Welcome to our special holiday edition of the Street Society Newsletter! Here we are hurtling towards the end of the year, full of spirits, shivering to death in our cold cold workspaces/homes/doorways...
Congratulations to Berkeley for passing the Public Commons for Everyone Iniative. This steps up arrests of our friendly street sleepers in time for winter! Yay full prisons! Yay tickets for people with no money! Yay $350 a month for businesses downtown willing to allow the public into their bathrooms! Does the corner of our storefront count?
Also, we would like applaud former mayoral candidate and resident tree-sitter Zachary Running-Wolf for his well thought out campaign to recall Mayor Tom Bates. After making the round of the local morning tv shows espousing his position he has embarked on a brilliant guerilla movement in Berkeley: the chalking of Recall Bates on every corner of Telegraph and some important intersections in other parks of Berkeley. We're sure that this and constant reapplication after rainstorms will help win the hearts and minds of the Berkeley citizens for his cause.
From People's Park we bring you BREAKING NEWS:
"Your knees will hit the pavement when I tell you to fuck me!"
We regret to inform the members of Berkeley Street Society that one of our society has passed on to the saintly sidewalks in the sky (for do not pennies fall from heaven? It can be reasoned that the larger change awaits above.)The gentleman known as Keep On Smiling (often sighted outside the local dollar establishment selling the esteemed publication Street Spirit) has left us. In his memory we say to all our readers Keep On Smiling
Rest in Peace.
And now, a little tale of Christmas whimsy, we would like to call:
MS PRUNE THINKS SHE'S GONNA BUY A PURSE
Out on the street one December day, when sitting and having her morning grumble and fifteenth virgina slim in front of the local coffee establishment, it occurred to Ms Prune that she was of a mind to look for a new bag. A bag, she thought, must be colorful, for to catch the eye when she grimaces up to someone to ask for change. So she set out on a quest for a bright bag. She came to a store with many bags in the window that she was familiar with having gone in and browsed the bag selection before. But she considered that perhaps today was the day that she would bring one special bag out with her. So she walked in and breathed her "henh, henh" heavily whilst perusing the bags, lifting them and stroking them and considering which one was the best for her while the sales clerk looked at her dubiously. Many times she asked how much a specific bag was, until finally, she decided... today was not her day. And she tottered off to her corner to beg more change from people in the holiday spirit. God Bless Us everyone!
In the spirit of the holidays, let's get to closer to our fellow man - It's:
UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL WITH SCAB McMUFFIN
The other day while watching Scab or Scabbie darling as we call him endearingly meander by in the middle of the traffic whizzing by, egg mcmuffin in hand, I had a breakthrough. Well, actually, I noticed Scabbie had a breakthrough. I think his brain was showing. For, unless we forget, Scab is named for the massive crusty crater visible from a distance of 200 feet. And that day on the street there was no exception, Scab was there, his scab was prominent, glistening and grisly, oozing amounts of grostesque bodily fluid, pulsating with a nervous energy as Scab stepped to the curb to quickly shove the rest of his Mcmuffin in his mouth before his daily dig through the trash can. The side of face was freshly ripped open exposing something pink and wrinkly, suggestive of brain matter. Up close, one notices that Scab is covered with little pustules and flakes of dead skin, and, of course, one can never stop wondering, just what the hell is wrong with him, that he rips his healing face open on a weekly basis?!
After winning the staff holiday pool we present a jolly editorial from one our bs correspondents:
WHY DO ALL OUR CUSTOMERS REEK OF BOOZE AND CIGARETTES?!
Hi, I work in downtown Berkeley on Shattuck and I have to ask, does most of the population that live downtown live above bars or in bars!? If I have to help one more scuzzy guy in a crappy leather jacket that stinks of a billion cigarettes without filters smoked to the ends, with the breath of five King Cobras, I will start working in a gas mask. Or put up a sign "Attention booze hounds, BATHE!" You know, those women who smell of a thousand types of exotic fruits so strongly you think you're going to choke on guava/citrus/passionfruit...well meet their opposite the men who walk around like pigpen from peanuts surrounded by a cloud of toxic cancer mist and the stench of cheap liquor oozing from their pores. Just stop it people! Stop polluting the public air with your vices, be it poison or perfume! Save us from strong scents this Christmas, please!
For Christmas we like to enjoy a feeling of family and community. It's time to look around and get to know the people in your neighborhood and so we introduce:
PORTRAITS OF PANHANDLERS
- When you turn the corner of University onto Shattuck in the evening when night has fallen, in the shadows lurks a skinny white man with a cap in a windbreaker who will accost you in a rapid monotone: "spare a quarter for the BART?" After research we have found that he never varies his spiel and is a jerk that has never been seen in the BART station.
- On Shattuck between Center and Addison you will run into a man with a baseball cap sitting cross-legged on the ground. He is well-known to us, bumming cigarettes off of people when he can't get change. Seeing you in the distance he will make eye contact and smile cheerfully, eternally hopeful, and say "Spare any change?" Despite the number of times you have walked past and never given him change he remains eternally hopeful, always there with a smile, ready to ask you again, rocking on his butt. But you know, YOU KNOW NOW, he lives in a residence hotel the next block.
-If you have the misfortune to be on the block of Shattuck between Center and Allston you will run into a tall, uncomfortably over-polite black man standing exactly between Jupiter and Walgreens who will smile gently and say, "Excuse me, can you possibly spare any change today?" You will smile back or ignore him and he will say after you "God bless you and have a nice day now." After seeing you repeatedly he will banter with you (despite, again, the fact you have never given him change) "How are you doing today? My day got better now that I've seen you! God bless you and have a nice day now." SOOOO creepy!
- Drinky Bill, he of the bulbous nose and lack of brain, stands on the block of Shattuck between Allston and Kittridge in the shadow of an abandoned storefront between the luggage store and the E.Z. Stop. Muttering indistinctly "spare a few pennies?" he hides his bottle in the paper bag in the corner behind him.
That's four blocks in a row of running the change gauntlet on Shattuck and that's not including others who will grace these very pages in a future issue.
Have you missed Manimal? Well, you've been good this year so we bring you:
EYE-WITNESS!
Our correspondent on the scene was enjoying a quiet stroll back from her local coffee establishment when she noticed the Queen of Cal accosting someone for one of her chats. Suddenly a passer-by shouldered her from behind, Queenie's braids notably flying asquew from the impact, as he walked past. But he continued onward, making no sign of recognization or apology. Queen of Cal, never one to let a slight pass, whipped around and yelled, "Hey, you don't do that! You need to apologize!" To which, the passer-by stopped, turned around, spread his arms defiantly and said quite loudly, "There's no loitering, BITCH!!" Which this correspondent thought was hilarious because that is how Manimal and Queen of Cal frequently roust people on that block, by accusing them of loitering. At that remark, Queen of Cal's lips pursed in fury, and while making sounds of extreme anger she pulled out her cell, presumably having the police on speed dial. Yelling loudly for Manimal over her shoulder she pointed at the passer-by saying, "you just wait! I'm calling the police! You ain't going nowhere!" A loud snorting sound signified that indeed Manimal was arriving and the passer-by, knowing he was in trouble, ducked into one of many poison $1 chinese food places littering Shattuck. Next the correspondent knew the two women(?) had run into the Chinese place to attempt to extricate the passer-by and a whole lot of screaming and yelling was going on. By the time the correspondent was able to return to the scene she found that the local constabulary was hosting one of their informal tea party socials on the block with no less that a police captain to be the host. A great deal of witness testimony of needed, the passer-by, still convinced of his innocence, was extracted from the Chinese place and the Queen of Cal and Manimal looked most gratified to be shamefully the center of attention again.
Based on real life events this December we have composed:
HOLIDAY POETRY CORNER
Twas the fight before Christmas...
And through the place
Some chicas were yelling
Get out of my face
It began quite simply
In the round table that day
The students crowded in for lunch
No suggestion of a fray
Voices were raised
And this was not new
Often they hazed
Each other in queue
Yet louder the screams
Female in sound
A space had cleared
Two girls went round
Before you knew it
Knifes came out
Two girls slashed
In fierce bout
Grabbing each
The hair of the other
With one hand stabbed
Whilst yelling fucker
The fuzz were called
But was too late
Blood was running
Off pizza plates.
A word to the public:
JOY TO THE WORLD OR JEALOUS ARE THE PARKERS
Can't we all just get along?
A lot of people seem to be having trouble getting into the holiday spirit. A parking space should not become a life or death experience! Ladies and gentlemen should not engage in verbal battle until blood is spilled. But we have seen this month a number of parking rage incidents this month. C'mon on people, all of Shattuck is metered anyway!
Witnessed by two of correspondents was an incidents regarding two women. It all began when a large entitled lady stole a space from a little troll woman with full beard and moustache. The troll in her broken down jalopy was attempting, crudely, to parallel park when a posh SUV swooped down and gracefully stole the space, forcing the jalopy to rethink its plan and park further down the street. When both vehicles had disgorged their drivers, the troll screamed down the street that the lady was "a bitch" for stealing her parking spot. To which the lady, ready to battle, yelled back,"You call me a bitch? You're lucky I don't kick your fat white ass you ugly bitch! I saw your registration's expired, you're lucky if I don't call the police!"
To which the troll rejoindered "Go ahead and call the police!" even while she scuttled away, immediately beginning a defensive retreat backwards into her vehicle. As the entitled lady whipped out her very new cell phone the troll quickly drove away.
Another parking fracas involved a large pickup truck and a lady in a sedan. The pickup was waiting for another car to leave, but as soon as the space opened up, a sedan quickly stopped and backed into the space before the truck had a chance. The gentleman jumped from his cab screaming in a high effeminent squeaky voice, "You bitch! You fuckin asshole! You don't do that! You don't steal a space someone's waiting for!" To which the woman getting out of her sedan looked at him blankly. Continuing to scream high-pitched epithets at her as walked away on her executrix pumps two men passing by told him to shut up and be a man and deal with it. Insult to injury there.
Yo yo my street peeps we got the dish on the latest fashion trends! You want the tightest gear, we got:
STYLE
Dr Bombay sports a new trendy turquoise trenchcoat with pimplicious brown fur trim. He accents his macho posturing with a purple scarf and his familiar putrid stench of dirty catbox. Jiving to the latest beats on his boom box, he wheels his cart with the polished rims.
Dreadful, currently staggering about in a demure houndtooth men's jacket with leather patches on the elbows has made a daring statement by wearing only one shoe.
We also must salute nipples, the greatest accent to the winter season, seen on any young lady or gentleman shuffling down the sidewalk in their too thin tunic tee, followed by shivering, the greatest accent of the season, for how else would the plebian public know you were stylishly underdressed for the weather if you weren't obviously dying of hypothermia because of it?!
SIGHTINGS
Pumpkin Lady, long thought to have disappeared, was sighted passed out in San Francisco on some grass near the Ferry Building.
Eat My Pussy lady has been sighted many times downtown, panhandling from a milk crate that she carries around with her, grumbling and swearing, until, finished for the evening she releases a full barrage of profanity screaming to high heaven, clearing the streets before her.
A Street Society member unknown to this correspondent stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk on a busy Saturday night. At least he appeared frozen but actually he was moving in slow motion until he suddenly would yell "Fuck" in a sudden flurry of motion before freezing again.
A can collector who works with her husband and is often sighted downtown with her dog stood outside a known cha-bra establishment of billiards and screamed at a pack of man-hos that they had kicked her beloved dog Ebony, despite all their fascious replies to the contrary. Yelling that they were wrong, they had done wrong and they just wait until her husband came back she followed them down the street.
Smile Guy, beamish ball of joy, denizen of bouncy ball warehouses of dream, had his heart crushed by the callous words of a retail employee he was hounding. After offering blurry pictures of streetside flowers to her he insisted he was not leaving until he made her happy. The employee asserted that she had the power to create her own happiness, in fact that happiness comes from within and that she found him really irritating. Deflating, Smile Guy attempted to bring up bouncy balls, his passion, but his hopes were dismissed mercilessly.
Omar Perro dropped by downtown Berkeley to share his gracious presence. About to advance into a business where he was unwelcome the cashier reminded him that by entering the business he was infringing on the "agreement". Strangely, this took Omar Perro aback, "You're right," he said. "I have violated the terms of the agreement!" Profusely apologizing (I'M sorry, I'M so sorry) he backed away and left without further comment. The cashier was widely applauded as a genius.
We are informed by one of our many bs correspondents that Ms Prune asked at the Halloween Store, during Halloween, for a job. It was suggested that perhaps she would be great atmosphere for a place specializing in scary props. Imagine finding her a corner wrapped in her orange apron snarling and hissing at you "Get away from me!" shaking her little fists defiantly before her.
Ring Man needs rings! With fists full of wadded ones he enters downtown businesses begging to buy a gaudy jeweled ring, however he has become unwelcome because of past encounters with his craziness and is not allowed.
A Street Society member known to us for his love of shamrock stickers, henceforth known as "Shamrock Guy," walked into a local retail shop for his stickers and deposited a gallon of melted mocha fudge ice cream on the counter. They were not amused.
Happy New Year beloved subscribers! Here's to the hope that one day the events in these pages will seem like a very bad dream. Peace.
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
The seasons' they're a-changin'
Have you missed us? We've missed you! But here we are, subscribers, back again with more juicy tales of the sordid streets of the town we call home. As summer drops into fall with no noticable change in weather we've been spending our time checking out Halloween stores (we love Halloween). This month we have for you a lovely Fashion supplement and our brand-spanking new Incidents section for those Happenings downtown that happen to involve our favorite things, Berkeley Street Society members versus Berkeley citizens. We leave you to your repast.
Breaking news!
"You know, there are a lot of smug-ass hippies in this town."
Sightings!
Omar Perro was on hand to welcome some tourists to our fair city. Greeting them in his generous manner by striding toward them with his arms wide open, his pungent aroma wafting free, 40oz in hand, he proclaimed loudly "Ladies! Ladies!" The ladies, understandably, tried to avoid him and when it was discovered that he would not be shook they began to remonstrate with him, waving their cellphones at him like holy crosses, insisting they would call the police. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" yelled Omar Perro drunkenly stumbling towards them as the ladies screamed,"Get away! You're scaring me! I'm gonna call the police!"
To lessen his overwhelming impact on downtown Berkeley Omar Perro has also taken to visiting the Tenderloin in San Francisco where he was sighted wandering down Market Street yelling "Hello there!" to passer-by.
Ring Man attempted entry of a downtown business insisting he needed a ring. When refused, he became obnoxious, accusing the proprietors of being "fuckin' bitches" and "Germans."
Dreadful apparently felt an urgent need upon him and went to visit one of his various spots. With the trash can on the corner in sight, he began to unzip his pants while still crossing the street. A woman in a glittering BMW spotted the action and assumed some nastiness to her car or person was about to occur and began yelling from the car window, "uh uhh motherfucker! Oh helllll no!" As Dreadful stumbled past her to urinate on the sidewalk she drove away in relief.
