If You're Going to San Francisco

So, after much trial and tribulation, Saringer and I finally reached San Francisco (I've been informed it's a total rookie move to call it "San Fran"; the locals refer to it as "SF" or "The Fran" or "The Frisco."  I might have made some of that up).  We got to Silverwood's place-- which I believe was originally built as an observatory for traffic noise-- at around midnight on Tuesday, making our trek 17-hours door-to-door.  That meant--

Which made us feel like--

And while less stalwart travellers might have been driven to desperation--

--dauntless and intrepid expeditioners that we are, we persevered.  Now, armed with an invigorated appreciation for life, and a pair of $7 umbrellas, we're ready to tackle SF.

Important points thus far:

• Defying all expectations, Saringer was the first to have to take a piss this trip-- I'm really hoping to silence my critics with a continued strong performance, here.
• Three men using two towels with no washing machine = probable fungal infection(s).
• Cloth sneakers have fared surprisingly well against the Jurassic Park rains here.
• We still have not found the garbage can in Silverwood's apartment.  Possibly the floor.
• Happy hour seems to be 11am-7pm in most places.

Bottoms up.