We love Hemlock Tavern, we love Jam Hands, we love Vegansaurus, we love cupcakes and we love bad music. That last one is not exactly true, but you should still check out Dinosaur Bicycle’s concert concert tonight because it has all these ingredients and they have an awesome name. AND it’s to help a cute dog named Hazel get surgery. And if there’s something that we love even more than all those things above, it’s cute doggies. So we’re totally there tonight at 9. And so should you. What else are you going to do on a Sunday night?

In case we weren’t convincing enough, here’s Vegansaurus compelling promo for the concert:

My band (that’s right, I said BAND, I am in a BAND because I am VERY MUSICALLY TALENTED), Dino Bike, is playing at Hemlock Tavern on Sunday, Aug. 29. We do amazing shit like medleys from Top Gun and throw vegan cupcakes into the audience. Also, there might be some stripping involved and playing of cow bell by Leanne from Vaute Couture! OH and our opening band, Red Light Circuit. Oh, they’re just OPENING FOR HANSON NEXT MONTH. That’s all.

SERIOUSLY, it’s gonna be ridic. and IN ADDITION TO THE RIDICULOUSNESS:

Every penny raised will go to help pay for TPLO surgery for my dog, Hazel, who is the most beautiful, wonderful, perfect pit bull in all the land and also, ONE EXPENSIVE BITCH! This year on self-care, I’ve spent about $5 (showers are for fools! I will not conform to society’s arbitrary standards for hygiene!) and on Hazel-care, about $6,000. So anyway, the show is only five bucks and you’re gonna get some vegan treats out of it (uh… anyone want to bake??) and I’ll pass around donation jars and you might get to see some bazoongas. Not a bad deal, at all!

Also, Jonas from Vegansaurus is in the band, and Jordan is maybe in the band. So really, it’s a Vegansaurus spectacular! And I’m gonna write this all up in The Bold Italic so if you come and make a big enough scene, your name will be in print!

Now, please, RSVP, s’il vous plaît!

A Top Gun medley, seriously? How could we miss that!

One of the big highlights of our little TenderNight yesterday was the ukulele performance by Jam Hands. We need to emphasize the fact that she told us it was her first public performance ever and that a crowd of bloggers and twitterers can be quite intimidating (as well as slightly socially awkward). However, as the talented Tenderloin girl that she is, she pulled it off quite successfully. In particular, her “Vegan Boys are the Worst” was a hit. So, by popular demand, we have no choice but to post it here for your enjoyment:

And if you’re in need of some procrastination, take a look at her other cool ukulele songs on her YouTube channel. If you’re in need of even more procrastination, kittehs…

The other day an old acquaintance from Europe was telling me how much she’d like to visit San Francisco because of this song by Train, which I might add was not the reason I originally came to San Francisco:

And that’s when I realized that the first line mentions our dear neighborhood as a past lover:

I used to love The Tenderloin
’till I made some tender coin
then I met some ladies from Marin

The song is by no means about the Tenderloin specifically, but generally about San Francisco and it has some other amazing displays of poetic literature for the ages:

I never knew all that I had
Now Alcatraz don’t sound so bad
at least they’d have a hella fine merlot

But it made me wonder if there are many songs out there either about the Tenderloin or at least mentioning it in the lyrics and no, Scott McKenzie’s – “San Francisco” mentions little else beyond “flowers”, “hair”, and “wearing”. Anyone else know of any Loin lyrics?

Well, actually, I don’t, but I’m still mystified as to why there was a jazz group in front of 737 Post playing their asses off last night. I’m assuming it was a stunt to attract people in to look at places to buy as the musicians had a way about them that said, “Shit, we’re playing on a sidewalk to no crowd. This better a) pay damn well and b) not show up on our MySpace page.” The valets had a look that said, “I’m not pooling my tips with the damned musicians.” Oh yeah, nobody post this to MySpace. Facebook and Twitter, sure.

I bumped in to my neighbor the other day as she was battling the incessant onslaught of takeout menus that get attached to the building door. This neighbor happens to live two floors down from me in the same apartment unit. In between us is the meat of a very shitty apartment sandwich on the fourth floor of the building.

I mentioned to her that it seems to be rather quiet lately as our middle neighbor was born without the benefit of understanding the terms “other” and “fucking human beings”. She told me that he had moved out and a nice gay couple had moved in (like, hello gentrification, bitches!) It was at that point where the two of us “old timers” realized that in seven years we’ve had… wait for it… three drummers live between us. As the run has ended, I think it’s time to pay tribute to the three head bangers I’ve shared space with:

Drummer 1
I hardly knew you, but you were weird. That time I caught you in the elevator taking your plant out for what I assume must have been a walk disturbed me for awhile. Your choice drum was the bongo. I had trouble respecting you for that because you loved to play it out on the fire escape and you couldn’t keep time to save your life. I assume that when you moved out you joined the horde at the east end of Golden Gate Park, drumming badly by day and sleeping in the park by night. Peace be with your and your large bongos.

Drummer 2
We got to know each other a lot better since you invited me down shortly after you move in to check out your “totally awesome” 20 pot plants you were growing in your closet. I respected the business initiative. I did not respect it being below me though as the grow lights kept my place pretty hot. That and the fact that I don’t smoke weed, when your chronic was drying, the stank up through my bathroom window was wicked harsh.

Your choice drum was typically an electric kit. I liked how sometimes you just said, “fuck it” and beat it up on your live Ludwig kit. That was solid, especially at 3AM when you had your friends over. You also loved the fire escape, hanging out, strumming a little acoustic guitar, and smoking weed through the night. It would have been a peaceful seen the likes of Little House on the Prairie if I didn’t live above you.

I have to admit that when I called your place at 4AM on Wednesday during one of your parties and told you to call it a night, your totally fubar, “I am so, so out of control.” make me laugh then and I still laugh about it now. I would almost apologize about my ex-girlfriend calling the landlord to bust your pot growing operation, but she wasn’t down with it and well, in the end you were a dick.

Drummer 3
I almost feel like I’ve had an intimate, touching relationship with you. This is probably due to hearing you and your girlfriend banging the bed in to the wall when you were screwing. On the bright side, this lasted only 2-3 minutes at most and was maybe twice a week. You were a stallion.

That the fire escape beckoned to you like a flame to a moth came as no surprise. Your weed was cheap though (most likely because you weren’t growing it) and the stank that filled up my bedroom wasn’t too awesome. I know that you came in to drumming purely by chance and probably because of the vibe in that apartment. I don’t really know what you played, but it seemed to be electronic and uncontrollable by you which makes me think you were trying to play it with your impotent junk. You will probably be least missed as you had all the charm and character of a rock that kept rolling over my foot for no good reason.

Conclusion
And those are my fourth floor drummers, all seven years of them. It makes me wonder if the new couple downstairs, when not busy raising property values in the neighborhood, will eventually pick up drumming as well? I leave you with the following video:

As is typical, this video had sharing disabled, so I have to do the old skool thing and link to it. Sorry for the flashback to 1998. Enjoy your Spice Girls while here.