You're Just an LA Girl... You worry 'bout the wrong things, the wrong things.

SFO, day two...

We started off the day sitting in Jewell's apartment drinking coffee, shooting the shit and watching Marc futzing around the apartment in his dalmation boxers. Actually, we were all trying to avoid looking at Marc for fear of catching a glimpse of his prize.

It's not that we'd drank a ton the night before, or stayed up late, we just couldn't get moving... All wrapped up in chatting and reminiscing... We didn't leave Noe valley until after 1, and embraced the Rat Pack at The Elite Cafe where bloody mary's and deviled eggs were the order of the day...

SF is a foodie paradise, and shallow pockets after a swanky bfast, resulted in touristy activities to avoid mindless shopping. We headed to Crissy Field, riding low in Marc's Tic Tac on wheels. It was deceptively cold and windy, but diverting... Notice Lassie's 'spensive scarf wrapped snuggly around Jimbo's neck.

We found ourselves back in Noe wasting time, where I found out Cash had lost his best friend to a battle with cancer. It was a sad moment, and I decided to go for a run up and down the hills of Noe in remembrance of a good dog. While out, Sweetpickles and the Classie Lassie decided to open a bottle of Champagne and finish an open bottle of 4.99 Yellow Tail red.

After a brutal and burning run, I found two loopy ladies ready for dinner and a night on the town... We didn't go far... Italian around the corner and the Valley Tavern to close out the night... We met up with two drunk, under-fed boys armed with souvenir orange plastic tumblers from the Giants. In fact, Amy and her new boyfriend danced their way through a clearly discotheque-free environment.

I went to check out, pay the bill... The POS was down, and the stoned bartender tried to convince me to write out my cc number, and sign against an "open bill". WTF? I don't think so. I gave her $20. She asked me about what she was going to do if the bill was higher, and in my own special, direct way, said "I don't understand how this is my problem?!?" I left the bar, and burning bridges in San Francisco behind me...

We hit the streets, climbed our way back to Case del Noe, and decided to rock our bodies to a little Kanye... Dance party USA, white people movin', drinkin' and trying not to wake the neighbors. I was completely sober, rockin' my Heartless sunglasses, and laughing my ass of at Marc's sippy cup of Maker's, closed eyes, and gentle swaying to Paranoid.

We fell into Lassie's cushass bed for a night of deep snores, drunkin sweats, and a undisturbed 10 hours...