Toph Speaks

There’s literally nothing better than summer in San Francisco. Growing up in Dallas, I began to hate summer. Well, hate is a strong word, but let’s say that unless you’re in a pool surround by chicks in bikinis it’s just not worth it. Wow, why would I ever say that I hate that? Okay, let’s strike that from the record and start over. Crap, now I don’t even know where to begin. The only things I can think about are chicks in bikinis. So, nothing beats Dallas in summer, but San Francisco comes awfully close. There’s a distinct difference between the two, however. In Dallas, summer begins in April and ends in October. It’s awfully long, and gets ridiculously repetitive. I’ve often preached that the key to successful summers is being as single as can be, and I stand behind that 100%, despite the impending marriage of La Diabla and myself. There’s nothing better than meeting a chick at a pool, and going to her house while she’s still in the bikini to have the sex. If you’re lucky she’ll have a little skirt to cover, and that is nice. This is not at all what I wanted to write about, but my fingers are going out of control. It’s like I’m fingerbanging my keyboard, and I can’t stop.

So, there’s one thing better than summers in San Francisco, but for the sake of this blog we’re not discussing it. San Francisco is a wonderful summer city, if you can catch it. The weather is often changing, so in order to get the goods you have to get in early and get in often. You never know, it could be 80 degrees in the day, and 50 degrees at night. What makes it great is that the ladies skin is so sheltered from the sun all the time that once summer arrives they throw their clothes off in droves. It’s like suddenly they start stripping outside of the cable car. Well, it’s not like that at all. They actually do start stripping in front of the cable car. I witnessed that today, and it was only 70 degrees. Actually, that’s hot for SF. They toss their coats, pants, and scarves into the wind and frolic like a son of a beyotch. It’s nice. Gentleman, San Francisco is in heat. It just happens, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. It’s like high school in the streets of San Francisco. Don’t believe me? Check out these photos. In my opinion, Bay to Breakers kicks off the sex season for The City. As soon as we approached B2B last weekend La Diabla was in heat, just like the rest of them, and this is the first time she’s been to this city. Of course B2B is followed by a slew of sexual fest that get your organs ready for some love and happiness. This weekend is Carnaval, which is multicultural love makin’. The Pride Parade is in June, which is gay bumpin’. The Shakespeare Festival is in June, which is nerd pokin’. The Love Parade is in September, and that is skillets on ecstasy sex (pics, they love making bacon). And Folsom St. Fair, which is ugo, weird doing it, is also in September (pics). Of course, my birthday is in June, but I’m going to Texas. Have you seen the ladies there? Jeezy Creezy! What I’m saying is that a lazy guy could have pokin’ time in San Francisco, and if you think I’m wrong ask Ray. He’ll tell you.

What am I getting at? Well, if you haven’t figured it out yet, get your ass to San Francisco. Chicks don’t wear clothes, and we have massive parades celebrating the art of bacon making. What more could you want in a city?