Eat My Pussy lady was spotted in the subway in Oakland but came to our attention when she decided to stroll in the Square and sit herself down next to a gentleman of obvious wealth. Oblivious to his Gucci loafers or his absorbed gaze at his Blackberry she began to speak of her favorite subject: pussies. "Bitch you don't wash your pussy! You don't clean your pussy right! Bitch I can smell it! Wash your pussy!" It was unclear if she was speaking to anyone directly but the gentleman's reaction was to freeze (as though this would spare him hearing the verbal onslaught). While he did not move to leave he did sport a look of absolute terror.
The Schizo has taken to believing she is invisible. This means she stands in the shadows of objects, some of them smaller than her. Next to postcard racks, recycling bins, or trash cans, the Schizo slides from shadow to shadow, sure she is the stealthiest of ninja.
Incidents
Witnessed by our beloved bs correspondents, a Berkeley Street Society member was loitering in a java dispensing establishment downtown. When asked if she wanted to order she knocked over the barista's stack of cups and screamed, "I'm not a customer you fuckin' faggot!"
A gentleman of BSS sat in his wheelchair in front of a downtown bookstore. Sighting a bookstore patron he attempted to pop a wheelie, nearly running over the patron's foot. Unimpressed, the patron saved their appendage and began to walk away, shooting a look at the wheelchair bum who sneered at her.
A woman unknown to our correspondents appeared on a downtown street and began screaming racial profanities targeted at people walking past. A group of twenty-somethings, being informed by the woman that they were "niggers", stopped and began to take issue with her. By the time a large crowd formed to watch the entertainment Manimal had appeared to witness and add her faux British uninformed opinions. Words were exchanged at length with no obvious effect on either side and finally losing patience the swain of one of the accosted ladies used his skateboard to end the argument. A scream like no other ever heard before downtown undulated at length with great depth and variations of pitch. By the time the lady had settled down to yelling profanity at store windows again the constables had arrived, accompanied by members of the local Bug-Fuck Crazy Aid Society/ Voluntary Vagrant Charm school wielding their clipboards and walkie-talkies to no effect whatsoever. The correspondent noted that she resembled the "Eat my Twat" lady closely but was not the same person.
Spotted in a planter downtown, a young gentleman with a pit bull mix was hiding in the foilage, rapidly scuttling about on his knees, insisting to the dog that they "had to stay quiet otherwise they were going to get them." It was assumed that the gentleman was under the influence of psychotropic drugs at the time.
A Berkeley Street Society member was found passed out in the doorway of a downtown business in his own river of pee. When informed he would have to move, the gentleman declined. When verbally attacked again with reinforcements the newly-dubbed Pee River Bum staggered into the next doorway down, only to pass out again. A member of the constabulary showed up to look at the copious amount of urine and the bum, only to return to their car and drive away. We applaud their efforts.
A young gentleman stood on a downtown street while in the throws of an epic battle raging within his mind that he felt the need to verbally narrate for the general public. The "Dragon Boy," as dubbed by our correspondent on the scene, proceeded to salivate foam and spit as he warned passer-by about the dragons coming from other dimensions. Passionately serious about his subject, he walked back and forth for a great deal of time in his zeal to warn as many people as possible.
Strange spirits erupted from ketchup bottles in a downtown restaurant. Unexplicably three ketchup bottles exploded over patrons seeking a bit of tomato goodness on their fries. When answers were sought none could be offered, leading people to blame the supernatural again.
While visiting a fellow retail lackey, a bs corrspondent witnessed a man in a wheelchair come in and ask the counter person for nipple pasties. Frustrated by his lack of boob and inability to twirl them like Elvira, he left without purchasing a pair.
Fashion!
IT's that time again! The seasons are changing and bums need to change their wardrobe to keep up with fashion. Don't be caught wearing only last year's jeans found on the street. Vintage is in and you'll be shamed in you're seen in nothing more than jeans twenty years old, artfully torn in the butt and covered in filth in the no-no places. No bum should be without the two neccessary items, the Superman t-shirt, especially beloved of can-collectors everywhere and the glamourous dyed glass ring, worn and recommended by Ring Man and others. Why only yesterday an odiferous example of BSS manhood stopped by to show us his stylin' Care Bear sleeping bag and to reesstablish his supply of bum rings by buying a couple.
Ms. Poopie Pants is our featured fashionista of the BSS set. We've seen her sporting a number of snappy outfits but two stand out. In Oakland by Lake Merritt she featured a stunning pair of dirty sweatpants artfully wetted in the most suggestive spots. And while crossing the street in Berkeley she wore a bedraggled blue skirt with a feminine hint of lace at the edge, probably on a date with a good poop in a corner.
Observed:
A member of the Bug-Fuck Crazy Aid Society/Voluntary Vagrant Charm School was observed acting in a strange manner alike the people she was ostesibly supposed to assist. It was suggested that perhaps she was taking an aid to stay alert as her pupils were considerably diliated and there was noticible jaw-griding going on.
Overheard exchange:
"Goddamn, you KNOW me by now!"
"Ya meanie! Ya meanie!"
We have no idea what that exchange meant either but it was hilarious at the time and we had to share it with you. To you our beloved courageous subscribers we wish you good luck. Thank you and good night.
Breaking news!
"You know, there are a lot of smug-ass hippies in this town."
Sightings!
Omar Perro was on hand to welcome some tourists to our fair city. Greeting them in his generous manner by striding toward them with his arms wide open, his pungent aroma wafting free, 40oz in hand, he proclaimed loudly "Ladies! Ladies!" The ladies, understandably, tried to avoid him and when it was discovered that he would not be shook they began to remonstrate with him, waving their cellphones at him like holy crosses, insisting they would call the police. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" yelled Omar Perro drunkenly stumbling towards them as the ladies screamed,"Get away! You're scaring me! I'm gonna call the police!"
To lessen his overwhelming impact on downtown Berkeley Omar Perro has also taken to visiting the Tenderloin in San Francisco where he was sighted wandering down Market Street yelling "Hello there!" to passer-by.
Ring Man attempted entry of a downtown business insisting he needed a ring. When refused, he became obnoxious, accusing the proprietors of being "fuckin' bitches" and "Germans."
Dreadful apparently felt an urgent need upon him and went to visit one of his various spots. With the trash can on the corner in sight, he began to unzip his pants while still crossing the street. A woman in a glittering BMW spotted the action and assumed some nastiness to her car or person was about to occur and began yelling from the car window, "uh uhh motherfucker! Oh helllll no!" As Dreadful stumbled past her to urinate on the sidewalk she drove away in relief.
Eat My Pussy lady was spotted in the subway in Oakland but came to our attention when she decided to stroll in the Square and sit herself down next to a gentleman of obvious wealth. Oblivious to his Gucci loafers or his absorbed gaze at his Blackberry she began to speak of her favorite subject: pussies. "Bitch you don't wash your pussy! You don't clean your pussy right! Bitch I can smell it! Wash your pussy!" It was unclear if she was speaking to anyone directly but the gentleman's reaction was to freeze (as though this would spare him hearing the verbal onslaught). While he did not move to leave he did sport a look of absolute terror.
The Schizo has taken to believing she is invisible. This means she stands in the shadows of objects, some of them smaller than her. Next to postcard racks, recycling bins, or trash cans, the Schizo slides from shadow to shadow, sure she is the stealthiest of ninja.
Incidents
Witnessed by our beloved bs correspondents, a Berkeley Street Society member was loitering in a java dispensing establishment downtown. When asked if she wanted to order she knocked over the barista's stack of cups and screamed, "I'm not a customer you fuckin' faggot!"
A gentleman of BSS sat in his wheelchair in front of a downtown bookstore. Sighting a bookstore patron he attempted to pop a wheelie, nearly running over the patron's foot. Unimpressed, the patron saved their appendage and began to walk away, shooting a look at the wheelchair bum who sneered at her.
A woman unknown to our correspondents appeared on a downtown street and began screaming racial profanities targeted at people walking past. A group of twenty-somethings, being informed by the woman that they were "niggers", stopped and began to take issue with her. By the time a large crowd formed to watch the entertainment Manimal had appeared to witness and add her faux British uninformed opinions. Words were exchanged at length with no obvious effect on either side and finally losing patience the swain of one of the accosted ladies used his skateboard to end the argument. A scream like no other ever heard before downtown undulated at length with great depth and variations of pitch. By the time the lady had settled down to yelling profanity at store windows again the constables had arrived, accompanied by members of the local Bug-Fuck Crazy Aid Society/ Voluntary Vagrant Charm school wielding their clipboards and walkie-talkies to no effect whatsoever. The correspondent noted that she resembled the "Eat my Twat" lady closely but was not the same person.
Spotted in a planter downtown, a young gentleman with a pit bull mix was hiding in the foilage, rapidly scuttling about on his knees, insisting to the dog that they "had to stay quiet otherwise they were going to get them." It was assumed that the gentleman was under the influence of psychotropic drugs at the time.
A Berkeley Street Society member was found passed out in the doorway of a downtown business in his own river of pee. When informed he would have to move, the gentleman declined. When verbally attacked again with reinforcements the newly-dubbed Pee River Bum staggered into the next doorway down, only to pass out again. A member of the constabulary showed up to look at the copious amount of urine and the bum, only to return to their car and drive away. We applaud their efforts.
A young gentleman stood on a downtown street while in the throws of an epic battle raging within his mind that he felt the need to verbally narrate for the general public. The "Dragon Boy," as dubbed by our correspondent on the scene, proceeded to salivate foam and spit as he warned passer-by about the dragons coming from other dimensions. Passionately serious about his subject, he walked back and forth for a great deal of time in his zeal to warn as many people as possible.
Strange spirits erupted from ketchup bottles in a downtown restaurant. Unexplicably three ketchup bottles exploded over patrons seeking a bit of tomato goodness on their fries. When answers were sought none could be offered, leading people to blame the supernatural again.
While visiting a fellow retail lackey, a bs corrspondent witnessed a man in a wheelchair come in and ask the counter person for nipple pasties. Frustrated by his lack of boob and inability to twirl them like Elvira, he left without purchasing a pair.
Fashion!
IT's that time again! The seasons are changing and bums need to change their wardrobe to keep up with fashion. Don't be caught wearing only last year's jeans found on the street. Vintage is in and you'll be shamed in you're seen in nothing more than jeans twenty years old, artfully torn in the butt and covered in filth in the no-no places. No bum should be without the two neccessary items, the Superman t-shirt, especially beloved of can-collectors everywhere and the glamourous dyed glass ring, worn and recommended by Ring Man and others. Why only yesterday an odiferous example of BSS manhood stopped by to show us his stylin' Care Bear sleeping bag and to reesstablish his supply of bum rings by buying a couple.
Ms. Poopie Pants is our featured fashionista of the BSS set. We've seen her sporting a number of snappy outfits but two stand out. In Oakland by Lake Merritt she featured a stunning pair of dirty sweatpants artfully wetted in the most suggestive spots. And while crossing the street in Berkeley she wore a bedraggled blue skirt with a feminine hint of lace at the edge, probably on a date with a good poop in a corner.
Observed:
A member of the Bug-Fuck Crazy Aid Society/Voluntary Vagrant Charm School was observed acting in a strange manner alike the people she was ostesibly supposed to assist. It was suggested that perhaps she was taking an aid to stay alert as her pupils were considerably diliated and there was noticible jaw-griding going on.
Overheard exchange:
"Goddamn, you KNOW me by now!"
"Ya meanie! Ya meanie!"
We have no idea what that exchange meant either but it was hilarious at the time and we had to share it with you. To you our beloved courageous subscribers we wish you good luck. Thank you and good night.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Sharks and wine
We've been lax, we'll admit. We have excuses tailored. We were busy. We were enjoying summer. We were working two jobs. We were watching bad shark movies and drinking wine.
That's a damn good fucking excuse right there.
Any case, it wasn't as though we weren't finding solid gold shit on the street for this esteemed journal. So feast your eyes, gentle reader and bask in the glory of the Berkeley Street Society!
The City of Berkeley has continued on their war on all Berkeley Street Society members, sane and crazed, clean and filthy. This is a drastic change from their former lax enforcement of the handcarting, bedraggled, grumbling, bring us your shambling, obscenity-screaming masses yearning for pocket change existence of the homeless. Many of our more recognizable members have left the City. Others have been downgraded, their possessions seized. Both Viva Bush, who has since moved to a granny cart, and the Painter, who merely walked over the Ace Hardware and started a cart afresh, have suffered this indignity.
If you feel concerned about this sudden reverse in policy, you can join the BSS's newest program: Adopt a Member!
Are you aware that the homeless are becoming endangered in Berkeley? Many of their unnatural environments are being turned against them! The constables frequently raid the parks at night, leaving many to retreat to the cold concrete of south Shattuck. While our most regular BSS members are still about, we worry what will happen to their freedom...so we introduce Adopt a Member!
Our pilot program has so far been a success, we have at least three BSS members now sponsored by responsible citizens who wish to give back to their community by throwing themselves into the relentless, guilt-inducing, heart-breaking struggle of friendship and care taking for a BSS member. It is not a relationship to take lightly but you too can reap the rewards of caring for your fellow human. Just think, no celebrity designed necklace, no funky rubber bracelets, no fancy bags or designer t-shirts involved, just you and another human who wants some spare change and possibly a place to shower.
Breaking news!
"Do you have any plastic pussies?"
Shit Spotting
A large skidderoo was sighted in front of Half Price Books. We deeply sympathize with whoever went skiing in feces, leaving dirty footprints into the store.
Sightings
Dr. Bombay decided to indulge in a bit of fencing one day. Unfortunately no one else was informed of his desire and so to the general public innocently walking down the street, it appeared as though this smelly man in five layers of clothing was attacking them with his cane. Twirling his pimp cane with studious concentration, Dr. Bombay would jump in front of an unsuspecting pedestrian and begin sparring. The person was likely boggled by the shock, the stench, and the extremely loud music coming from Dr. Bombay's ghetto blaster. Yet many managed to scuttle away, leaving the good doctor to his next opponent.
The Schizo was carefully perusing items at a sidewalk sale when she stepped back suddenly, slamming into a vision-impaired gentleman who was passing on the sidewalk behind her. The gentleman, shocked, stopped to regather his senses, but the Schizo had to explain. "You need to say excuse me. Excuse me, you crashing into me. You should apologize. I won't forgive you," she muttered. Shocked, the gentleman quickly continued on his way.
But the young lady attending the sidewalk sale overheard this unorthodox apology, a new one to her, and felt a need to correct the Schizo. "Can't you see he's visually-impaired you rude bitch?!" The Schizo muttered inaudibly and wandered off.
A gentleman entered a store and asked to buy a helium tank. When informed that the store's tank was a fixture he offered to pay a $1000 for it. When asked just why he needed the helium so badly he said he needed it to blow up his car's tires to make his car faster. This was met with disbelief. He then insisted it could work which is when the employees informed him of a store that sold disposable helium tanks in hopes of getting rid of him.
Chainsaw Asshole was overheard by a bs correspondent telling an acquaintance outside McDonald's "that I get compliments for being the cleanest bum on the street. I take care myself, I take care of my clothes, I don't smell.." Our correspondent would like to point out that CA has an dingy Brillo pad for hair and smells so bad that people walk five to ten feet away from him. Another correspondent witnessed him pulling up his filthy once-white socks fastidiously.
