These photos were taken in 2010.

      I have since become friends with the man in the white hat back there.  He is a nice guy, and writes a lot.

      I don't know who the guy standing there is.

      All I remember is that all three of us were talking.

      He seemed like a cool guy.

      This is John.  I haven't seen him in a while.

      Nighttime in 'The Mission' in San Francisco.  It is a popular area because of the young people and the bars around here.  Lots of cute girls around, in other words.

      People who hang out in coffee shops at night don't have money for bars, or they have homework to do.

     That is a pretty cool motorcycle.

     I got my coffee, and I drew up a Princess Leia Slave girl napkin art.  I'll start painting it up tonight.
    
     The Man Who Smacks His Lips was there today.  It is disgusting to hear, and annoying.  He sits there and makes this smack sound for over an hour.  It is enough to drive a person insane.
     He is one of those newspaper readers with not much to do.
     I had to sit at another table other than my favorite one because of him.
     Even when I was across the room, I could still hear this little...smack...smack...smack even with the jazz music over the stereo.
     I don't know if he is conscious he is even doing it.  If a close friend told him to stop, he probably would for a while, but then he would start it all up again.

     There was a young couple there.  It didn't look like they were having too easy of a time financially.  The girl was kind of cute.  I wanted to draw her, but I didn't think it was appropriate.  I was sitting too close to her, and I didn't want to stare.  It would have been too obvious.

     Someday I'll have enough money again, and then I can just hire models. 
     It's been working fine, though, with just drawing from photographs, and making my own modifications.

     I'm still thinking about the 'Dead Can Dance' concert that I attended.  It was pretty incredible.  There is a lot of talent in that band.

     Then, last night, my friend had me listening to Norwegian Black Metal, and that sounded pretty good, too.

     In addition, I watched George Lopez's 'America's Mexican'.  He is a very funny man.  I really enjoy his stand-up.  He makes it look easy, but I know it is not.  He puts his heart into it, and that is very hard work.
     You have to give everything you got when you are on stage, or else, why bother going up there in the first place?

     Now I am just going to play some video games until I have to go to work.  I have to buy some more paint today on the way there.  I am out of white.

     I would have stayed longer at the cafe, but I was not feeling it today.  I got tipsy last night, and I didn't need any more people sucking the soul out of my body.

     It was just another day at the cafe, though, it was beautiful outside.
     It really was lovely outside.
     I stood out there, as is my custom, with cigarette in hand, and just watched the people and cars go by.

     I looked at a comic book from Sweden, and made a couple of drawings from it.

     I perused the newspapers, read a couple of articles, and looked for good photos to trace.
     I found one of Cameron Diaz, and drew her face.
     She is a pretty lady.

     I also looked at a JCPenny catalogue that was atrocious.  They had a pair of plaid shorts that either a preppie or a young gay man would wear called 'Seersuckers'.  I'm not kidding.
     Other than that, they had these angelic photos of a skinny young lady who had a dopey expression on her face, as if she was really stupid.  She was very pretty, but it looked like she didn't have a single ounce of knowledge in her head about anything.

     I only stuck to one coffee today.  The Research Department was very busy.  I was so occupied with my activities, that I forgot to drink much.

     I drew a good looking woman's butt.  That was fun.  Then she left before I could draw her figure.  She was wearing boots, so I wanted to draw that.

     The counter lady is not natural with English, so she is no fun for me.

     Anyhow, I got ready for tonight's napkin art festivities.

     Now I can kick back for a couple of hours and play some video games.

     It is a good life, I am not complaining.  I just need The Sales Department to work harder.

     It would be nice to have a house, or even an apartment with a guest room, so my brothers could fly into town, and I could give them a room to stay in.

    

     This vintage Schwinn bicycle was locked to a parking meter for over a week.
     It is a beautiful bike.

     I don't know what happened to it.
     Maybe it finally got stolen.

     I figured that it was there in the first place because somebody rode it to a bar one night, and got drunk.  Then he left to go to a party, or somebody's house, and he forgot where he locked up his bike.

     I did a lot of research today, pouring over newspapers, reading articles, and cutting out pictures.
     I also did a lot of tracings from the pictures for my napkin art.
    
     All this was tampered by having to listen to some twenty-nine year old sales representative and a thirty year old woman talk about apartment conditions.
     At first, they talked real loud so the whole cafe could hear.
     Thankfully, they toned it down a little, though I could still hear every word from across the room.

     The man must have been from Utah.  He had a Snowbird shirt on, and his haircut fit the bill.
     It is people like him why I would never want to live in Utah.
     I was wishing he would shut up.
    
     Both of them talked about their point of view, not listening too much to the other.
     When the other was speaking, they waited for their turn to talk, instead of processing what the other was saying.
     Suffice it to say, it was tedious to listen to.

     So there was that.
     The coffee and the weather were both excellent.

     The art show was not even worth looking at.

     I saw a couple of attractive girls and women.

     One older woman was wearing a short skirt, but I didn't try to look up it.

     While I was outside smoking, there was a creepy dome-head photography guy taking pictures.  I tried to get out of his view.
     He ended up walking by me, and his pudgy skin and facial expression made him look like a douche to me.

     I saw a bar owner I knew standing outside.  He said 'Hi'.  He is a nice guy.

     I saw a poet I know ride by on a bike.

     I saw people walking, and cars driving by.

     Yesterday I saw yet another inconsiderate bike rider on the wrong side of the road.  What is up with that?  It is so dangerous.

