Category Archives: Culture

On the Engine

I’m currently a firefighter intern stationed at Engine 3 in downtown San Francisco. They are the busiest engine company in the entire country averaging over 10,000 calls per year. Our primary coverage area is a squalid 50 square block neighborhood called the Tenderloin; the largest drug ghetto in the United States. Crack. Feces. Meth. Vomit. Needles. Stabbings. Blood. Shootings. Alcoholics. Urine. Bodies. Glass. Noise. Mayhem. As much as you can handle.

Screen shot 2014-02-12 at 4.16.43 PM

We never get a call to rescue a group of swollen titty’d sorority chicks stuck in an elevator. No way. We only get patients whose sex is a mystery until you cut off their piss-soaked pants with trauma shears. Patients rotting from the inside out from a lifetime’s worth of drugs, booze and stupidity. They stand on the corner all day shooting up and assaulting each other, and when one of them drops, we get the call.

Monday morning we ran 17 calls before lunch. Most departments are considered busy if they run that many in a week. I had chugged a Monster Energy drink before we pulled out of the engine bay on our first run. 5 back-to-back calls later – I had that nagging pain in the abdomen, where if I knelt down too quickly I’d leak a little. My angry bladder eventually found relief – lesson learned. The medic I work along side tells me to never kneel down beside a patient as I had done earlier, “around here you’ll end up with a syringe in your kneecap”. Two lessons learned.

The day progresses: I’m crawling into the back of a smashed up sedan to stabilize a driver’s neck, Naloxone vaporized into the nostrils to revive a heroin overdose, pouring water into the eyes of a pepper-sprayed, spitting tranny. Alcohol poisoning, chest pains, pediatric seizure, sliced fingers, allergic reaction… never a dull moment.

Some apartments we’re called to, you literally have to shovel your way through garbage just to get to them. Yesterday this old codger fell in his apartment and had been laying there for almost 2 days, he owned a huge tropical parrot caged in the corner. During the fall, his dentures must have flown out of his mouth and into an adjacent flower pot filled of dead stems and dirt… or that’s where he keeps them. the crew doesn’t miss a beat.  Get a set of vitals, put him on a stretcher, feed the bird, away we go.

Another call was a DOA (dead on arrival) – that is to say, if we had arrived 4 days ago. He had started to decompose around his face, blood pooling in the extremities, the apartment was rank with biology; his patient little dog sat confused by his side while we hooked up EKG leads. The TV still on, broadcasting the Olympics. We notify the coroner, call PD, call animal control, on to the next. Unfortunately, these eerie scenes will probably replace fond memories of being on a beautiful beach in Ko Chang with my lady or something. The brain is just like the bladder, it can only hold in so much before it causes pain. You’ve gotta find a release or go crazy. Writing is like kneeling down – leaking a little.


Wilford Brimley: Talking Points

Good morning Assholes, my name is Wilford Brimley and I’d like to take a minute to talk to those of you out there fiddle-diddling around, wasting your life on these weblogs. I know this is gonna require some reading on your part which is damn near impossible for a shit stain such as yourself but hear me out… I want to discuss some things that’ll help you live a better life. As you know, you logger-headed kids are the reason this country is going to hell in a handbasket and we adults aren’t gonna stand for it any longer! There’s gonna be some changes around here!

First order of business, I want you kids to clean up that crack den you call a bedroom! Throw out all your dildos, pocket pussies and penis pumps and pick up a good book! Educate yourselves! Albert Einstein didn’t sit around lubing up his genitals all goddamn day, and if he did, it was probably to reward himself for discovering the foundations of our physical reality dammit! I don’t see you poo-packers out there testing quantum theory! You just spend your days listening to music that ties my colon in knots! Let’s cut a deal, you find out how to harness the power of nuclear fusion, then you can stick those beads up your ass til the cows come home! Deal?

Next, I want you kids to pull out all those ridiculous facial piercings and earlobe stretcher things! If the good Lord intended you to look like a circus sideshow you woulda been born with a wine cork stuck through your goddamn earlobes! Besides, nobody’s gonna hire some surly clack-dish with metal sticking out of his face, unless you wanna be hosing down elephant shit from a train car for the rest of your life! Damn carnies. Our American brothers and sisters died to protect your freedoms and here you are sticking horseshoe rasps through your goddamn septum!

Lastly, start a savings account. Put a few dollars away everyday instead of spending your every last dime on candy and soda and lube. What happens when it comes time for you to move out of mommy and daddy’s house into the real world? You’ll end up having to spend your evenings down at the State Welcome Center, fondling the humid testicles of some trucker for pennies on the dollar! Who knows, maybe he’ll grow fond of your facial piercings and then you two assholes can go live happily ever after with an extended stay program at Motel 6! Do what you want! You seem to have all the goddamn answers! 

Generation Gap

Harriet Tubman rescued more than 300 slaves using a network of antislavery activists and safe houses known as the Underground Railroad.


These two glued mustaches to their lip.


Cleopatra was the last active pharaoh of Ancient Egypt. She was a member of the Ptolemaic dynasty that ruled Egypt after Alexander the Great’s death during the Hellenistic period.

Screen shot 2014-01-04 at 12.12.22 PM

Krysten totally loves spending time with her dog and enjoys ‘living life to the fullest’.