Crazy Anne was heard, as always quite loudly, proclaiming "you're fucking up my menopause! YOU FUCKING RAPED ME!" This was followed by her equally well-known piece, "I asked you not to assault me! YOU ARE A CHILD MOLESTER! Don't touch me!" We would like to advise that you never make eye contact with her as she will follow you screaming "you raped me!"
A gentleman smelling distinctly of cigarettes and beer entered a store and began a $50 shopping spree, insisting he had to spend the full amount of $50 to the penny. This became quite a challenge when it was discovered he was .11 short of his goal. He became positively manic about spending the .11 and then insisted on his getting a free item.
EMP lady was sighted early one day screaming her namesake at Ashby BART but later that day she was spotted waiting for the bus, grumbling loudly.
That's a damn good fucking excuse right there.
Any case, it wasn't as though we weren't finding solid gold shit on the street for this esteemed journal. So feast your eyes, gentle reader and bask in the glory of the Berkeley Street Society!
The City of Berkeley has continued on their war on all Berkeley Street Society members, sane and crazed, clean and filthy. This is a drastic change from their former lax enforcement of the handcarting, bedraggled, grumbling, bring us your shambling, obscenity-screaming masses yearning for pocket change existence of the homeless. Many of our more recognizable members have left the City. Others have been downgraded, their possessions seized. Both Viva Bush, who has since moved to a granny cart, and the Painter, who merely walked over the Ace Hardware and started a cart afresh, have suffered this indignity.
If you feel concerned about this sudden reverse in policy, you can join the BSS's newest program: Adopt a Member!
Are you aware that the homeless are becoming endangered in Berkeley? Many of their unnatural environments are being turned against them! The constables frequently raid the parks at night, leaving many to retreat to the cold concrete of south Shattuck. While our most regular BSS members are still about, we worry what will happen to their freedom...so we introduce Adopt a Member!
Our pilot program has so far been a success, we have at least three BSS members now sponsored by responsible citizens who wish to give back to their community by throwing themselves into the relentless, guilt-inducing, heart-breaking struggle of friendship and care taking for a BSS member. It is not a relationship to take lightly but you too can reap the rewards of caring for your fellow human. Just think, no celebrity designed necklace, no funky rubber bracelets, no fancy bags or designer t-shirts involved, just you and another human who wants some spare change and possibly a place to shower.
Breaking news!
"Do you have any plastic pussies?"
Shit Spotting
A large skidderoo was sighted in front of Half Price Books. We deeply sympathize with whoever went skiing in feces, leaving dirty footprints into the store.
Sightings
Dr. Bombay decided to indulge in a bit of fencing one day. Unfortunately no one else was informed of his desire and so to the general public innocently walking down the street, it appeared as though this smelly man in five layers of clothing was attacking them with his cane. Twirling his pimp cane with studious concentration, Dr. Bombay would jump in front of an unsuspecting pedestrian and begin sparring. The person was likely boggled by the shock, the stench, and the extremely loud music coming from Dr. Bombay's ghetto blaster. Yet many managed to scuttle away, leaving the good doctor to his next opponent.
The Schizo was carefully perusing items at a sidewalk sale when she stepped back suddenly, slamming into a vision-impaired gentleman who was passing on the sidewalk behind her. The gentleman, shocked, stopped to regather his senses, but the Schizo had to explain. "You need to say excuse me. Excuse me, you crashing into me. You should apologize. I won't forgive you," she muttered. Shocked, the gentleman quickly continued on his way.
But the young lady attending the sidewalk sale overheard this unorthodox apology, a new one to her, and felt a need to correct the Schizo. "Can't you see he's visually-impaired you rude bitch?!" The Schizo muttered inaudibly and wandered off.
A gentleman entered a store and asked to buy a helium tank. When informed that the store's tank was a fixture he offered to pay a $1000 for it. When asked just why he needed the helium so badly he said he needed it to blow up his car's tires to make his car faster. This was met with disbelief. He then insisted it could work which is when the employees informed him of a store that sold disposable helium tanks in hopes of getting rid of him.
Chainsaw Asshole was overheard by a bs correspondent telling an acquaintance outside McDonald's "that I get compliments for being the cleanest bum on the street. I take care myself, I take care of my clothes, I don't smell.." Our correspondent would like to point out that CA has an dingy Brillo pad for hair and smells so bad that people walk five to ten feet away from him. Another correspondent witnessed him pulling up his filthy once-white socks fastidiously.
Crazy Anne was heard, as always quite loudly, proclaiming "you're fucking up my menopause! YOU FUCKING RAPED ME!" This was followed by her equally well-known piece, "I asked you not to assault me! YOU ARE A CHILD MOLESTER! Don't touch me!" We would like to advise that you never make eye contact with her as she will follow you screaming "you raped me!"
A gentleman smelling distinctly of cigarettes and beer entered a store and began a $50 shopping spree, insisting he had to spend the full amount of $50 to the penny. This became quite a challenge when it was discovered he was .11 short of his goal. He became positively manic about spending the .11 and then insisted on his getting a free item.
EMP lady was sighted early one day screaming her namesake at Ashby BART but later that day she was spotted waiting for the bus, grumbling loudly.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Things begin to go awry
Berkeley has declared war on the Berkeley Street Society. As a direct result all of the relatively peaceful street folk are now angry too. The bum roundabout is in full effect with new bums turning up all the time and everyone is unhappy that Berkeley has decided that the best way to deal with BSS members is to alienate them all by ticketing, arresting, and attacking business owners that help the nicer ones. In the meantime the mean and ill ones still roam the streets shouting at random and businesses downtown continue to go out of business. Parking remains impossible to find and incredibly expensive. Isn't it strange that Berkeley somehow assumes that if they get rid of ALL the homeless people that business will somehow forget the dirty streets, the lack of public bathrooms, the smell of urine as a result, the lack of parking and general mistreatment by the city itself with its interminable permit process and minutiae? And of course, the city assumes somehow the public will forget that Berkeley has been synonymous with homeless since People's Park was created? Of course we are forgetting that BSS members show no inclination of leaving, mostly because where else do they have to go?
TRAVEL
Some of the BSS members have found the climate here unsuitable so some of them have been spotted testing the water in other areas. But they always return.
A panhandler recognized for regularly working the corner in front of BofA downtown was spotted in downtown San Francisco. It is known that he commutes from Oakland to Berkeley on Bart everyday, so it is only a little further to go to the City. It didn't take though, after two weeks he's back to running his hands through his hands muttering, "wantaginmechang" and yelling about smelling gas, "would someone turn the gas heater off?"
Chainsaw Asshole was also spotting touring the provinces, he was seen in Alameda of all places, pretending to be a completely normal shopper. Very mysterious.
We have also heard a wonderful tale about a gentlemen from Richmond called "the Backflip Guy." Apparently he runs into the local Jack in a Box to a table full of people and offers a fair exchange, he will perform a backflip in the restaurant for money and odd change. As the gentlemen is apparently very tall and rail thin this peaks most jaded twenty-something's interest. Money is thrown on the table and the gentlemen literally does a backflip in front of the table and lands in place. He flashes a gleaming smile and takes the money, disappearing as angry management tired of the display move from behind the counter.
Also brought to us by our bs correspondents is a tale of discord. Imagine a bart station in downtown san francisco and now picture on one side a musician trying to play the sax and on the other side a musician trying to play an Asian intrument that uses the bow. Imagine the reverb in the empty multi-floored space. Imagine the noise. Witness the battle of the BART musicians - each determined to make money off rush hour and neither willing to admit defeat.
BREAKING NEWS:
"I DON'T know who the Anti-Christ is!"
We continue to give to the community by this 2nd installment in our series of How-to's, titled:
HOW TO TELL THE "EAT MY TWAT" LADY FROM THE "EAT MY PUSSY" LADY
Well, first of all the Eat My Twat lady is a little white lady while the Eat My Pussy lady is a big black lady. They typically roam the same neighborhood but the EMT lady only yells her nickname when she is being arrested by the local constabulary. The EMP lady doesn't need a reason to yell. She is typically combative and profane and her most frequent target is women. She will make eye-contact and start screaming at the available victim to take their pussy out of there, to wash their pussy and to eat her pussy. By this point the veins are bulging in her neck and her eyes are red with rage. It is thought that perhaps Evil Old Woman is her mother, but this remains unconfirmed.
And to tie in to our previous article we include this shocking account, we bring you:
EYE-WITNESS
Flashback to year 2000, it was on the ac transit 51 and there was I, the EMP lady and this innocent little asian Cal student. The EMP lady was sitting in the back of the bus but I knew better, as did many people on the bus, so only the little Cal girl walked to the back of the bus and sat down in her vicinity. "I can smell your pussy! I can SMELL your pussy! You need to wash, bitch! You need to WASH your pussy! You bitch! STD BITCH! HERPES BITCH! EAT MY PUSSY BITCH!" During this I watched in horror and I was thankful it was not me, although the girl was terrified and fixed her eyes out the window, diligently trying not to hear the terrible things.
SIGHTINGS
Pumpkin lady has returned! After a month of no sightings we began to wonder but hark! There she was dancing on the sidewalk, her face smeared with makeup, muttering to herself, going crazy for all the world to see.
Smelly Claus I has accessorized! He now sports a snazzy mangled feather scotch-taped to his beanie hat. He took his time to lounge in the B of A circle so all may see his herniated baggy-panted grandeur. Later he was spotted sitting on a ledge ravaging a bag of Lays potato chips.
Manimal made a brief reappearance, arguing in public no less. But sadly she is back to hiding in her den once more.
Smile Guy, he of the cheerful demeanor and high-pitched squeal of girlish glee announced to us estastically that he had reached a benchmark. He is now the proud owner of 1500 bouncy balls. There is something telling about an needy wimp saying he collects balls.
Ms. Poopie Pants has been seen recently, casually strolling around in a variety of fashionable outfits, all of which are cleaner than her nickname. We particularly enjoyed the stunning button-up shirt used as a skirt.
The Cowboy has returned. He really really wants his dog back.
Omar Perro tried to hug children who are frightened of a scary smelly man and harassed a woman by telling he that she was dirty in a "sexy" voice.
A woman recognized by one of our bs correspondents as being completely crazy despite her neat clean appearance announced to passerby "you better get out of here you negros! I'll call the cops on you negros!" She always drags a little wheelie bag and carries a bright yellow bag. She also announced to another passer-by "you've got a lot of crazy bitches here in Berkeley." The passer-by refrained from mentioning to the woman that she was one of them.
An emaciated man who has obviously not shaved or had a haircut in years proceeded to crawl up Shattuck, pushing his backpack before him, his pants ever threatening to slide off. Everyone was visibly horrified.
A gentleman with a backpacking pack on proceeded to thoroughly investigate the $1 chinese food place's trash despite the owner's attempts to dissuade him.
One Street Society member attempted to stop a pedestrian in rush and when she did not stop he yelled after her, "Fine, call the cops on me for harassing you!" She looked back, totally bewildered.
Viva Bush was spotted with his head shaved and without his dog. We are told he visits it, whereever it is.
INTRODUCTIONS
You have probably seen Scab McMuffin in his daily trek to the McDonalds' downtown. He is marked by a large scab that takes up half his face. He must tear it open on a regular basis because it is frequently bloody and it amazingly NEVER heals. You can see Scab McMuffin walking in the car lane closest to the street, scarfing his McDonalds filth out of the bag. Typically he will finish it up on the corner and then disappear. This is a daily occurrence. We have never seen him anywhere else.
The Painter is most often found in his territory which is the area around College and Ashby. He is easily recognized with his bright purple hat and cart filled with art projects in progress. Frequently he is found on benches busily working away with some new project balanced on his tattered sweater covered belly.
Drinky Bill is a regular in downtown. He's quiet, especially when he's surreptitiously drinking out of a paper bag. He's easily recognized by his bulbous drinker's nose.
He likes to beg for change at various spots in the downtown area and he has a lot of friends that come up and talk to him. One of his more annoying habits involve him being sprawled in front of a business with his shoes off picking his feet.
SUCCESS!
We have found a public bathroom downtown. It is behind the Civic Center on Milvia and is, of course, not clearly marked and only open at odd hours. Look for the homeless people going in and out and then you've found it.
TRAVEL
Some of the BSS members have found the climate here unsuitable so some of them have been spotted testing the water in other areas. But they always return.
A panhandler recognized for regularly working the corner in front of BofA downtown was spotted in downtown San Francisco. It is known that he commutes from Oakland to Berkeley on Bart everyday, so it is only a little further to go to the City. It didn't take though, after two weeks he's back to running his hands through his hands muttering, "wantaginmechang" and yelling about smelling gas, "would someone turn the gas heater off?"
Chainsaw Asshole was also spotting touring the provinces, he was seen in Alameda of all places, pretending to be a completely normal shopper. Very mysterious.
We have also heard a wonderful tale about a gentlemen from Richmond called "the Backflip Guy." Apparently he runs into the local Jack in a Box to a table full of people and offers a fair exchange, he will perform a backflip in the restaurant for money and odd change. As the gentlemen is apparently very tall and rail thin this peaks most jaded twenty-something's interest. Money is thrown on the table and the gentlemen literally does a backflip in front of the table and lands in place. He flashes a gleaming smile and takes the money, disappearing as angry management tired of the display move from behind the counter.
Also brought to us by our bs correspondents is a tale of discord. Imagine a bart station in downtown san francisco and now picture on one side a musician trying to play the sax and on the other side a musician trying to play an Asian intrument that uses the bow. Imagine the reverb in the empty multi-floored space. Imagine the noise. Witness the battle of the BART musicians - each determined to make money off rush hour and neither willing to admit defeat.
BREAKING NEWS:
"I DON'T know who the Anti-Christ is!"
We continue to give to the community by this 2nd installment in our series of How-to's, titled:
HOW TO TELL THE "EAT MY TWAT" LADY FROM THE "EAT MY PUSSY" LADY
Well, first of all the Eat My Twat lady is a little white lady while the Eat My Pussy lady is a big black lady. They typically roam the same neighborhood but the EMT lady only yells her nickname when she is being arrested by the local constabulary. The EMP lady doesn't need a reason to yell. She is typically combative and profane and her most frequent target is women. She will make eye-contact and start screaming at the available victim to take their pussy out of there, to wash their pussy and to eat her pussy. By this point the veins are bulging in her neck and her eyes are red with rage. It is thought that perhaps Evil Old Woman is her mother, but this remains unconfirmed.
And to tie in to our previous article we include this shocking account, we bring you:
EYE-WITNESS
Flashback to year 2000, it was on the ac transit 51 and there was I, the EMP lady and this innocent little asian Cal student. The EMP lady was sitting in the back of the bus but I knew better, as did many people on the bus, so only the little Cal girl walked to the back of the bus and sat down in her vicinity. "I can smell your pussy! I can SMELL your pussy! You need to wash, bitch! You need to WASH your pussy! You bitch! STD BITCH! HERPES BITCH! EAT MY PUSSY BITCH!" During this I watched in horror and I was thankful it was not me, although the girl was terrified and fixed her eyes out the window, diligently trying not to hear the terrible things.
