it's Berkeley, is declared by the crack team of experts over at MAXIM HQ, has one of the best slices of pizza in America. Some of the car stuff is OK I guess. But the girlie stuff is a bit lame and tame, supplemented by semi-offensive captions that are presumably supposed to make 14-year-olds say ooh-la-la or something equally insincere to their friends because that's what they're supposed to say when they see starlets half naked. I've read that many women read MAXIM. I hope it isn't true. I also hope that grown men don't read it, but they must. National Guard guys? Anyway, I don't know who it's most offensive to, but I know I'm offended. Crap always offends me, especially coprolite.

Somewhere in there, I wrote a lot and took a boat across the bay and thought about life and Saturn and how I want to go on one big adventure very soon.