Hillary Clinton is a graduate of Yale Law School, is a former United States Secretary of State, U.S. Senator, and First Lady of the United States.


Beth glued a mustache to a #2 pencil and enjoys laughing and the outdoors.


Alexander the Great conquered most of the known world by the age of 30.


Mike used the ‘Kelvin’ filter on Instagram to make himself appear more tan and he also likes sports.


Leonardo Da Vinci was an Italian Renaissance painter, sculptor, architect, musician, mathematician, engineer, inventor, anatomist, geologist, cartographer, botanist, and writer. His genius, epitomized the Renaissance humanist ideal.


Todd lives with his grandma and her 3 cats.


And on…


and on…


and on…


and on…


and on…

Screen shot 2014-01-04 at 12.37.00 PM

and on…


and on…


and on…

Screen shot 2013-09-02 at 9.43.10 PM

and on…

Screen shot 2013-09-04 at 6.11.56 PM

and on…

Screen shot 2013-09-09 at 12.11.16 AM

and on…

Screen shot 2013-09-09 at 12.13.37 AM

and on…

Screen shot 2013-09-15 at 2.02.38 PM

and on…

Screen shot 2013-09-24 at 9.31.27 AM


Hell Hath No Flames, Only Bagpipes.


The bagpipe originated in Scotland several hundred years ago, when your closest neighbor lived 10 miles away and you could practice your bagged horn device in a field all damn day without bothering a soul or having your frazzled neighbors want to stab you in your sleep. At least that’s what I would assume Wikipedia would say if I looked up the history of bagpipes, but I don’t want to type “bagpipes” into Google and have to deal with personalized bagpipe ads every time I browse the internet.

The next parade that rolls through town, be sure to watch everybody’s face as the bagpipes pass by – everyone’s expression looks like they’re changing a diaper on an 13 year old.

Firefighter Basics

I’ve got some really exciting news to report to everyone… I just got into the fire academy this week!

But if you think I’m fighting a fucking fire you are out of your goddamn minds! Well, let me rephrase that… If you think I’m fighting a fucking fire without any chicks watching me do it, you are out of your goddamn minds!

Some hippy’s living room is on fire from an unattended candle!? Better call someone who cares… or at the very least somebody that’ll promise to post a youtube video of me kicking down your front door in HD. I mean, why would I ever run into a burning bedroom and risk my life to save a stack of your scratched Evanescence CDs? Or worse, i’m called to resuscitate some goth teenager that hates his life anyway!? On the other hand, if a call comes in reporting a sorority house fire or a deck collapse at some private girl’s college, you know I’ll be there before the last drunk chick hits the lawn!

Today the instructor was all like: “Blah blah blah” something about CPR compression rates on an infant… I’m like: Yea that’s cool, but I’m not stressing over some stranger’s cold blue baby if there aren’t any totally bangin’ bystanders around. I don’t need that kind of grief; you shouldn’t have been puffin’ Marlborough reds while you were preggers chica!

If there are some little hotties hanging around on scene, I’m sure the instructors would agree that you can’t save an infant with all that bulky clothing on, so the jacket and shirt have to come off first… leave the suspenders on… and it may be best to hose me down just a little so I’m cool, calm and ready to be a hero. And lastly, I’m probably gonna need an axe slung over my shoulder while I perform some fancy one-handed CPR. Ya know, just in case something else goes down or people start snapping pics bound for Instagram.

Don’t get me wrong, being a firefighter is important work, but far too dangerous not to fake it once in a while. You do one heroic deed involving a stupid cat and the elderly community comes out of the woodwork trying to hug up on you with their expired perfume. Can’t let em’ salt your game like that though… What happens when a perfect 10 wants to congratulate you, but a line of geriatrics are blocking you from getting her digits? Get back behind the yellow tape granny.

How To: Win a Fight in a Coffee Shop

If you’ve spent anytime in coffee shops here in San Francisco, you no doubt have been asked by a total stranger if you would “watch their stuff for a second”. It’s a fairly common occurrence and unless you’re a total shit-wipe the answer is always yes. Yes ma’am, I will watch your coffee, your bagel, and your $2100.00 Macbook Pro with the 15-inch, scrotum-tickling, crystal-clear retina display – no problem. 

But have you ever really thought about what saying yes involves? Have you ever pondered the reality of some 350lb. whiskey-soaked meat head lunging towards a total stranger’s stunningly beautiful 15-inch Macbook Pro with the hair-raising, nipple hardening, 5 million pixel retina display?

Continue reading

Take The Stairs, Fatty!

You should see some of the lumpy, sour cream and onion stuffed rhino ass out here today in Union Square… overgrown, lumbering tourists cramming their gaping gullets with Nestlé and Nabisco. A blatant disregard for one’s self. Climbing one staircase a month could prevent your ass from looking like a freezer bag filled with Greek yogurt.

In this world there are only two categories of glutes that will cause me to turn my head. One is athletic, toned and healthy looking – it signals reproductive health or at the very least indicates that she can reach to wipe herself clean and therefor would be a suitable mating partner. The other is an ass that looks like it’s storing walnuts and potatoes for the winter – it signals a lifetime of poor choices, chronic laziness, and a likely obsession with American Idol or some other basic cable trash. You only live once so make a healthy choice – and for crying out loud, take the stairs!