SIGHTINGS
Pumpkin lady has returned! After a month of no sightings we began to wonder but hark! There she was dancing on the sidewalk, her face smeared with makeup, muttering to herself, going crazy for all the world to see.
Smelly Claus I has accessorized! He now sports a snazzy mangled feather scotch-taped to his beanie hat. He took his time to lounge in the B of A circle so all may see his herniated baggy-panted grandeur. Later he was spotted sitting on a ledge ravaging a bag of Lays potato chips.
Manimal made a brief reappearance, arguing in public no less. But sadly she is back to hiding in her den once more.
Smile Guy, he of the cheerful demeanor and high-pitched squeal of girlish glee announced to us estastically that he had reached a benchmark. He is now the proud owner of 1500 bouncy balls. There is something telling about an needy wimp saying he collects balls.
Ms. Poopie Pants has been seen recently, casually strolling around in a variety of fashionable outfits, all of which are cleaner than her nickname. We particularly enjoyed the stunning button-up shirt used as a skirt.
The Cowboy has returned. He really really wants his dog back.
Omar Perro tried to hug children who are frightened of a scary smelly man and harassed a woman by telling he that she was dirty in a "sexy" voice.
A woman recognized by one of our bs correspondents as being completely crazy despite her neat clean appearance announced to passerby "you better get out of here you negros! I'll call the cops on you negros!" She always drags a little wheelie bag and carries a bright yellow bag. She also announced to another passer-by "you've got a lot of crazy bitches here in Berkeley." The passer-by refrained from mentioning to the woman that she was one of them.
An emaciated man who has obviously not shaved or had a haircut in years proceeded to crawl up Shattuck, pushing his backpack before him, his pants ever threatening to slide off. Everyone was visibly horrified.
A gentleman with a backpacking pack on proceeded to thoroughly investigate the $1 chinese food place's trash despite the owner's attempts to dissuade him.
One Street Society member attempted to stop a pedestrian in rush and when she did not stop he yelled after her, "Fine, call the cops on me for harassing you!" She looked back, totally bewildered.
Viva Bush was spotted with his head shaved and without his dog. We are told he visits it, whereever it is.
INTRODUCTIONS
You have probably seen Scab McMuffin in his daily trek to the McDonalds' downtown. He is marked by a large scab that takes up half his face. He must tear it open on a regular basis because it is frequently bloody and it amazingly NEVER heals. You can see Scab McMuffin walking in the car lane closest to the street, scarfing his McDonalds filth out of the bag. Typically he will finish it up on the corner and then disappear. This is a daily occurrence. We have never seen him anywhere else.
The Painter is most often found in his territory which is the area around College and Ashby. He is easily recognized with his bright purple hat and cart filled with art projects in progress. Frequently he is found on benches busily working away with some new project balanced on his tattered sweater covered belly.
Drinky Bill is a regular in downtown. He's quiet, especially when he's surreptitiously drinking out of a paper bag. He's easily recognized by his bulbous drinker's nose.
He likes to beg for change at various spots in the downtown area and he has a lot of friends that come up and talk to him. One of his more annoying habits involve him being sprawled in front of a business with his shoes off picking his feet.
SUCCESS!
We have found a public bathroom downtown. It is behind the Civic Center on Milvia and is, of course, not clearly marked and only open at odd hours. Look for the homeless people going in and out and then you've found it.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
BSS loves you
Salutations BSS subscribers!
We regret that we took a two week hiatus to spend some quality time dumpster diving in these choice weeks that mark the end of the university semester and the beginning of summer. We found some new broken furniture but it was a betrayal because it took time away from you, our beloved readers. So we regret that we let some new paintings come between us. We're shameless whores, but we've come back to our first love - the reporting on Berkeley wingnut incidents. We're on the frontlines of Berkeley freakdom for you. You owe us.
I must take the time to spin you a tragic tale of Berkeley called the ballad of the Cowboy and his dog. First the cowboy's dog was taken away in a false confrontation in which the animal was accused of biting someone. Then when the Cowboy, in a fit of self-sacrifice and realization gave up his dog for adoption at the local animal shelter, we were deeply saddened. Everyday the Cowboy had to put up with passers-by who recognized him asking after his lost puppy. Finally, he had had it with Berkeley. The loss of his dog and the constant harassment by Berkeley police with tickets for loitering, for smoking, for just being homeless in a world where homicidal maniacs own houses. In the Berkeley Street Society we have no end of members that suffer mental illness, the Cowboy was one of them but unlike the rest, he kept himself under control. He knew he was not all there and worked with it. He never begged. Never peed in a doorway. Never beat his dog. Never screamed at passerby. Never littered. And he was driven away for being homeless, leaving us with such sterling examples of BSS such as Omar Perro and Ring Man, both highly recognizable members that harass the public on a daily basis. So Berkeley, where is your heart? We would like to see the members who are dangerous to the community get help, but those who are not taking away, how are they a threat?
Breaking news:
Take the twine! We need the twine!
Sightings:
Omar Perro was very frisky in recent weeks. We had no end of sightings of him poking his head in doorways where he was unwanted, harassing fellow bums with his jocularity and the best incident was this week, when he decided to harass an elderly french man who spoke little to no english. Following him closely, Omar Perro loudly announced to the gentleman, "I'm Hitler! I'm Hitler!" The poor man was afraid and not sure if he was being insulted. Finally lookers on proceeded to rescue the man causing Omar to charge in a rage.
One of our bs correspondents happened to see this little gem of an interaction>
In a downtown Berkeley store we saw a morbidly obese woman harassing a clerk endlessly with questions about items and prices, all the while sounding as though she had a loaf of bread in her mouth. Her hygiene was rather dubious as well, when we noted the dried rice encrusted at the apex of her mammoth stomach. She was in the process of showing her love for her "boyfriend Orlando" by buying him tokens of her gargantuan love. We can't help wondering if "Orlando" helps her wash in all the hard to reach places.
Denture guy was up to his old tricks trying to enter downtown stores in search of dentures. It mattered not what the store actually sold, he was going to find something that he could use for dentures, be it wax lips or teeth covers!
Ring Man happily cavorted down streets, rolled around at his sleeping spot across from Starbucks on Oxford and particularly enjoyed yelling profanity into store entrances delighting employees everywhere downtown.
Of late there have been a number of articles in the local papers discussing that delightful society of bicyclists known as Critical Mass. They are merely any gathering of people that wish to commandeer the streets in protest of smog causing gas consuming vehicles. We've invited one of our bs correspondents to answer the question, why has Critical Mass been subjected to so much criticism recently? -
It seems to me that Critical Mass is in trouble. What is wrong with Critical Mass? I'll tell you what's wrong - assholes!
The majority of bicyclists that join Critical Mass bike rides, normally the last friday of the month in any city or town that chooses to start one, are peaceful folks having a green goody-twoshoes powertrip. It's the assholes that infiltrate a movement and turn out sour. These so called anarchists are apparently pissants who hate the idea of a peaceful demonstration in which everyone has a good time. When Critical Mass rides up University and makes a leisurely victory lap at the intersection of University and Shattuck no one really minds. Everyone is amused. It's when the bulk of the group has moved off down Shattuck and a couple of BMXers are still doing wheelies in the middle of the street and some other guys decide to sit on their ass on their bike in front some car, blocking traffic. Then a couple of assholes decide to push their luck and do a couple more victory laps. Honking obviously ensues. Tensions rise. Road rage occurs. I say to these assholes, fuck off!
We don't need your supposed earth-lovin vindictiveness. And I certainly don't want your holier-than-thou attitude blocking my pedestrian rights at a green light again.
The horror of when your workplace is turned into a sexually charged environment against your will! What is your recourse! Why aren't you allowed to use mace on the general public!? When will your bosses issue you a standard taser?! BSS is proud to bring you again -
EYE-WITNESS
What do you do when someone gets turned on by the thought of getting caught in public with a boner? Then what do you do when this person enters your place of work? And rests his rod on your counter? A man, or a man-child, entered the store wearing extremely saggy jeans that looked a trifle odd. That might have been because his zipper was open and a mysterious red jersey swathed object was standing at attention. Obviously he wanted all of us to salute it because he was extremely polite, taking trouble to start conversations with everyone in the store, bouncing a bit on his heels in hopes it would draw our eye. He was very polite but obviously very excited. Finally, impatient that no one had yet shrieked and yelled, "oh my god his penis is hanging out of his pants!" he walked up to the counter and said, oh so suggestively, "Oh no, I forgot my belt today and my pants are just coming off!"
We have the pepper spray waiting, bucko.
Just try it again.
Introductions:
You may have seen him around town - the Mole Man. He's one of those genuine Berkeley characters, a man of short stature dressed in a uniform of his own devising. We have never seen him without his giant furry boots, skin tight black leggings, huge black leather jacket, belt with lightsaber and other accessories, crash helmet and aviator goggles. He doesn't bathe either so he's very noticable in close quarters. So far no one we know has had a bad incident with him, but he draws the eye to be sure.
It is not a man, it is a beast, a putridfaction in human form, a creature we can only call the Stench. Imagine uncleaned latrines, dead animals and the scent of old urine in Berkeley doorways and you come somewhere near the smell of this man. At least we think it was a man. He wore so many layers of clothing that he appeared mummified. Any attempted interaction with him resulted in him tweedling a miniture recorder on a string around his neck. The smell rolling off him was so incredible we could hardly understand how didn't pass out from the stench of his own body. People were fleeing from him in all directions. His stench is embedded in our mind for all time. Beware him. Shun him. Avoid him. For he is, the Stench!!
We regret that we took a two week hiatus to spend some quality time dumpster diving in these choice weeks that mark the end of the university semester and the beginning of summer. We found some new broken furniture but it was a betrayal because it took time away from you, our beloved readers. So we regret that we let some new paintings come between us. We're shameless whores, but we've come back to our first love - the reporting on Berkeley wingnut incidents. We're on the frontlines of Berkeley freakdom for you. You owe us.
I must take the time to spin you a tragic tale of Berkeley called the ballad of the Cowboy and his dog. First the cowboy's dog was taken away in a false confrontation in which the animal was accused of biting someone. Then when the Cowboy, in a fit of self-sacrifice and realization gave up his dog for adoption at the local animal shelter, we were deeply saddened. Everyday the Cowboy had to put up with passers-by who recognized him asking after his lost puppy. Finally, he had had it with Berkeley. The loss of his dog and the constant harassment by Berkeley police with tickets for loitering, for smoking, for just being homeless in a world where homicidal maniacs own houses. In the Berkeley Street Society we have no end of members that suffer mental illness, the Cowboy was one of them but unlike the rest, he kept himself under control. He knew he was not all there and worked with it. He never begged. Never peed in a doorway. Never beat his dog. Never screamed at passerby. Never littered. And he was driven away for being homeless, leaving us with such sterling examples of BSS such as Omar Perro and Ring Man, both highly recognizable members that harass the public on a daily basis. So Berkeley, where is your heart? We would like to see the members who are dangerous to the community get help, but those who are not taking away, how are they a threat?
Breaking news:
Take the twine! We need the twine!
Sightings:
Omar Perro was very frisky in recent weeks. We had no end of sightings of him poking his head in doorways where he was unwanted, harassing fellow bums with his jocularity and the best incident was this week, when he decided to harass an elderly french man who spoke little to no english. Following him closely, Omar Perro loudly announced to the gentleman, "I'm Hitler! I'm Hitler!" The poor man was afraid and not sure if he was being insulted. Finally lookers on proceeded to rescue the man causing Omar to charge in a rage.
One of our bs correspondents happened to see this little gem of an interaction>
In a downtown Berkeley store we saw a morbidly obese woman harassing a clerk endlessly with questions about items and prices, all the while sounding as though she had a loaf of bread in her mouth. Her hygiene was rather dubious as well, when we noted the dried rice encrusted at the apex of her mammoth stomach. She was in the process of showing her love for her "boyfriend Orlando" by buying him tokens of her gargantuan love. We can't help wondering if "Orlando" helps her wash in all the hard to reach places.
Denture guy was up to his old tricks trying to enter downtown stores in search of dentures. It mattered not what the store actually sold, he was going to find something that he could use for dentures, be it wax lips or teeth covers!
Ring Man happily cavorted down streets, rolled around at his sleeping spot across from Starbucks on Oxford and particularly enjoyed yelling profanity into store entrances delighting employees everywhere downtown.
Of late there have been a number of articles in the local papers discussing that delightful society of bicyclists known as Critical Mass. They are merely any gathering of people that wish to commandeer the streets in protest of smog causing gas consuming vehicles. We've invited one of our bs correspondents to answer the question, why has Critical Mass been subjected to so much criticism recently? -
It seems to me that Critical Mass is in trouble. What is wrong with Critical Mass? I'll tell you what's wrong - assholes!
The majority of bicyclists that join Critical Mass bike rides, normally the last friday of the month in any city or town that chooses to start one, are peaceful folks having a green goody-twoshoes powertrip. It's the assholes that infiltrate a movement and turn out sour. These so called anarchists are apparently pissants who hate the idea of a peaceful demonstration in which everyone has a good time. When Critical Mass rides up University and makes a leisurely victory lap at the intersection of University and Shattuck no one really minds. Everyone is amused. It's when the bulk of the group has moved off down Shattuck and a couple of BMXers are still doing wheelies in the middle of the street and some other guys decide to sit on their ass on their bike in front some car, blocking traffic. Then a couple of assholes decide to push their luck and do a couple more victory laps. Honking obviously ensues. Tensions rise. Road rage occurs. I say to these assholes, fuck off!
We don't need your supposed earth-lovin vindictiveness. And I certainly don't want your holier-than-thou attitude blocking my pedestrian rights at a green light again.
The horror of when your workplace is turned into a sexually charged environment against your will! What is your recourse! Why aren't you allowed to use mace on the general public!? When will your bosses issue you a standard taser?! BSS is proud to bring you again -
EYE-WITNESS
What do you do when someone gets turned on by the thought of getting caught in public with a boner? Then what do you do when this person enters your place of work? And rests his rod on your counter? A man, or a man-child, entered the store wearing extremely saggy jeans that looked a trifle odd. That might have been because his zipper was open and a mysterious red jersey swathed object was standing at attention. Obviously he wanted all of us to salute it because he was extremely polite, taking trouble to start conversations with everyone in the store, bouncing a bit on his heels in hopes it would draw our eye. He was very polite but obviously very excited. Finally, impatient that no one had yet shrieked and yelled, "oh my god his penis is hanging out of his pants!" he walked up to the counter and said, oh so suggestively, "Oh no, I forgot my belt today and my pants are just coming off!"
We have the pepper spray waiting, bucko.
Just try it again.
Introductions:
You may have seen him around town - the Mole Man. He's one of those genuine Berkeley characters, a man of short stature dressed in a uniform of his own devising. We have never seen him without his giant furry boots, skin tight black leggings, huge black leather jacket, belt with lightsaber and other accessories, crash helmet and aviator goggles. He doesn't bathe either so he's very noticable in close quarters. So far no one we know has had a bad incident with him, but he draws the eye to be sure.
