I left for San Francisco around 08:30 and accidentally ingested five
hits of blotter acid I found on the train. I had dressed for the
occassion in my usual black Levi's 501s, black New Balance 621 shoes,
black Marilyn Manson t-shirt, black cap with my trademark Che Guevara
pin, and three silver earrings including my trademark silver hoop and
a cool skull with a cowboy hat. I was worried that I didn't look gay
enough so I added a blue flannel lumberjack shirt and completed the
dorky tourist look with an ultra-padded "Swiss" backpack from Targét,
Canon EOS Rebel 35mm, a city transit map, and a compass.

I made my way west to Buena Vista Park just south of Haight Street
near Masonic. It is a mountain-top park and it was an incredibly
steep hike to the top. I started peaking just as I reached the peak
and spent a good hour up there just tripping around and eating a
snack and enjoying the cool mist that passed over the hilltop. Then
I found a pipe and a gram of Purple O.G. Kush laying on the ground
and I accidentally smoked some and then I took a Vitamin C tablet
and then smoked some more and I started peaking again and then I
floated all the way down to Haight Street.

From Haight Street I made my way past a bunch of head shops where I
accidentally bought another marijuana pipe and then I made my way to
the Stanyan Street entrance to Golden Gate Park and I wandered down
the path past Hepatitis Lake, past the Free Drug Zone sign where the
homeless hippie kids offer you buds for sale. No mushrooms were to
be found today, though I probably could have found some if I had come
back around 4:20, but I didn't have time. The drum circle at Hippy
Hill was going at half-steam, probably because it wasn't a sunny day.
I made my way to the Botanical Gardens and tripped around in there
for awhile, getting lost in the jungle of exotic plants from all over
the world.

From the Botanical Gardens I made my way to 9th Street and Irving, a
neighborhood with lots of nice restaurants and lots of cute young men.
I browsed restaurant menus and picked an Indian-Pakistani one called
Tasty Curry and ordered their lamb curry with a side of saffron rice
and sesame seed naan bread with butter. The curry was so fragrant and
delicious, perfectly spiced without being unbearably hot or overdosed
on cilantro. I was so hungry from all the hiking that I devoured the
last grain of rice and sopped up every last bit of curry with my naan.
Dinner was followed by a fair-trade double cappucino with an extra
shot of espresso, topped with a bit of cocoa and nutmeg, enhanced by
yet another bowl of Purple Kush.

I caught the 71 West bus on Lincoln and made it to the western edge of
the city overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Misty, foggy, smell of sea
breeze. Caught the N line back to Van Ness and transferred northbound
towards Fisherman's Wharf. Wandered around Pier 39 and listened to the
sea lions barking. Made my way to Columbus Avenue and wandered past
all the fancy Italian restaurants with their cute Italian waiters. That
was around 23:00 and by then I really had to rush back to Market Street
to catch the train back to East Bay.

I wish I had more time, I didn't get a chance to wander back through the
infamous Tenderloin District (Crack Whore District). I made it there on
Halloween, and got to see all the hookers including several authentic
transexual crack whores. The only problem is that the neighborhood is
just so fucking disgusting, full of negroes and homeless people who piss
and shit on the sidewalk. The whole area reeks of urine.

======================================================================
"I've always been paranoid about the police, because even when I'm not
doing something illegal I'm thinking about doing something illegal.
So whenever I'm around a cop, I get uncomfortable and nervous, worried
that I'm going to say the wrong thing or look so guilty that they'll
arrest me anyway. Being completely out of my mind on drugs doesn't
help the situation any."