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?
Sunday, April 29, 2007
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)