It is not a man, it is a beast, a putridfaction in human form, a creature we can only call the Stench. Imagine uncleaned latrines, dead animals and the scent of old urine in Berkeley doorways and you come somewhere near the smell of this man. At least we think it was a man. He wore so many layers of clothing that he appeared mummified. Any attempted interaction with him resulted in him tweedling a miniture recorder on a string around his neck. The smell rolling off him was so incredible we could hardly understand how didn't pass out from the stench of his own body. People were fleeing from him in all directions. His stench is embedded in our mind for all time. Beware him. Shun him. Avoid him. For he is, the Stench!!
Sunday, May 6, 2007
In which we identify a number of threats to Berkeley's quality of life
We have lately been blessed with a number of days during which Berkeley's weather has been warm, if not decidedly hot. It is during these hot days that, wherever you walk on the streets, an aroma that is normally merely an undercurrent comes full force to your attention. For the faint of heart I warn you, I speak of the pervasive stench of aged dried pools of urine! It is everywhere, on every block, in every other front yard, especially in every recess and corner of downtown streets. Those hoping to use the payphone, beware, for the stench is there as well. No rain can manage to erase the rivers of yellow that the innocent sidewalks have absorbed for years, perhaps decades, and so on any beautiful day Berkeley will be forever associated with strong odor of ammonia.
We bs correspondents are happy to inform our readers that the Cowboy was reunited with his dog this week to great joy and improved mental health. It is also with mixed feelings we must share that Manimal has returned but has renounced her mantle of crime-fighter, feeling that such enforcement is better left to the constables. We miss you Manimal.
For those of our readers who enjoy the tales of those who wander the streets of Berkeley, forever searching, we are happy to bring you another installment of:
IN SEARCH OF A BATHROOM, pt 3
A woman and her teenage daughter entered the store and were looking around at the merchandise. They wandered into the back of the store and frankly did not gain my attention, being in general quiet and well-behaved customers. Suddenly, the mother ran up to the front counter and asked, "Do you have a bathroom?"
To which we employees looked at each other for we have to clean our own bathroom and so are very particular who gets to use our facilities. As we hesitated, the teenage daughter had come up from the back of the store and, without any preamble, spectacularly upchucked all over the card rack. It was extremely watery and drippy and formed large pools of slime everywhere. we turned to the mother and said, "why didn't you say it was an emergency?!" There is very little hesitation on our part when our carpet is at stake. She merely apologized and horrified, whisked her daughter from the store before we could say more.
Why are there so many SMELLY CLAUSES?
Berkeley has too many fat smelly disgusting horrible white men. They all look and smell alike! With their filthy white beards and problematic habit of trying to pick up college age women these men are a threat to Berkeley as we know it! There are so many of them that we bs correspondents had to develop a numbering system. Smelly Claus #3 came to our attention recently when he entered a store, threw his jacket on the floor and proceeded to throw merchandise on the floor. When asked to pick up his jacket, he replied he had no jacket. Ultimately he was kicked out of the store for making a mess and being a general psycho. He left his jacket so it was also thrown out of the store.
Later that day he returned in a new blue jacket insisting he had to buy something. After making a minor purchase he walked out to a double parked car and proceeded, irregardless of the driver, to attempt to shove his receipt through the car window seam. What will make the constabulary realize that Smelly Clauses are a threat.
Breaking news -
Without his sideburns, he'd be nothing!
It's been a busy week for the local constabulary and so we have for you:
Sightings-
Our favorite lady, Need for Speed, was apparently a little too full of mullet-activated aggression after being released from custody for the umpteenth time. That afternoon the constables took her in again, treating us all to a verbal work of ear-searing rage.
Dreadful, known for his tremendous dreads, was spotted wandering and moaning down the street bringing a welcome end to his muttering phase.
A BSS member known as the Laugher was spotted twice doing what he is known for. To apparently trigger his laughter he must throw down his blanket anywhere on a public street downtown, throw himself on it, and then he catnaps and wakes himself up by laughing hysterically for no obvious reason.
Smile guy, he of the squeaky voice and happy go lucky temperament, has been awarded honorary BSS member by us bs correspondents after he rebuked us for not smiling for the thousandth time. You may have seen him humming his way down the street on several occasions.
Dr. Bombay has added to his current wardrobe some Morris dancing bells at his ankles. Which we appreciate the warning (we now can hear him from two blocks off, versus the one block when the wind was blowing his stench in our direction)he does create a rather comical appearance with his ridiculously over sized new sneakers, ankle bells, pimp cane, layers of clothing, and three hats included the carefully balanced baby blue New York Yankees ball cap.
the Schizo made several appearances this week, the best of which was the one in which she entered a store, bought two different single sheets of stationary and then stapled them together with the receipt several times.
A gentleman has been brought to our attention by the employees of a local store. They claim this man comes in every other week and proceeds to try out all of the party horns, not content with buying a pack or soiling merely one with his saliva. After careful selection, which can last upwards of five minutes of tweedling, he purchases his new treasured possession.
We bs correspondents are happy to inform our readers that the Cowboy was reunited with his dog this week to great joy and improved mental health. It is also with mixed feelings we must share that Manimal has returned but has renounced her mantle of crime-fighter, feeling that such enforcement is better left to the constables. We miss you Manimal.
For those of our readers who enjoy the tales of those who wander the streets of Berkeley, forever searching, we are happy to bring you another installment of:
IN SEARCH OF A BATHROOM, pt 3
A woman and her teenage daughter entered the store and were looking around at the merchandise. They wandered into the back of the store and frankly did not gain my attention, being in general quiet and well-behaved customers. Suddenly, the mother ran up to the front counter and asked, "Do you have a bathroom?"
To which we employees looked at each other for we have to clean our own bathroom and so are very particular who gets to use our facilities. As we hesitated, the teenage daughter had come up from the back of the store and, without any preamble, spectacularly upchucked all over the card rack. It was extremely watery and drippy and formed large pools of slime everywhere. we turned to the mother and said, "why didn't you say it was an emergency?!" There is very little hesitation on our part when our carpet is at stake. She merely apologized and horrified, whisked her daughter from the store before we could say more.
Why are there so many SMELLY CLAUSES?
Berkeley has too many fat smelly disgusting horrible white men. They all look and smell alike! With their filthy white beards and problematic habit of trying to pick up college age women these men are a threat to Berkeley as we know it! There are so many of them that we bs correspondents had to develop a numbering system. Smelly Claus #3 came to our attention recently when he entered a store, threw his jacket on the floor and proceeded to throw merchandise on the floor. When asked to pick up his jacket, he replied he had no jacket. Ultimately he was kicked out of the store for making a mess and being a general psycho. He left his jacket so it was also thrown out of the store.
Later that day he returned in a new blue jacket insisting he had to buy something. After making a minor purchase he walked out to a double parked car and proceeded, irregardless of the driver, to attempt to shove his receipt through the car window seam. What will make the constabulary realize that Smelly Clauses are a threat.
Breaking news -
Without his sideburns, he'd be nothing!
It's been a busy week for the local constabulary and so we have for you:
Sightings-
Our favorite lady, Need for Speed, was apparently a little too full of mullet-activated aggression after being released from custody for the umpteenth time. That afternoon the constables took her in again, treating us all to a verbal work of ear-searing rage.
Dreadful, known for his tremendous dreads, was spotted wandering and moaning down the street bringing a welcome end to his muttering phase.
A BSS member known as the Laugher was spotted twice doing what he is known for. To apparently trigger his laughter he must throw down his blanket anywhere on a public street downtown, throw himself on it, and then he catnaps and wakes himself up by laughing hysterically for no obvious reason.
Smile guy, he of the squeaky voice and happy go lucky temperament, has been awarded honorary BSS member by us bs correspondents after he rebuked us for not smiling for the thousandth time. You may have seen him humming his way down the street on several occasions.
Dr. Bombay has added to his current wardrobe some Morris dancing bells at his ankles. Which we appreciate the warning (we now can hear him from two blocks off, versus the one block when the wind was blowing his stench in our direction)he does create a rather comical appearance with his ridiculously over sized new sneakers, ankle bells, pimp cane, layers of clothing, and three hats included the carefully balanced baby blue New York Yankees ball cap.
the Schizo made several appearances this week, the best of which was the one in which she entered a store, bought two different single sheets of stationary and then stapled them together with the receipt several times.
A gentleman has been brought to our attention by the employees of a local store. They claim this man comes in every other week and proceeds to try out all of the party horns, not content with buying a pack or soiling merely one with his saliva. After careful selection, which can last upwards of five minutes of tweedling, he purchases his new treasured possession.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Beware the mutterers!
Berkeley Street Society members struck back this week by unleashing their legions of mutterers in an effort to remind downtown why they are Berkeley's most treasured mobile landmarks. No business was safe, no passerby unaware of the presence of Berkely Street Society. Feel the power of solidarity!
Breaking news
Goddam this draft dodger war!
We bs correspondents were saddened this week not only by the continued absence of Manimal, but also by the tragedy of the Cowboy. The Cowboy and his dog are a constant presence downtown and are remarkable if only because they never panhandle, are really polite and keep mostly to themselves. This week the local constabulary decided to take the Cowboy's dog away and in her absence the Cowboy is noticably falling apart. Here's hoping the Cowboy will get his dog back. He really misses her and shame on the Berkeley constables for parting them.
We introduce a new Berkeley program sure to keep the streets full for decades. Bring your teenager to Berkeley for the BSS in training program! We witnessed a teen in training to be the next Evil Old Lady. We're positive she'll be perfect as we saw her rip into a gentle old woman by screaming "Bitch, you fuckin' bitch, Bitch." After watching her proceed to cover all uses of bitch (she currently has a limited vocabulary but we're sure that BSS can improve that) over half an hour we've determined her employability is nil and that we'll see her on the street soon.
Ever witness the devolution of a mutterer into an outright psycho? We bring you
EYE-WITNESS
Accompanying a friend to a burger joint renowned for its dollar menu, our eating of filth was disturbed by the buttocks of a muttering BSS member. Ignoring his proximity to another person he proceeded to unintelligibly read signs out loud. The muttering finally having its unsettling effect on us, we decided to adjourn to another table. Disturbingly he followed us, only a moment distracted by the tempting remains in a trash can, and sat down at a table next to us. Obviously hungry he began scavenging the remaining wrappers of earlier diners. In a effort to protect his food he was actively staring down anyone in the area who happened to look at him. An unfortunate student was asked if he could spare a sandwich proving that the mutterer had a full grasp of human language. Unable to participate in this any longer we left to go to the bar two doors down.
Having comfortably settled into our first drink we were appalled when the same BSS member saw us through the window and proceeded to enter the establishment. Casually sitting down at a table near us he looked over a menu and politely chatted with the waitress. We, however, were petrified with horror, sure he was pretending to play normal, but when would he crack? We didn't have to wait long, moments after the waitress stepped away he began rambling, "so you I'm crazy,huh,huh,crazy?You think I'm crazy, crazy crazy?" At this point we figured our evening out was at an end and asked for our tab. The BSS member gulped his drink like a dog in front of kibble and asked to start a tab. Astoundingly he produced a credit card when requested. After the waitress retreated with his card his attention was caught by a pack cha-bras (aka frat boy jocks) discussing in glowing terms the qualities of Irish women. No other word but swoop describes the way he invaded their table, miraculously appearing in their midst agreeing "Irish girls, yeah, irish girls." Cha-bras, deciding he was an unwelcome hallucination, completely ignored him. Taking a note from their book, the BSS member whipped out a cell phone, not bothering to dial, and began talking into it, while still at the other table. Speaking loudly, "Oh Jim, Jim, I'm at the bar! Yeah, yeah man, you should come down man, yeah yeah." At this point, unable to bear the insanity of it all in the face of social conventions, we reentered the night in hopes of disappearring from his presence forever.
Sightings -
Dr Bombay in all his pungency appears to insist on wearing every purchase he has ever made. The latest additions, some stunning turquoise blue fishnets and a blinking necklace. It is wondered by one of our correspondents whether he is planning a private stinky rave of his own.
A local BSS lady renowned for her ability to latch onto a person and pick them apart with her horredendous and terrible language, known as Evil Old Lady, was sighted pushing her granny cart down the street between sips of a bagged drink. She too, in a sign of solidarity, was muttering.
A BSS member was witnessed entering a store and began to stare at the wall. He did this for three minutes, not reacting to any enquiries before suddenly leaving again.
A BSS member known as Dreadful chose a doorway to begin his own muttering piece lasting a half an hour.
Ring Man was seen many times, most spectacularly on a street corner wearing pants on his head while turning circles in place.
Miss Poopy Pants was seen roaming the streets rapping to herself "that was nasty, that was nasty." It is hard to see how she could judge what is nasty, seeing her justified nickname.
Ads
For sale: one video. It's Paris Hilton. Yeah, she's sexy in it. Yeah, it's her all right. It's right here in my cart. Yeah, I've got it here. Come buy it.
Wanted - whatever you're reading. Wait is that a bible? Oh it's a magazine. Could I read it? No? Why not? Why are you telling me to leave?
Breaking news
Goddam this draft dodger war!
We bs correspondents were saddened this week not only by the continued absence of Manimal, but also by the tragedy of the Cowboy. The Cowboy and his dog are a constant presence downtown and are remarkable if only because they never panhandle, are really polite and keep mostly to themselves. This week the local constabulary decided to take the Cowboy's dog away and in her absence the Cowboy is noticably falling apart. Here's hoping the Cowboy will get his dog back. He really misses her and shame on the Berkeley constables for parting them.
We introduce a new Berkeley program sure to keep the streets full for decades. Bring your teenager to Berkeley for the BSS in training program! We witnessed a teen in training to be the next Evil Old Lady. We're positive she'll be perfect as we saw her rip into a gentle old woman by screaming "Bitch, you fuckin' bitch, Bitch." After watching her proceed to cover all uses of bitch (she currently has a limited vocabulary but we're sure that BSS can improve that) over half an hour we've determined her employability is nil and that we'll see her on the street soon.
Ever witness the devolution of a mutterer into an outright psycho? We bring you
EYE-WITNESS
Accompanying a friend to a burger joint renowned for its dollar menu, our eating of filth was disturbed by the buttocks of a muttering BSS member. Ignoring his proximity to another person he proceeded to unintelligibly read signs out loud. The muttering finally having its unsettling effect on us, we decided to adjourn to another table. Disturbingly he followed us, only a moment distracted by the tempting remains in a trash can, and sat down at a table next to us. Obviously hungry he began scavenging the remaining wrappers of earlier diners. In a effort to protect his food he was actively staring down anyone in the area who happened to look at him. An unfortunate student was asked if he could spare a sandwich proving that the mutterer had a full grasp of human language. Unable to participate in this any longer we left to go to the bar two doors down.
