February 14, 2012
Welcome to San Francisco
A few Direct Messages from Kelsey, who asked me to post them:
SF tweet from an old friend whose tweets are private:
“Walking along Mission, I saw a guy with a funny belt buckle. Then, I realized they were his BALLS, and he TOUCHED THEM as he passed me.”
comments


A town only a resident can love.
Thanks, Deron!
Amen, sister.
Was it just a polite tip-o-the-balls?
Is there any other kind?
Having now been to Mission, I can’t say it’d have been out of place.
Exactly.
Lung Shan was good though. Absolutely no testicles.
When David and I met up after work for the noir film festival at the Castro Theatre a couple weeks ago, there were two leathery men standing out front of the Twin Peaks taking photos with tourists and chatting up the locals. They carried walking staffs and knapsacks and wore only hiking boots. The only part of this that disturbed me was their willingness to take photos with tourists because, to me, it changed the nature of their freedom.
I was reminded of what my hairstylist once said, “I left the Castro because it became nothing more than a Gay Disneyland.”
For the record, I do not mean to compare men who surreptitiously hold their testicles while they walk down Mission Street with the culture of naked gay men in the Castro district. The only connection here is balls.
Sort of ties back to the article Michael posted last week.
Specifically the notion that tourism makes everything into Disneyland.
And now I’m going to briefly wonder every time I see some guy with an odd-looking belt buckle.
I’m going to market a new line of belt buckles called “BeltNutz”.
Genius.
I’m thinking it could be a crossover product that appeals both to cowboys who drive American made pickup trucks and San Franciscan leftists who draw the line at wearing their own balls as a belt buckle.