Mmmmmmmm, Soma

It’s occurred to us, as these things do in passing, that we’ve been a little East-Coast centric, belying our semi-rural Oregon upbringing in favor of our nasty NJ education. Time to fix that. If we had money and/or the Concorde still flew, and, if it did, could be convinced to fly west instead of east, then we’d go tomorrow to San Francisco’s Hotel des Arts to celebrate the art-ification of ten new rooms (of the boutique’s 51). We’re most psyched for Buff Monster and Mark the Cobrasnake (we’ve got kindof a bad case for words), but the general underground awesomeness of it all makes us reconsider our absolute disdain for hipster doofus artiness. Hotel des Arts, 447 Bush at Grant, RSVP to