Having comfortably settled into our first drink we were appalled when the same BSS member saw us through the window and proceeded to enter the establishment. Casually sitting down at a table near us he looked over a menu and politely chatted with the waitress. We, however, were petrified with horror, sure he was pretending to play normal, but when would he crack? We didn't have to wait long, moments after the waitress stepped away he began rambling, "so you I'm crazy,huh,huh,crazy?You think I'm crazy, crazy crazy?" At this point we figured our evening out was at an end and asked for our tab. The BSS member gulped his drink like a dog in front of kibble and asked to start a tab. Astoundingly he produced a credit card when requested. After the waitress retreated with his card his attention was caught by a pack cha-bras (aka frat boy jocks) discussing in glowing terms the qualities of Irish women. No other word but swoop describes the way he invaded their table, miraculously appearing in their midst agreeing "Irish girls, yeah, irish girls." Cha-bras, deciding he was an unwelcome hallucination, completely ignored him. Taking a note from their book, the BSS member whipped out a cell phone, not bothering to dial, and began talking into it, while still at the other table. Speaking loudly, "Oh Jim, Jim, I'm at the bar! Yeah, yeah man, you should come down man, yeah yeah." At this point, unable to bear the insanity of it all in the face of social conventions, we reentered the night in hopes of disappearring from his presence forever.
Sightings -
Dr Bombay in all his pungency appears to insist on wearing every purchase he has ever made. The latest additions, some stunning turquoise blue fishnets and a blinking necklace. It is wondered by one of our correspondents whether he is planning a private stinky rave of his own.
A local BSS lady renowned for her ability to latch onto a person and pick them apart with her horredendous and terrible language, known as Evil Old Lady, was sighted pushing her granny cart down the street between sips of a bagged drink. She too, in a sign of solidarity, was muttering.
A BSS member was witnessed entering a store and began to stare at the wall. He did this for three minutes, not reacting to any enquiries before suddenly leaving again.
A BSS member known as Dreadful chose a doorway to begin his own muttering piece lasting a half an hour.
Ring Man was seen many times, most spectacularly on a street corner wearing pants on his head while turning circles in place.
Miss Poopy Pants was seen roaming the streets rapping to herself "that was nasty, that was nasty." It is hard to see how she could judge what is nasty, seeing her justified nickname.
Ads
For sale: one video. It's Paris Hilton. Yeah, she's sexy in it. Yeah, it's her all right. It's right here in my cart. Yeah, I've got it here. Come buy it.
Wanted - whatever you're reading. Wait is that a bible? Oh it's a magazine. Could I read it? No? Why not? Why are you telling me to leave?
Sunday, April 22, 2007
Scandal, no shit
Perhaps there is a general air of improvement downtown. The BSS members seem disheartened, as though the city they know is slowly but surely forcing them out with fines, tickets and general harassment. What will happen when the damaged get help and the bums find new places to sleep? Will you one day be able to walk down the length of Shattuck and not feel like you're running the change gauntlet?
Shopping cart train at the BofA circle
Let's circle up the carts and sit around the boom box playing funk music, and take you back to a time when men were men and not winos. Passing the bottle in the bag we sing sweet songs and laugh and yell comments at the young college women. All the busdrivers are your friends, the ivy behind you your bathroom and the rats an alternate food source. Nothing like a cold night with the boys with a tasty 40 in hand. By morning the train will have dispersed, each little urban schooner searching out its bottles and cans until evening falls and the circle is joined once again.
MANIMAL UPDATE!
We of the Berkeley Street Society regret to inform you that the Manimal has been incarcerated in a penal institution due to circumstances stemming from the fact that she was personally involved with the rubber-band shooting incident we mentioned last week. Our best wishes to her at this time and we hope to see her back on the streets soon, patrolling, accosting, and just being plain funny.
The wonder of just being in downtown Berkeley, where any normal day can turn into another mind scarring incident of city living. Our bs correspondents bring you another-
EYE-WITNESS ACCOUNT
Whilst partaking of some tasty nicotine a Berkeley Street Society member caught our attention. This might have been because this gentleman was dressed in more than three layers of clothing, many of which were too big for him. Also he was sporting size 4 women's pumps with his heels hanging off the ends. But apparently his strange appearance wasn't enough. He had to get some real attention. When he reached the corner,with no warning whatsover, he spontaneously started shedding clothes. Off came the giant jeans, followed by a pair of khakis, and after shedding a pair of Dickies work pants he stood revealed, bare to the world. Lifting up the shirts that kept his modesty he kicked off his pumps and began gyrating wildly, flopping his manroot at the innocent passengers in a car waiting for the green light. Yelling "you want to see? you want to see! You want some of this?!" he continued to dangle and shake his twig and berries. Having satisfied some inner longing, he stopped and methodically began putting his clothes back on. Then he tottered away down the street on his too-small pumps.
Breaking news!
Will all people named Duke Duke please stand up?
And now we add a new piece for the education of our readers:
HOW NOT TO GET A JOB
Let's say you want to get a job at a cool store in your area, and hey, you don't know if they're hiring but it wouldn't hurt to ask. First, it helps to be dressed for success. If you dress for the position, that impresses people. And maybe they don't have a job now but they're definitely going to keep you in mind for future job openings. This doesn't ALWAYS mean they're blowing you off, this may mean they're interested in getting more information first. So continuing to sell yourself by talking about yourself in glowing, ego-sating terms doesn't really help. It makes you come off as a first rate arrogant doofus. And if you're applying for a security position at this store, it really doesn't help you if you try to walk out the door with a bunch of their stuff, setting off the security alarm. Some might think they can recover the situation by claiming they forgot while still attempting to hide stuff in their plastic bag. And of course, offering to pay for it may seem to be the sincere thing to do. But, face it, you ain't getting the job if you just tried to walk out with $30 worth of stuff, try to hide some of the items, when you offer to pay your card is declined because you have no money, while still insisting that you're a stand-up guy who deserves a job. Yeah, we'll keep you in mind. You're on our Do Not Enter list now.
Sightings
Ms. Prune is shopping up a storm for spring. Every store downtown has been visited by the dainty crone who must be searching for bargains.
When a Berkeley Street Society member inquired a passerby about the possibility of spare change, the passerby replied, "no, thank you." The BSS member then yelled, "Thank me for what?" As the passerby quickly continued down the street and Bss member berated him from a distance. "No really, what are you thanking me for? You're the one not giving any fucking change!"
A block of Shattuck was privy to the debut of a new verbal art piece. It suddenly shattered the air as a BSS member began to yell and screech profanity laced with horror. Throwing himself into doorways he tried to protect himself from his demons but they followed him down the street.
Ring Man, who has been diligently panhandling for the last two weeks, decided to stop by a couple of stores to fulfill his special needs. He was overheard in the doorway of one business begging entrance to buy a blue ring because he was an Aquarius (favored by bums everywhere). Unfortunately they were out of that color.
Shopping cart train at the BofA circle
Let's circle up the carts and sit around the boom box playing funk music, and take you back to a time when men were men and not winos. Passing the bottle in the bag we sing sweet songs and laugh and yell comments at the young college women. All the busdrivers are your friends, the ivy behind you your bathroom and the rats an alternate food source. Nothing like a cold night with the boys with a tasty 40 in hand. By morning the train will have dispersed, each little urban schooner searching out its bottles and cans until evening falls and the circle is joined once again.
MANIMAL UPDATE!
We of the Berkeley Street Society regret to inform you that the Manimal has been incarcerated in a penal institution due to circumstances stemming from the fact that she was personally involved with the rubber-band shooting incident we mentioned last week. Our best wishes to her at this time and we hope to see her back on the streets soon, patrolling, accosting, and just being plain funny.
The wonder of just being in downtown Berkeley, where any normal day can turn into another mind scarring incident of city living. Our bs correspondents bring you another-
EYE-WITNESS ACCOUNT
Whilst partaking of some tasty nicotine a Berkeley Street Society member caught our attention. This might have been because this gentleman was dressed in more than three layers of clothing, many of which were too big for him. Also he was sporting size 4 women's pumps with his heels hanging off the ends. But apparently his strange appearance wasn't enough. He had to get some real attention. When he reached the corner,with no warning whatsover, he spontaneously started shedding clothes. Off came the giant jeans, followed by a pair of khakis, and after shedding a pair of Dickies work pants he stood revealed, bare to the world. Lifting up the shirts that kept his modesty he kicked off his pumps and began gyrating wildly, flopping his manroot at the innocent passengers in a car waiting for the green light. Yelling "you want to see? you want to see! You want some of this?!" he continued to dangle and shake his twig and berries. Having satisfied some inner longing, he stopped and methodically began putting his clothes back on. Then he tottered away down the street on his too-small pumps.
Breaking news!
Will all people named Duke Duke please stand up?
And now we add a new piece for the education of our readers:
HOW NOT TO GET A JOB
Let's say you want to get a job at a cool store in your area, and hey, you don't know if they're hiring but it wouldn't hurt to ask. First, it helps to be dressed for success. If you dress for the position, that impresses people. And maybe they don't have a job now but they're definitely going to keep you in mind for future job openings. This doesn't ALWAYS mean they're blowing you off, this may mean they're interested in getting more information first. So continuing to sell yourself by talking about yourself in glowing, ego-sating terms doesn't really help. It makes you come off as a first rate arrogant doofus. And if you're applying for a security position at this store, it really doesn't help you if you try to walk out the door with a bunch of their stuff, setting off the security alarm. Some might think they can recover the situation by claiming they forgot while still attempting to hide stuff in their plastic bag. And of course, offering to pay for it may seem to be the sincere thing to do. But, face it, you ain't getting the job if you just tried to walk out with $30 worth of stuff, try to hide some of the items, when you offer to pay your card is declined because you have no money, while still insisting that you're a stand-up guy who deserves a job. Yeah, we'll keep you in mind. You're on our Do Not Enter list now.
Sightings
Ms. Prune is shopping up a storm for spring. Every store downtown has been visited by the dainty crone who must be searching for bargains.
When a Berkeley Street Society member inquired a passerby about the possibility of spare change, the passerby replied, "no, thank you." The BSS member then yelled, "Thank me for what?" As the passerby quickly continued down the street and Bss member berated him from a distance. "No really, what are you thanking me for? You're the one not giving any fucking change!"
A block of Shattuck was privy to the debut of a new verbal art piece. It suddenly shattered the air as a BSS member began to yell and screech profanity laced with horror. Throwing himself into doorways he tried to protect himself from his demons but they followed him down the street.
Ring Man, who has been diligently panhandling for the last two weeks, decided to stop by a couple of stores to fulfill his special needs. He was overheard in the doorway of one business begging entrance to buy a blue ring because he was an Aquarius (favored by bums everywhere). Unfortunately they were out of that color.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Humanity and shit
Oh, the humanity featured on our pages, our beloved bread and butter of oddities, the Berkeley Street Society we are all members of. The stage of Berkeley is set and we are all players in constant search for plot and reason. Which brings us to our popular returning column this week, IN SEARCH OF A BATHROOM, pt 2, more tales from the Ross dressing room! Read on faithful subscriber!
It's been quiet since everyone joined together for hide and seek on April Fool's. The bum roundabout is still in effect and everyday a new face on a new block. We of the Berkeley Street Society column worry what will happen to Berkeley when all the people who make Berkeley great, those with vicious aggressive animals, those who shout and accost the meek guarding their change, and those who leave little brown presents(even though it's little late for Easter)are pushed into moving on. But we're not here to pontificate or editorialize. We can't solve Berkeley's problems anymore than we can remember to take the trash out twice a week! So, onto the things in the life we can deal with, that are familiar, the shit, so to speak.
Shit Spotting:
Hoping to mail a letter? Watch where you step as there is a choice pile sitting directly in front of one of the astromech droid decorated boxes. Drenched by the morning deluge, a fecal river was winding its way down the sidewalk, ready for unobservant feet. Observed later that day, it had metamorphosed, alike a line of coke, into a long shitty line carefully tapered at the ends. We applaud the unknown
artist's hand that reconfigured the worst aspect of Berkeley into such gentle work.
Breaking news:
Nothing is funnier than wiener dogs in sweaters!
What to do when even the Starbucks downtown doesn't offer a public restroom? You hear stories like these, compiled from the memories of our favorite bs correspondent, it's:
IN SEARCH OF A BATHROOM, part 2
It was a quiet morning, my co-worker and I were chatting, blah-blah, when running towards us at full speed was a frantic woman! Her face was definitely contorted in such a way to suggest that she was about to start crying. "A bathroom! I need a bathroom!" she wailed. "God help me!"
My co-worker and I were floored. We didn't know what to do, and reading our facial expressions a wave of despair crossed her face.She spun on her heel and started running. Like it was only yesterday, I recall the way her heel lifted and something just flew out of the bottom of her pants leg landing with an audible plop. A carcass smell was suddenly noticeable as the woman quickly made her way back through the store, a long trail of unspeakable filth in her wake. "Oh my God!" My co-worker screamed and pointed. "She's shitting! She's shitting! She's shitting!"
I could only assume she had eaten at one of the poisoned take-out restaurants on Shattuck.
Our latest piece of carefully crafted true crime, reported by admiring bs correspondents who were, by luck, on the scene. We bring you:
MANIMAL's VENDETTA!
Impoverished people who stop on the street for longer than five seconds automatically become the target of: the MANIMAL!!
Lunging from its dark lair, MANIMAL confidently stalks her prey. Her latest victim, a small crazed woman, known as the "Eat My Twat" lady for her cries when being entangled with the local constabulary, was quietly reading a newspaper in the sun while drinking her coffee. Alas she was within the range of MANIMAL, by reading on the newspaper bin itself, and so was a prime target for removal, a favorite task of our self-appointed security chief.
"You need to be moving along now, you can't be loitering here," Manimal informed her. Like a viper striking from its nest, EMT lady turned and directly unleashed a case verbal whoop-ass in her direction. Her face was so close to her aggressor that we're assured she could feel Manimal's mustache bristling her face.EMT lady didn't hesitate to inform her opponent of how ugly was and how she did seem exceedingly masculine. Manimal became infuriated, her face flushed with hatred and passionate anger, as nothing so rouses her ire as being told her appearance is that of a man's (assuming, of course, that she is a woman, thus her moniker, MANIMAL). Bellowing with rage, Manimal retreated, taking the stairs two at a time, in her eagerness to inform the constabulary of this latest affront.
Approximately six hours later, EMT lady reappeared on the street, obviously not fazed by her earlier altercation. Discussing McDonald's food in glowing terms with a unknown crackhead, when suddenly the conversation turned hostile. "Take your hands off me!" she proclaimed. "Don't ever touch me like that again!" One would assume it was the crackhead who was the assailant, but no, it was the return of MANIMAL! This was confirmed by the derogatory comments of EMT lady who repeated her requests to be left alone, between shouts of "you're ugly and you have a penis!" This second assault to Manimal's androgyny enraged her, causing her to yell for a phone to call the constables. In the confusion, EMT lady quietly walked off for dinner at McDonald's, allowing Manimal's authority to remain unquestioned once more.
Sighting:
A Berkeley Street Society member was heard loudly complaining that someone was shooting rubber bands at him from an upper story window. Constables investigated and interrogated the suspect.
