The Outer Sunset

I checked out The First Church of the Last Laugh’s 31st (!) annual Saint Stupid’s Day Parade last week. Wow, they’ve been doing this for a while now. Every April Fools Day they do a march downtown. On weekends they march through North Beach and on weekdays they march through the Finical District. Since I don’t have a job I spent my Wednesday afternoon marching with my people through the Finical District

John Law bought out his Doggie Dinner heads.

This was the second stop at The Tomb of Saint Stupid. Perfect spot to rock out.

The Doggie Diner heads followed us to Battery Street.

Wavy Gravy gonna go get mellow y’all.

This was the third stop at the statue of the bare butt mechanics.
I loved the guy getting all Braveheart at the top of the statue.

LOTS of photographers with their power lenses.

That’s very much a Burning Man thing that I had forgotten about. I would be standing around and people would get naked next to me and then instantly there’s a swarm of paparazzi type activity that makes me not want to be a photographer anymore.

I love this montage. Say hello to contestant #1. Let’s hope he has a sense of humor.

Say hello to contestant #2. Looking sharp and looking for love.

And here’s contestant # 3.
That looks like a yummy salad there, buddy. Smile for the Internet.

What’s funny is that even though the couple at the end got it, contestant # 1 still looks oblivious. Let’s hope he has a sense of humor.

And this was a scene straight out of Animal House. The parade is led down this dead end. Notice the mini-van that is trying to back out.

Yep. This looks like a perfect place to jam. Let’s rock out!

Waive goodbye to the mini-van as it backs up through the parade.

Love the Free Bernie Madoff sign.

I worked in the Finical District about 10 years ago. Amazing how timeless this area is. During the weekday it’s packed with stressed out people and all that collective road rage energy. Then on the weekends it’s a ghost town. The Finical District is like San Francisco’s Bermuda Triangle, or at least it has the same weird and haunted energy to it.

This is stop # 7 at the Banker’s Heart.

I just now noticed that the guy in the white with the flagpole is not only wearing the exact same tennis shoes as I am, but he built his entire look around those shoes. Nice one, brother.

Bringing it back home to Embarcadero Plaza.

It was kind of a goofy, fun, stupid parade in the great tradition of most eccentric San Francisco fringe type gatherings, but really it’s no more absurd than what goes on every single weekday in the Finical District with people dressing up in their suits and ties and wasting their lives away in cubicles while out economy has been run into the ground by organized crime derivatives bandits.

Go put that run-on sentence in your pipe and smoke it.