“Ooh, out of state, too,” Claire Lemmel winces as a parallel parker crunches his van into the side of a Jaguar. Then she puts her smile back on.
There's a strong possibility you’ve seen Lemmel's teeth, either on her “smile car” or on the enlarged mounted photo she holds while sauntering daily down Valencia Street. Lemmel takes her smile to the movies. She takes it to the ophthalmologist. The gleaming eight-inch incisors could be frightening, but no one seems to think so. Read more »
The triumphant Team Bling Bats might owe some of their success to German electronic music pioneer Karlheinz Stockhausen. Without it, the champions of the Food Network reality design show Halloween Wars might not have had the kickass contributions of SF local Shawn Feeney, who helped drive the team to victory in the four-episode series final show on Sunday.
Determining what'll make Twitter's trending-topic menu is hardly rocket science. Seems everyone wants to weigh in on current events (Moscow, Justin Bieber) or add their clever two cents to whatever viral sensation is making the rounds (that "Greatest Arnold Schwarzenegger Quotes" YouTube video sure has made a lot of people happy lately. Including me.) Sometimes, though, the Twitter tendrils find their way into territory so surreal it could only be spawned by the internet hive-mind.
I'm speaking, of course, of the recent #WernerHerzogvsChuckNorris trend, which may have been inspired by this 2009 Nerve.com article that dared tick off "Five Reasons Why Werner Herzog is More Badass Than Chuck Norris," itself surely inspired by the Chuck Norris facts page, which is still such a phenom that you can go there and create your own "There is no chin behind Chuck Norris' beard. There is only another fist" t-shirt. Or any other phrase that catches your fancy, for that matter ("When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris" is another good one, but really -- they're all winners).
Dolores Park is a prime spot for many activities: basking in the sunshine, finding dates, judging people, smoking and drinking in public, hitting nappers in the head with Frisbees, fraternizing with the locals, feeling claustrophobic, and becoming more attractive (see below). First and foremost is sunshine, of which the rainy months and desk jobs have robbed many SF residents. The exodus to Dolo Park usually begins when the first rays of sun break through the fog, but the true swarm takes place on the first days of summer. Certain contingents (we could call them “the gentrifiers”) arrive looking like the undead: wan, anemic, and skeletal. But by August, Dolores Park has worked its magic: tank top tans have transformed them from “almost-see-through” to a sallow shade of “slightly-less-pale” and little beer bellies round out their skinny frames.
A couple weeks ago, however, it seemed that all this Dolo magic might be coming to a temporary halt.