Dr. Bombay, a bit more pungent of cat box odor than usual,was spotted perusing a gaudy ring selection downtown. He was later seen wearing ridiculously oversized green Nike sneakers, delicately applied pink and purple blush and no less than three gaudy rings that carefully accented his attire. There was also a large wet stain on the front of his pants that we leave up to the reader's imagination.
Want ads:
Wanted: an alarm system that prevents people who are under the age of 18 from entering. Even better, one that prevents people from walking in while talking on their cell phone. pls reply 242
Looking for change. Gimme a quarter. Maybe a dime? I know you got a nickel. Pennies? Pennies is shit! I don't got no time for pennies! What? No change! Fuck you, no change! I mean it, fuck you!
It's been quiet since everyone joined together for hide and seek on April Fool's. The bum roundabout is still in effect and everyday a new face on a new block. We of the Berkeley Street Society column worry what will happen to Berkeley when all the people who make Berkeley great, those with vicious aggressive animals, those who shout and accost the meek guarding their change, and those who leave little brown presents(even though it's little late for Easter)are pushed into moving on. But we're not here to pontificate or editorialize. We can't solve Berkeley's problems anymore than we can remember to take the trash out twice a week! So, onto the things in the life we can deal with, that are familiar, the shit, so to speak.
Shit Spotting:
Hoping to mail a letter? Watch where you step as there is a choice pile sitting directly in front of one of the astromech droid decorated boxes. Drenched by the morning deluge, a fecal river was winding its way down the sidewalk, ready for unobservant feet. Observed later that day, it had metamorphosed, alike a line of coke, into a long shitty line carefully tapered at the ends. We applaud the unknown
artist's hand that reconfigured the worst aspect of Berkeley into such gentle work.
Breaking news:
Nothing is funnier than wiener dogs in sweaters!
What to do when even the Starbucks downtown doesn't offer a public restroom? You hear stories like these, compiled from the memories of our favorite bs correspondent, it's:
IN SEARCH OF A BATHROOM, part 2
It was a quiet morning, my co-worker and I were chatting, blah-blah, when running towards us at full speed was a frantic woman! Her face was definitely contorted in such a way to suggest that she was about to start crying. "A bathroom! I need a bathroom!" she wailed. "God help me!"
My co-worker and I were floored. We didn't know what to do, and reading our facial expressions a wave of despair crossed her face.She spun on her heel and started running. Like it was only yesterday, I recall the way her heel lifted and something just flew out of the bottom of her pants leg landing with an audible plop. A carcass smell was suddenly noticeable as the woman quickly made her way back through the store, a long trail of unspeakable filth in her wake. "Oh my God!" My co-worker screamed and pointed. "She's shitting! She's shitting! She's shitting!"
I could only assume she had eaten at one of the poisoned take-out restaurants on Shattuck.
Our latest piece of carefully crafted true crime, reported by admiring bs correspondents who were, by luck, on the scene. We bring you:
MANIMAL's VENDETTA!
Impoverished people who stop on the street for longer than five seconds automatically become the target of: the MANIMAL!!
Lunging from its dark lair, MANIMAL confidently stalks her prey. Her latest victim, a small crazed woman, known as the "Eat My Twat" lady for her cries when being entangled with the local constabulary, was quietly reading a newspaper in the sun while drinking her coffee. Alas she was within the range of MANIMAL, by reading on the newspaper bin itself, and so was a prime target for removal, a favorite task of our self-appointed security chief.
"You need to be moving along now, you can't be loitering here," Manimal informed her. Like a viper striking from its nest, EMT lady turned and directly unleashed a case verbal whoop-ass in her direction. Her face was so close to her aggressor that we're assured she could feel Manimal's mustache bristling her face.EMT lady didn't hesitate to inform her opponent of how ugly was and how she did seem exceedingly masculine. Manimal became infuriated, her face flushed with hatred and passionate anger, as nothing so rouses her ire as being told her appearance is that of a man's (assuming, of course, that she is a woman, thus her moniker, MANIMAL). Bellowing with rage, Manimal retreated, taking the stairs two at a time, in her eagerness to inform the constabulary of this latest affront.
Approximately six hours later, EMT lady reappeared on the street, obviously not fazed by her earlier altercation. Discussing McDonald's food in glowing terms with a unknown crackhead, when suddenly the conversation turned hostile. "Take your hands off me!" she proclaimed. "Don't ever touch me like that again!" One would assume it was the crackhead who was the assailant, but no, it was the return of MANIMAL! This was confirmed by the derogatory comments of EMT lady who repeated her requests to be left alone, between shouts of "you're ugly and you have a penis!" This second assault to Manimal's androgyny enraged her, causing her to yell for a phone to call the constables. In the confusion, EMT lady quietly walked off for dinner at McDonald's, allowing Manimal's authority to remain unquestioned once more.
Sighting:
A Berkeley Street Society member was heard loudly complaining that someone was shooting rubber bands at him from an upper story window. Constables investigated and interrogated the suspect.
Dr. Bombay, a bit more pungent of cat box odor than usual,was spotted perusing a gaudy ring selection downtown. He was later seen wearing ridiculously oversized green Nike sneakers, delicately applied pink and purple blush and no less than three gaudy rings that carefully accented his attire. There was also a large wet stain on the front of his pants that we leave up to the reader's imagination.
Want ads:
Wanted: an alarm system that prevents people who are under the age of 18 from entering. Even better, one that prevents people from walking in while talking on their cell phone. pls reply 242
Looking for change. Gimme a quarter. Maybe a dime? I know you got a nickel. Pennies? Pennies is shit! I don't got no time for pennies! What? No change! Fuck you, no change! I mean it, fuck you!
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Shit, shit and more shit
Welcome gentle subscribers to this week's edition of the Berkeley Street Society column! We have some wonderful pieces for you this week, thoughtfully collected by our growing network of bs correspondents and we are excited to debut a new Travel section. Read on and enjoy.
If you didn't recognize downtown Berkeley this weekend, it might have been because of the veritable dearth of panhandlers and other members of Berkeley Street Society. Well, you may ask, where has everyone gone? We here feel proud to present you with exclusive information - Happy April Fool's Day! Members of Berkeley Street Society, under latest policy, were told in the spirit of the holiday, an all city encompassing game of hide and go seek was to be played! All members were kind enough to contribute and hid accordingly, but for some reason or another, the all clear hasn't been sounded yet! So until the local constibulary recalls to yell Ollie ollie oxen-free, we're stuck with bare pavement as far as the eye can see and left to accumulate record amounts of pocket change. We hope your pockets have reinforced seams.
Shit Spotting -
A loyal bs correspondent informed us she was struck with a blinding assault on the senses during a walk. What appeared to be an average white t-shirt hanging on a fence turned foul when it was discovered that the apparently well-bleached and clean shirt's other side was profusely smeared with excrement. Why it was hanging on a fence for all to view is not known, but it is suspected that it was an artist's statement about humanity.
For those who enjoy tales of horror and are strong of stomach we offer a new series:
IN SEARCH OF A BATHROOM, stories from the downtown Ross dressing rooms
One of our faithful bs correspondents shares tales about her time as the dressing room attendent at the downtown Berkeley Ross discount department store:
I think the most horrifying experience I had at Ross was the makeup case. Generally the case in question was a travel size case, the type that unzips into two or more zipper compartments. We sold tons of them, but some of them met a terrible fate.
My co-worker and I would be standing around, racking up unwanted items, when we would smell something, let us say,UNHOLY. Knowing something was wrong we would dare each other to investigate. Opening the doors, like a game of Russian Roulette, we would finally uncover the culprit, or what the culprit had left behind...
My brave co-worker, so brave, so brave she was, to enter this place and find the innoceous makeup case and she actually unzipped it. Bravery in the line of fire, that was what it was, for afterward there was screaming and laughing and flipping out and then screaming some more. We gagged and nearly threw up, we couldn't believe someone had copped a squat and then zipped it back up. It was liquidy, purely vile and chunky and just - shitty. Imagine having to call one of the managers back to the fitting room to explain to him that some nasty bitch shit in one of the travel bags that we sold. We should note, like the sidewalk shitters outside, there was no evidence of wiping material.
Travel -
In the historic North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco, other Street Societies are waiting to be explored. While enjoying your coffee you will be treated to a view of another cafe patron being assaulted by a flailing Street Society member. When shouted down by other patrons, the assault ends quickly and the member jerkily stalks off, perhaps intending to find easier prey or perhaps to wrestle less physical demons. Conversation turns to the incident and it is revealed that the society member is known to scream at odd hours in the morning until "someone tells him to shut up."
San Francisco is an environment known to have various Street Societies, the largest of which is based downtown on Market Street. We welcome you to treat yourself for a day by exploring the Embarcadero, the beautiful new Ferry Building filled with tasty (and expensive) comestibles and the waterfront. With luck, you may see one of the regular Street Society members there, a gentlemen known to solicit monetary accolades for his stunning performance, titled "Just a nickel and a smile will last a long while," and his more lengthy street theater piece, "Can somebody help me? I'm trying to get inebriated! They say honesty is the best policy and I'm tired of lying about cheeseburgers I never buy."
Sightings:
Omar Perro was up early on Sunday morning collecting Sunday newspaper editions. Chipper as always he insisted on saying Hello to everyone in his immediate vicinity. Never one to be set back by a lack of eye contact or oncoming traffic, Omar Perro excitedly waved hello to everybody before attempting to gain entrance to a business.
The Pumpkin Lady was seen exhibiting a shiny red bead necklace adorned with plastic chili peppers, a new addition to her spring wardrobe, notably moving from her favored gourd to the spicy fleshyness of fruit.
The Ring Man was sighted twice this week, once in search of the most popular item this season with all bums, the gaudy ring. He was also spotted attempting to take liberties with the change of customers trying to enter and exit a local bookstore.
A gentleman who has been described to us as the Shamrock man has made his inconsitent round recently to stock up on shamrock stickers. He has been known to proudly affix them to his clothing before setting out for destinations unknown. Whether for the gentlman is it a personal talisman of sorts or perhaps a totem of some kind, is left to our readers to consider.
A lady we shall call YWCA, having quite possibly vacated such an organization and having with her various personal items such as a pillow , dallied with a downtown resident to notable acclaim. With a opening riposte of "hey there, MR. Security Guard," heady words were exchanged, offense having been greatly taken by Manimal, to whom the remarks had been intended. However YWCA was genteel enough to step away on an afternoon promenade when Manimal showed intentions of involving the constables.
Berkeley Street Society presents the second in our series of imaginary battles (reminding all that the bs correspondents have way too much time on their hands sometimes). Join us this week in imagining a place in which descrepit female skinflints sneak from their mansions and apartment complexs to work the streets exchanging their carefully crafted pathetic greetings for pocket change:
it's BAG LADY RUMBLE!
Mrs. Prune vs. the "blind" lady
Mrs. Prune doesn't wait to trade blistering epithets, she throws her giant purse into the kidney of her opponent while simultaniously burning her in the eye with her lit Virginia Slim cigarette. Who knew that this tiny crone had so much power in her? But wait, the "blind" lady is back and retatliates by beating Mrs Prune about the head and shoulders with her cane (untipped and fully extended). Mrs. Prune bows under the blows and when she looks up for mercy her face meets with the harsh rain of pennies thrown by her opponent. With a scream of "stay away from me," Mrs. Prune unveils her most fierce weapon, biological warfare of the meanest type, she raises her skirt in meaningful defiance. The "blind" lady is taken aback, assaulted by a putridness beyond description, this dirty fight has gotten undescribably rotten. Gasping for breath, the "blind" lady runs, joined by everyone in the immediate vicinity outside the local coffee bar. In the train station underground, station operators suddenly wonder if sewage is seeping into the tunnels again.
The fight is Mrs. Prune. We salute you.
Want Ads
Wanted: brains. Nice drippy gooey brains. Lots of fluids preferred. pls respond in person.
Thank you for joining us in our crude revelling in the little things that Berkeley is known for. We are gratified by your attention.
If you didn't recognize downtown Berkeley this weekend, it might have been because of the veritable dearth of panhandlers and other members of Berkeley Street Society. Well, you may ask, where has everyone gone? We here feel proud to present you with exclusive information - Happy April Fool's Day! Members of Berkeley Street Society, under latest policy, were told in the spirit of the holiday, an all city encompassing game of hide and go seek was to be played! All members were kind enough to contribute and hid accordingly, but for some reason or another, the all clear hasn't been sounded yet! So until the local constibulary recalls to yell Ollie ollie oxen-free, we're stuck with bare pavement as far as the eye can see and left to accumulate record amounts of pocket change. We hope your pockets have reinforced seams.
Shit Spotting -
A loyal bs correspondent informed us she was struck with a blinding assault on the senses during a walk. What appeared to be an average white t-shirt hanging on a fence turned foul when it was discovered that the apparently well-bleached and clean shirt's other side was profusely smeared with excrement. Why it was hanging on a fence for all to view is not known, but it is suspected that it was an artist's statement about humanity.
For those who enjoy tales of horror and are strong of stomach we offer a new series:
IN SEARCH OF A BATHROOM, stories from the downtown Ross dressing rooms
One of our faithful bs correspondents shares tales about her time as the dressing room attendent at the downtown Berkeley Ross discount department store:
I think the most horrifying experience I had at Ross was the makeup case. Generally the case in question was a travel size case, the type that unzips into two or more zipper compartments. We sold tons of them, but some of them met a terrible fate.
My co-worker and I would be standing around, racking up unwanted items, when we would smell something, let us say,UNHOLY. Knowing something was wrong we would dare each other to investigate. Opening the doors, like a game of Russian Roulette, we would finally uncover the culprit, or what the culprit had left behind...
My brave co-worker, so brave, so brave she was, to enter this place and find the innoceous makeup case and she actually unzipped it. Bravery in the line of fire, that was what it was, for afterward there was screaming and laughing and flipping out and then screaming some more. We gagged and nearly threw up, we couldn't believe someone had copped a squat and then zipped it back up. It was liquidy, purely vile and chunky and just - shitty. Imagine having to call one of the managers back to the fitting room to explain to him that some nasty bitch shit in one of the travel bags that we sold. We should note, like the sidewalk shitters outside, there was no evidence of wiping material.
Travel -
In the historic North Beach neighborhood of San Francisco, other Street Societies are waiting to be explored. While enjoying your coffee you will be treated to a view of another cafe patron being assaulted by a flailing Street Society member. When shouted down by other patrons, the assault ends quickly and the member jerkily stalks off, perhaps intending to find easier prey or perhaps to wrestle less physical demons. Conversation turns to the incident and it is revealed that the society member is known to scream at odd hours in the morning until "someone tells him to shut up."
San Francisco is an environment known to have various Street Societies, the largest of which is based downtown on Market Street. We welcome you to treat yourself for a day by exploring the Embarcadero, the beautiful new Ferry Building filled with tasty (and expensive) comestibles and the waterfront. With luck, you may see one of the regular Street Society members there, a gentlemen known to solicit monetary accolades for his stunning performance, titled "Just a nickel and a smile will last a long while," and his more lengthy street theater piece, "Can somebody help me? I'm trying to get inebriated! They say honesty is the best policy and I'm tired of lying about cheeseburgers I never buy."
