Give Me a Mothereffing Sign, San Diego
July 8, 2012
July 8, 2012
This blog post is all about signs. And like the mutherfucking Five Man Electrical Band said, “Sign, sign, everywhere a sign, Blockin’ out the scenery, breakin’ my mind, Do this, don’t do that, can’t you read the sign?”
And hell, I saw a lot of them on my recent trip to the Whale’s Vagina. Or as you normal folk like to call it, San Diego.
I was there for business but had much pleasure of the writerly variety. Everywhere I went there were signs. Some bad, many entertaining, all had the whaaaaaaaa? factor that makes my blood boil in anticipation.
The hotel I stayed at provided much amusement. From the odd signage, deceitful trickster elevator shaft, and then a random red spider chandelier.
I stayed on the delightful 13th/14th floor, where three teens informed me that since I was on the top floor I’d be the one to burn to death should a fire hit the hotel.
The chandelier looked like it belonged in a Harry Potter novel. Or Liberace’s bedroom.
The bathroom scale taunting me was un-ironically named, giving females everywhere even more of a complex than they probably already have.
I brewed coffee on the toilet.
Also, the restaurant at the hotel was oddly named. It was named Stish, accompanied by a fish replacing the “I”.
Clearly they mean to make a fish reference by the “get hooked” tagline…so why not just name the restaurant “Fish”? Why is the ST- necessary? Can someone explain this to me? HUMANITY? PATRICK SWAYZE? ANYONE?
Venturing out into the world of the Whale’s Vagina, I was met by even more awesome signage. As if the “almost caught on fire” would be an enticement, management felt it necessary to add, “Do not use.”
Albie’s [Hot] Beef Inn was a place I SQUEED over.
So vintage, I almost expected the Rat Pack to be chilling in the corner. The piano player played all the classics. I want to go to there. Every night, cigarette in hand, swilling liquor like a baller, staring at boobies of the bouncy variety.
They did have one minor fault. A menu filled with grammatical errrors. Hors d’oeuvres has an apostrophe, Albie’s, not a hyphen. LEARN IT. LOVE IT.
When we weren’t drinking indoors, we were drinking outdoors. We commanded a boat across San Diego Harbor (I think. I don’t even know where we went) and there were wonders in the bathroom stalls. Viagra abounded, many mentions of head…I guess of the sailor variety?
This. This was hanging in the men’s bathroom.
The girl’s bathroom was no better. Clearly, we’re all on the rag and need numerous warnings.
Our manly captain drank TAB.
I did learn that you are not allowed to birth babies at the San Diego pier.
Nor do they have life vests for them.
I was so enthralled with the new design of the Budweiser can I took 10 photos of it. Here is the best one.
There is nothing better than to end this photo recap of a Whale’s Vagina, then to let you enjoy this little snapshot I accidentally took while I was peeing.
Yes. I did that.