Dogbert and I took our standard Mission fun run up around Bernal just now... it was nice. And, at first, perfectly normal. he dragged me the better part of 2 miles, I dragged him most of the way back. See, he likes charging uphill on the way out and on the way back gravity joins forces with my fat to pull us even faster downhill. wheee!!!

Anyway, we're plodding down Valencia and run across a whole bunch of folks outside of Ritual sitting on benches and grass on the side of the street. turns out someone had made an impromptu "urban park" smack dab in the middle of some parking spots. I'm not sure how or why it happened (or if they planned it for street sweeping day and waited around all morning for suckers to move their cars and then snuck in right behind the street sweeper, plopped down their sod and benches and mocked the poor bastards who were now sol in parking terms), but it was awesome. One dude had even had a snake. Marlo did not seem amused. There was a homeless guy snoozing on the grass as if Dolores park had materialized in the middle of Valencia. Another guy had set up a Lucy-from-Peanuts advice stand. (I would have got some cheap insight, or even asked what the eff was going on, but I don't take quarters with me when we jog.) At this point I had my usual reaction to the odd antics of the mission, which seems to be an odd combination of bemusement and misguided frustration (I feel the same when I see the cool kids waiting in line for hours to get some eggs at Boogaloos... they're eggs you freakin' tools. Why would you wait all morning for eggs? and why did you make a park in the middle of the street???) And, as if sensing the odd smugness of the hipsters that had no doubt thought up this idea, Marlo completed the effect by whizzing all over the grass.

Marlo's pee quickly made us persona and canine non-grata, so we headed home. In front of the place, a mother and her 3 young kids had planted themselves on the sidewalk in front of our gate while mom chatted on the cell. First kid looks at Marlo, then to me and says "I hate brown dogs." Of course, I had to ask "why" and he responds "because they're always doing kaka!"... now I probably should know better than to sass a 4 year old, but what the heck... "you probably go kaka an awful lot yourself." I retort. (Mom on cell phone takes a moment to roll her eyes and nod knowingly.) Without missing a beat, his buddy interjects "yeah, and the dog doesn't EAT IT!"

Well played kid, well played.