Sightings:
Omar Perro was up early on Sunday morning collecting Sunday newspaper editions. Chipper as always he insisted on saying Hello to everyone in his immediate vicinity. Never one to be set back by a lack of eye contact or oncoming traffic, Omar Perro excitedly waved hello to everybody before attempting to gain entrance to a business.
The Pumpkin Lady was seen exhibiting a shiny red bead necklace adorned with plastic chili peppers, a new addition to her spring wardrobe, notably moving from her favored gourd to the spicy fleshyness of fruit.
The Ring Man was sighted twice this week, once in search of the most popular item this season with all bums, the gaudy ring. He was also spotted attempting to take liberties with the change of customers trying to enter and exit a local bookstore.
A gentleman who has been described to us as the Shamrock man has made his inconsitent round recently to stock up on shamrock stickers. He has been known to proudly affix them to his clothing before setting out for destinations unknown. Whether for the gentlman is it a personal talisman of sorts or perhaps a totem of some kind, is left to our readers to consider.
A lady we shall call YWCA, having quite possibly vacated such an organization and having with her various personal items such as a pillow , dallied with a downtown resident to notable acclaim. With a opening riposte of "hey there, MR. Security Guard," heady words were exchanged, offense having been greatly taken by Manimal, to whom the remarks had been intended. However YWCA was genteel enough to step away on an afternoon promenade when Manimal showed intentions of involving the constables.
Berkeley Street Society presents the second in our series of imaginary battles (reminding all that the bs correspondents have way too much time on their hands sometimes). Join us this week in imagining a place in which descrepit female skinflints sneak from their mansions and apartment complexs to work the streets exchanging their carefully crafted pathetic greetings for pocket change:
it's BAG LADY RUMBLE!
Mrs. Prune vs. the "blind" lady
Mrs. Prune doesn't wait to trade blistering epithets, she throws her giant purse into the kidney of her opponent while simultaniously burning her in the eye with her lit Virginia Slim cigarette. Who knew that this tiny crone had so much power in her? But wait, the "blind" lady is back and retatliates by beating Mrs Prune about the head and shoulders with her cane (untipped and fully extended). Mrs. Prune bows under the blows and when she looks up for mercy her face meets with the harsh rain of pennies thrown by her opponent. With a scream of "stay away from me," Mrs. Prune unveils her most fierce weapon, biological warfare of the meanest type, she raises her skirt in meaningful defiance. The "blind" lady is taken aback, assaulted by a putridness beyond description, this dirty fight has gotten undescribably rotten. Gasping for breath, the "blind" lady runs, joined by everyone in the immediate vicinity outside the local coffee bar. In the train station underground, station operators suddenly wonder if sewage is seeping into the tunnels again.
The fight is Mrs. Prune. We salute you.
Want Ads
Wanted: brains. Nice drippy gooey brains. Lots of fluids preferred. pls respond in person.
Thank you for joining us in our crude revelling in the little things that Berkeley is known for. We are gratified by your attention.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Human or animal,a guide to the shit of Berkeley
To start our week off properly two members of the local temperance league and voluntary vagrant charm school dropped by to lecture us on the evils that cause bedlam in our street society. After taking prodigious notes from our experiences and sharing their literature and message, they went off to campaign up on Telegraph, god save them.
A fascinating phenomenon is occurring as we speak on the streets of Berkeley, one I suggest everyone view, the Bum Roundabout! As a result of new city policies regarding loitering, members of the Berkeley Street Society have taken to circulating in a frequent if irregular pattern through Berkeley. This policy helps freshen the local performances and regulars in your neighborhood by ensuring that a constant parade of new faces will be greeting you. Please take the time to greet these new additions, as they are not always in the best of spirits (even when full of them) and we're sure you'll be rewarded for your effort.
Breaking news:
Everyone in Berkeley has chips in their heads that communicate with space!
Sightings:
- A gentleman known to us as Chainsaw Asshole was spotted at the downtown Farmer's Market sharing his latest spoken word piece, this one regarding equine genitalia and female canines, focusing his performance at elderly women accumulating their weekly stock of peaches and rhubarb.
- Recently released, a woman we are tentatively referring to as Need for Speed proceeded to hector a fellow companion with colorful phrases until she was visited by members of the constabulary. Realizing that her companion has disappeared, Need for Speed began a stunning performance of verbal wordplay with some residents of the area.
Public interest:
The former Eddie Bauer is presenting a very familiar odor this week for the pleasure of all Berkeley residents. Please walk by during the hours when sun hits directly for the full experience. We're sure the effect has been the contribution of members of Berkeley Street Society.
For the pleasure of our subscribers, this week we include an informative essay by one of our esteemed bs correspondents about a subject often found stuck to the bottom of our shoes, may I present:
HUMAN or ANIMAL, A GUIDE to the SHIT of BERKELEY
It has happened to all of us. You're walking to work and it's a beautiful day. The sun is shining, the weather is sweet,then suddenly out of nowhere a putrid smell emerges... Behold!! A ginormous pile of shit!! Judging by the long skid marks left behind on the sidewalk you're not the only unfortunate soul that has encountered this poorly placed excrement. You resist the urge to vomit and hurry on your way, your day fucked up beyond repair. If you live and/or work in Berkeley, this is practically a everyday occurrence. All you out there know what the fuck I'm talking about.
Anyways, here are some basic steps you can follow to determine the origins of the pile. If the shit is human, it will usually be close to a building or wall. More than likely there will be no evidence of toilet paper or other wiping material. Sidewalk shitters rarely care about wiping their ass. If the pile in question came from a dog or other animal, it will usually be in the center of the sidewalk with blatant disregard for passing pedestrians. Simple huh? Please use this knowledge however you see fit. Oh yeah, if you determine that the pile is in fact human, there is a 75% chance that it came from the ass of an infamous local known as Ms.Poopie Pants (especially in the vicinity of Shattuck).
Public viewings are available anytime anywhere downtown.
Next week, join us for more on this subject and the history of creative solutions to the lack of public bathroom facilities downtown, including a stunning eyewitness account.
Want ads:
Interested in paying in installments for a 18th birthday card totalling $2.54 with tax. Any offers must not include interest over time. reply 243
Wanted: time. The correct time, not your time but my time which is now your time you understand so don't waste my time with your time because you know i'm right the government agrees with me i called and my time is government time so your time is no time so there! message 687
For sale:
Metro PCS phone. Naw, it's not stolen or nothin' I'm just sellin' it see? You want it? I can sell it to you cheap. Contact 666
Promotional advertisement:
SATURDAY, SATURDAY, SATURDAY
You know you want to see it, but who wants to wait for it?
Imagine with me: The TAG TEAM BERKELEY STREET SOCIETY SLAPDOWN!
Featuring: MANIMAL, the SHE-MALE of SHATTUCK versus the TINY TITAN
of MULLET-ACTIVATED AGGRESSION: NEED FOR SPEED!
and: VIVA BUSH, BIGOT and BASTION of CONSERVATIVE IDEALS versus
the DOWNTOWN COMMUNITY POWERHOUSE with a ROUNDHOUSE, the QUEEN OF CAL!
A fascinating phenomenon is occurring as we speak on the streets of Berkeley, one I suggest everyone view, the Bum Roundabout! As a result of new city policies regarding loitering, members of the Berkeley Street Society have taken to circulating in a frequent if irregular pattern through Berkeley. This policy helps freshen the local performances and regulars in your neighborhood by ensuring that a constant parade of new faces will be greeting you. Please take the time to greet these new additions, as they are not always in the best of spirits (even when full of them) and we're sure you'll be rewarded for your effort.
Breaking news:
Everyone in Berkeley has chips in their heads that communicate with space!
Sightings:
- A gentleman known to us as Chainsaw Asshole was spotted at the downtown Farmer's Market sharing his latest spoken word piece, this one regarding equine genitalia and female canines, focusing his performance at elderly women accumulating their weekly stock of peaches and rhubarb.
- Recently released, a woman we are tentatively referring to as Need for Speed proceeded to hector a fellow companion with colorful phrases until she was visited by members of the constabulary. Realizing that her companion has disappeared, Need for Speed began a stunning performance of verbal wordplay with some residents of the area.
Public interest:
The former Eddie Bauer is presenting a very familiar odor this week for the pleasure of all Berkeley residents. Please walk by during the hours when sun hits directly for the full experience. We're sure the effect has been the contribution of members of Berkeley Street Society.
For the pleasure of our subscribers, this week we include an informative essay by one of our esteemed bs correspondents about a subject often found stuck to the bottom of our shoes, may I present:
HUMAN or ANIMAL, A GUIDE to the SHIT of BERKELEY
It has happened to all of us. You're walking to work and it's a beautiful day. The sun is shining, the weather is sweet,then suddenly out of nowhere a putrid smell emerges... Behold!! A ginormous pile of shit!! Judging by the long skid marks left behind on the sidewalk you're not the only unfortunate soul that has encountered this poorly placed excrement. You resist the urge to vomit and hurry on your way, your day fucked up beyond repair. If you live and/or work in Berkeley, this is practically a everyday occurrence. All you out there know what the fuck I'm talking about.
Anyways, here are some basic steps you can follow to determine the origins of the pile. If the shit is human, it will usually be close to a building or wall. More than likely there will be no evidence of toilet paper or other wiping material. Sidewalk shitters rarely care about wiping their ass. If the pile in question came from a dog or other animal, it will usually be in the center of the sidewalk with blatant disregard for passing pedestrians. Simple huh? Please use this knowledge however you see fit. Oh yeah, if you determine that the pile is in fact human, there is a 75% chance that it came from the ass of an infamous local known as Ms.Poopie Pants (especially in the vicinity of Shattuck).
Public viewings are available anytime anywhere downtown.
Next week, join us for more on this subject and the history of creative solutions to the lack of public bathroom facilities downtown, including a stunning eyewitness account.
Want ads:
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Wanted: time. The correct time, not your time but my time which is now your time you understand so don't waste my time with your time because you know i'm right the government agrees with me i called and my time is government time so your time is no time so there! message 687
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Metro PCS phone. Naw, it's not stolen or nothin' I'm just sellin' it see? You want it? I can sell it to you cheap. Contact 666
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SATURDAY, SATURDAY, SATURDAY
You know you want to see it, but who wants to wait for it?
Imagine with me: The TAG TEAM BERKELEY STREET SOCIETY SLAPDOWN!
Featuring: MANIMAL, the SHE-MALE of SHATTUCK versus the TINY TITAN
of MULLET-ACTIVATED AGGRESSION: NEED FOR SPEED!
and: VIVA BUSH, BIGOT and BASTION of CONSERVATIVE IDEALS versus
the DOWNTOWN COMMUNITY POWERHOUSE with a ROUNDHOUSE, the QUEEN OF CAL!
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Spring is in the air, volume 5, issue 24 (unless we're making this up)
This week the local constabulary has decided to confront the vagrants that gather to give our lonely pocket change new purpose. Does this bode ill for the future of our beloved street society?
Sightings:
- the Schizo (also known as the Price Check lady) charmed passerby by alternately sunning herself and scowling in front of Starbucks. It should be noted that she was wearing her stylish knitted cap.
- Since of the removal of anti-bush items from the window of a certain store, Viva Bush has moved on to greener pastures, to share his conservative message with the weak minded elsewhere.
- the Pumpkin Lady was seen in the companionship of an unnamed gentlemen across from Downtown restaurant. Could there be love in the air?
Near miss:
Omar Perro happily dodged a turning car in a crosswalk causing a bicyclist, who was also delayed by this passage, to yell, "we haven't got all day Omar!" Omar Perro then offered to high five the bicyclist.
Observed:
Seen practicing her newest experimental vocal piece, a local artist walked the streets suddenly emitting high pitched screams and moans for an hour for the pleasure of the lunch crowd.
Style section:
If you are still waiting for the hot item of the Spring Street fashion season, then wait no longer! Big gaudy colorful rings for men are IN this season with every bum scrambling to shove one over his swollen gloved knuckle! Doesn't matter how many, doesn't matter if you haven't bathed since the last rain, you must accessorize now! And brightly colored wigs are a new trend for those who are just a bit compulsive or under the influence of some eye dilating accessory to your body chemistry. Short or long, perhaps it's time to find the color right for you!
Want ads:
Calendars. Why we want them three months after the turn of the year is not important. We want calendars, any type or kind that has been heavily discounted and is in the remainder bin for 2007. Please respond 989
Sightings:
- the Schizo (also known as the Price Check lady) charmed passerby by alternately sunning herself and scowling in front of Starbucks. It should be noted that she was wearing her stylish knitted cap.
- Since of the removal of anti-bush items from the window of a certain store, Viva Bush has moved on to greener pastures, to share his conservative message with the weak minded elsewhere.
- the Pumpkin Lady was seen in the companionship of an unnamed gentlemen across from Downtown restaurant. Could there be love in the air?
Near miss:
Omar Perro happily dodged a turning car in a crosswalk causing a bicyclist, who was also delayed by this passage, to yell, "we haven't got all day Omar!" Omar Perro then offered to high five the bicyclist.
Observed:
Seen practicing her newest experimental vocal piece, a local artist walked the streets suddenly emitting high pitched screams and moans for an hour for the pleasure of the lunch crowd.
Style section:
If you are still waiting for the hot item of the Spring Street fashion season, then wait no longer! Big gaudy colorful rings for men are IN this season with every bum scrambling to shove one over his swollen gloved knuckle! Doesn't matter how many, doesn't matter if you haven't bathed since the last rain, you must accessorize now! And brightly colored wigs are a new trend for those who are just a bit compulsive or under the influence of some eye dilating accessory to your body chemistry. Short or long, perhaps it's time to find the color right for you!
Want ads:
Calendars. Why we want them three months after the turn of the year is not important. We want calendars, any type or kind that has been heavily discounted and is in the remainder bin for 2007. Please respond 989
#1 collector's item See how it all began This is it!
Moved:
Miss Poopie Pants (well known for her perfection in the arts of public urination and defecation) has left her winter residence, now a gated community - to retreat to her summer abode, spending her days on the sunny benches of the Circle.
A new arrival:
Please extend our friendly greetings to a new potent member of Berkeley Street Society - you many have seen him around town embellished by a stylish wig and several glamorous rings.
Want ads:
looking for a good pair of dentures. Not interested in vampire fangs. Willing to pay $10. call 456
not quite sure what I'm looking for. I don't know if I have any money. But I know I want something. Call 344
Miss Poopie Pants (well known for her perfection in the arts of public urination and defecation) has left her winter residence, now a gated community - to retreat to her summer abode, spending her days on the sunny benches of the Circle.
A new arrival:
Please extend our friendly greetings to a new potent member of Berkeley Street Society - you many have seen him around town embellished by a stylish wig and several glamorous rings.
Want ads:
looking for a good pair of dentures. Not interested in vampire fangs. Willing to pay $10. call 456
not quite sure what I'm looking for. I don't know if I have any money. But I know I want something. Call 344
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