Meet the Poopniks

The city screams, and we hollar back.

Art spills out of the cracks of San Francisco and splatters on the walls.

Inspired by new surroundings, Elijah has started research on his first original literary work: "High Altitude Pooping: A Dog's Guide to San Francisco."


As for our first night in the city, in hindsight, perhaps we should have taken time out and relaxed, been wise, drank some water, like Pico, and tested out the pillows.


But what's the point of retrospect? Instead, education met us in our exhuberance and in our mistakes. No longer are we tourists, but locals, initiated for better or worse, starting with old friends and young wine...


...and ending with stop number two on our Emergency Rooms of America Tour.

San Francisco General. Where the wild things are.

Blood spills out of the crack in my head and splatters onto the sidewalk.

As the latest person to randomly fall unconscious in the street in front of City Lights Bookstore, my only regret is that wildness was not the cause, but sudden blackout from dehydration and fatigue.


Pride of the Beatniks I am not.

At least now I know what it feels like to get surgical staples in the head.

It feel like staples. In the head.