WE ARE ALL JACQUES BONHOMME

Low rumbles and booms. A distant barrage. As is suitable. When I was a child, fireworks thrilled me. Still kind of like them. But it isn't the be all and end all of celebration. It's okay. When I went out for late lunch I decided upon an eatery which has pleased me for a very long time. Roast meats, generous portions, high quality. They've had to raise their prices shockingly, I suspect that like so many places in San Francisco that have been around for a while, the landlords passed on and the heirs are greedy bastards perfectly willing to screw their tenants. Commercial tenants in this city can be easily maltreated.

It's the American way.

Roast duck is celebratory. Their roast duck is stellar.
And their siu yiuk is out of this world.


This city hasn't been the same since those damned Southerners bought Bank of America and Pac Bell was sold to the Texans. Part of the local politicians whoring SF out to outside moneybags. Because, of course, they all had major real estate investments.
Which because they could manipulate things, boomed incredibly.


Many politicians, on either side of the spectrum, are swine who should be shot.



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