I’m more outta here than John Roberts

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I’m in San Francisco for a few days for a wedding, so posting will be lighter (but not non existent!), if only because San Fran officially knows I’m here and has no interest in coddling the sworn enemy of it’s Congressinsect. They already issued me a Prius (red!) and one friendly resident spent precious dog-walking time complaining to me about Mitch McConnell (and, somewhat ironically, immigration, which has “destroyed the natural diversity of San Francisco by running out all of the other Spanish-speaking cultures”).

On the plus side, I did get to see the houses from the opening credits of Full House, eat some more-than-decent cioppino from a restaurant that had a “fish receiving station,” ride a cable car, see some sea lions, have a drink in The Fairmont thus continuing my proud tradition of imbibing with dead presidents (though the ghost I encountered in the Ladies’ Room was uncommunicative at best), say “Forget it, Jake, it’s Chinatown” in Chinatown, and assured myself that liberals will never adopt the Chevy Volt as there is no way that car could make it up any of these hills without taking out half the city in a series of giant fireballs. Which, yes, would be tragic. Lots of history here. And sea lions.

At any rate, I’ll update you frequently on my exploits, especially if you follow me on Twitter or friend me on Facebook, or care to look at any of my Instagram photos. See you on the flip side, America! And be nice to Alex.