     So, I amassed a collection of newspaper clippings, and some new napkin art.  I was pretty happy about my work.
     The only problem is that kind of research takes time. 
     I am glad I did it, though.
     I have the start of many new and cool napkin arts.

     The counter people in this cafe for the most part, are not too adept at English.  It would be more fun for me if they were.  Then there would be some continuity from day to day, like I have at the bar.

     Anyway, it was a good day at the cafe, and very positive...except for the people that talked my ear off.

     It was a nice day at the cafe.  The weather was fantastic outside.  I saw some cute girls.  What more do I want out of life?
     This nice man bought me an iced latte.  He offered me $3 so I could buy one.  The price ended up being $3.45, so I chipped in a buck.
     $3.45 for a cup of ice, coffee, and some milk in a clear plastic cup with a lid?  Damn, bitch.  It was damn good, though.

     I got some writing done, drew up some new napkin arts, and did a page of comic book stuff, so I was happy.

     Some women were in their summer dresses, so that was nice.

    

     There were not a lot of people in the cafe today, so the ones that were there felt that they had to talk louder in order to compensate, and to fill up the space.
     All I want to do is listen to the music, and jam out with my writing pad, and maybe draw some pictures.
     But no, this was not possible.
     So, yes, I was annoyed, and didn't get as much done as I would have liked.
    
     This one girl was so bothersome with her tinny voice, that I walked out of the cafe with my fingers in my ears.  She was that awful.
    
     Anyone ever hear of 'conversation level'?

     Some people have to talk so everybody in the room can hear them.  This does not make you more important, no matter what you might think.  It just makes others think about what an idiot you are.  It gets worse if the person has nothing to say of value.

     If you are going to talk loud in a cafe, make sure it is good.



     So, I was able to write a couple of pages, but I couldn't really find a rhythm today.

     When I go to a cafe, I just want to hear the music, and maybe some background conversation.  I don't need somebody's yuppie work meeting to dominate my thoughts.
     It is rude for them to talk so loudly.

     Of course, I can leave anytime I want, but that is no fun.  I go to the cafe to start out my day, and I don't need inconsiderate people to ruin my experience.

     Humans are not always kind.

     This is the same cafe where I stopped doing my painting, because no one there seemed to care or have money to buy my art.
     I go to this cafe because it is convenient, and they have the best coffee.

     I was thinking about the events of the previous night, but the cafe people interrupted my thought processes.
     It is hard enough to think in silence, much less having someone's inane conversation in your ears.
     I can close my eyes, but I can not turn off my hearing.  I wish I could at times.
     Headphones aren't really a solution for me, because then I have something else blasting into my ears.  Maybe I ought to go back to bringing in a radio, I'm not sure.

     Anyway, the coffee was good, and I smoked a couple of cigarettes by the curb, as is my custom.

     Coffee and cigarettes at the cafe is my favorite thing in the world, along with looking at women's butts, haha.

     I feel better now.

     All I can do is laugh, though it takes me a while to get into a jovial mood. 

     I ain't laughing yet, because I still feel burned from the inane talk I had to endure.  It was a real pain to suffer through.

     One thing I never got to write about at the cafe is there was a lot of traffic last night in the downtown area.  It was tough to navigate my bicycle through.  There were police cars, and traffic backed up for blocks.  Sometimes political luminaries come into town, even The President of The U.S.A. has been through San Francisco.  In those cases, there are police escorts, and secret service cars, and a whole big hullabaloo. 
     It is just a part of living here, I guess.

     By the way, that is the correct spelling of 'hullabaloo'.

     So, I will spend the rest of my free time today writing blogs, playing video games, and trying to clear out some memory room on my computer so that I can play even more video games.

     Christ, I need a shave.
     I was thinking earlier that the only times I really use god names is when I am swearing.  They aren't good for much else, in my opinion.

     All I know is just because a bunch of people believe something to be true, doesn't make it true.

     Along with religion, all that Astrology crap is for the birds.  It is all a bunch of nonsense.

     Then I talked with some girl last night.  I enjoy her company from time to time just talking at the bar.  She is kind of nice to look at.  She has a lot of issues, though, with her family.  It sounds dark. 
     I told her when you are an adult, you can make your own family of people, the ones that you like to be around.
     A typical family gives you life and support, but after a certain age, usually around eighteen, they just suck you into their own personal quagmires of Hell.

     Anyway, another lady friend bought me a brandy.

     Yet another lady friend bought me a beer, so I gave her a napkin art painting of a little guy with a pot belly with no arms.

     I hung out with three women last night, one after the other at the bar.  That was fun.
     I made no money, but I pretty much got my night paid for.

     Only one of the women have I had relations with in the past.  It is always nice to see her.  Unfortunately, I am too much of a free spirit.  I don't want to be tied down.  I always feel like I have to be making art, or else I am not fulfilling my promise to myself.  It is part of being an artist, which requires complete commitment.

     It is just how it goes.

     So, this Muddy Waters Cafe on Valencia near 16th is a little run down, but that is just how I like it.  I feel more comfortable in these kinds of places, especially since I always wear pants with paint on them.

     I love to go there in there in the morning, groggy from just waking up, with a notebook in hand, and get some strong coffee to perk me up.
     Then I like to write and draw like a madman.
     It is fun.

     Thanks for reading.  I am going to play some video games right now.

    

     I love, love, love to take pictures of people when they are asleep in cafes and bars.  It is a lot of fun.  If they fall asleep in a public place, they deserve to have their picture taken.  That is how I feel, haha.