Why in the hell do homeless people always have dogs?  I assume it is some kind of a begging tactic, but what the hell?  PETA wants to hang Michael Vick by his balls, yet any dreadlocked idiot who cannot take care of him/herself has a cute little puppy. 

My parents wouldn’t let me get a dog until I was 14 or so and we had a house with power, a yard, access to dog food and only smoked crack on the weekends (you know - normal).   So I’m at the DMV the other day (talk about the LCD of society), I step outside due to enjoy my 1.5 hour wait and what is it I see at the park?  Numerous homeless with dogs.  Are these poor things fed?  

Are they constantly getting brown weed smoke blown in their faces?

If you can’t have at least a crappy apartment and a form of income, you shouldn’t have a dog.  I guess the one good thing is since these people don’t work, they can spend all day with the dog.  Also, since they live outside, I guess you don’t have to worry about the dog being taken out to the bathroom.  Regardless, I don’t effing get it.  Maybe it is for companionship, but since there are roughly 12,500 homeless in SF, I figure they can all hang out and leave poor fido out of it.

Let’s discuss girlfriend’s birthdays.  Those of us lucky enough to have a good one in our lives are keenly aware that this is a 3-2 count, bottom of the ninth, runner in scoring position, tie game (ladies, this means it is important for men to come through).  You cannot simply deliver a day of cheesesteaks, Guiness, Jameson, watching a game or two, and some naughtier-than-usual sex (AKA, what any guy would kill for).  El dia de nacimiento of your beloved lady isn’t just that, it has become birthWEEK!  Yay!  What this results in is men (or girlfriends, if that is how you get down – send pix) becoming some kind of confused concierge for a week.  “It’s my birthday week” is the response to why we should go to see Grease, get up on Sunday to go get breakfast despite the pending Niner’s game, watch Grey’s Anatomy, cuddle, do anything shopping related, etc.  I haven’t even mentioned the dinners, presents, hotels, and/or trips that are also expected.  So now you have been doing things all week that you normally would never do, and your bank account is taking a hit. Questions is how did this all start?

Now I understand we have a responsibility, and with women being a different and more sensitive/emotional being, we need to do these things to continue the option of procreation (not to mention mouth-procreation).  Who else would we rather spend our time and money on?  But it is a birthday, ladies, not a birthWEEK.  And if it is going to be a birthWEEK, then it should be reciprocal.  Since this isn’t a smut column, per se, I will spare you of most of the activities men would request for 7 days, but just think of if you had to do everything your man (or alpha-dike) would request.  It would be a combination of this, a little of that, some of this, more of that, and after all this we’re going to get thirsty so something to drink, and of course for a whole week. Oddly enough, my afore mentioned guy preferences can all be performed in our apartment (except the courtside tickets).  I honestly see no hope of this changing, but that is why I have a rant column on the internets.

Today’s rant is about birds. What the hell is going on here? First flight 1549 gets both engines taken out by birds and makes a landing that is more wet than Perez Hilton at a Jonas Brother’s show. While we’re here, what is up with dumpy gay guys being social and fashion icons? Some gay load is 5-6, 225 of pure tit, wears fluorescent colors, and has feathered, colored hair. This makes It an authority on what other people should do and wear? In fact, Hilton’s hair looks like a bird. A bird sitting on top of a giant pile of crap poured into clothes from Hot Topic. But I digress… Next, a small plane in Tennessee or some hell hole hits a bird and lands with it stuck to the windshield. Not to be outdone, a gang of tequila soaked seagulls hit a plane en route from San Jose to Denver that was going 120+ on the runway. This forced the pilot to abort the take off, and delayed further degentrification of LoDo. The obvious solution is to shoot/scare/kill the birds that hang around airports, but of course hippies don’t want to do anything that logical. What the hell do birds do that is so great anyway? Certain varieties are delicious, such as the cute little ducky that was in my penne last night, but mostly birds just squawk and shit. Don’t even get me started on fucking pigeons. They are the Homeless of the Sky. Just filty and disgusting. I always have the ones that are missing toes, a wing, have half a head, etc., come sit 1/2 a foot away from me while I am eating. Just kill the damn things, I want to eat a $5 Footlong in the sun, not get bird-AIDS. One time, in front of the Hyatt in downtown SF, there was a big hawk. Now that was a cool bird, I am pretty sure Chuck Norris was under its feathers. Well this hawk was killing pigeons! It would swoop down, kill a pigeon, then return to its perch. I was enjoying watching this, until some bitch (undoubtedly from Marin or Berkeley) called the cops. Yes, the police were called to do something about this avarian genocide. The poor cop shows up, surveys the situation, and thankfully did not pull out his service revolver to strafe the side of the Hyatt to save some festering wounds with wings. Perhaps my biggest annoyance with the fucking pigeons…You know who is always feeding them? THE GOD DAMN HOMELESS. So some scabie ridden filth bag is feeding his winged cousins, creating an incredibly dirty and uncomfortable situation for people. People who are walking to work in the Financial District to have the good fortune to give 40%+ of what they make to the government to keep the streets full of homeless and the air full of pigeons. God I hate San Francisco sometimes. Lastly, birds are too god damn loud and wake up earlier than a 4 year old on Christmas. You tell me one benefit of having birds on this planet. F*ck birds.