
Loved to Death is the new hip place to visit in San Francisco. Why just today I picked up a cute little coyote skull. The damn thing spent all afternoon on my typewriter before its frighting and macabre gaze forced me to move it on top of a stack of books. Currently, Loved to Death is all but a hairy mole in the corner of a shop called Neda’s on Haight Street. Neda’s, an ephemera and flower shop that I frequent often, looking for old hats and alligator feet, is one of my favorite places to stop by, if only to freak people out who have the nerve to visit me in the city. Painted ladies, sure….Golden Gate Bridge, why not…..but alligator feet, you bet your bottom dollar! Occupying only a tiny corner now, the tattooed shopkeeper promised that soon this tiny kingdom of skinned animalia will take up almost half of Neda’s storefront. Good god, now Coit Tower can really go fuck itself. And another thing, what would we do with ourselves if we let all those poor animals disintegrate alone in the desert. Loved to Death, 1681 Haight St., inside Neda’s.

When you run for president it is always good to have a coalition of midgets rooting for you.



Many people are dealing with the death of Polaroid in many and strange ways. Hoarding, stealing, whoring, countless hours on ebay, and craigslist, are just a few of the macabre and desperate coping mechanisms of someone in a Polaroid withdrawal. The Polaroid Freak Team is taking this loss in a totally different way. Combined with a potentially diagnosable addiction to pornography, these Satanists scour the ol’ world wide web for photos and use a process called “Polaroiding” to make them look like vintage Polaroids. No longer can we use the term “Polaroiding” to describe the age old Eskimo pasttime of sodomizing polar bears. Enjoy The Polaroid Freak Team.

Let me offer this disclaimer: I don’t condone, nor glorify the insanity and terror Mr. Manson inflicted. Click to listen: Charles Manson – “Look At Your Game Girl”








