comedystylings:

Miles K.
Jacket: Gap, from brother
Sweatshirt: Alternative Earth, Jeremy’s
Jeans: Levi’s, Slash Jeans Berkeley
Shoes: Hush Puppies, Zappos.com
Bracelet: handmade from a music festival
more Miles K. here
photo taken last night at the San Francisco Comedy and Burrito Festival

comedystylings:

Miles K.

Jacket: Gap, from brother

Sweatshirt: Alternative Earth, Jeremy’s

Jeans: Levi’s, Slash Jeans Berkeley

Shoes: Hush Puppies, Zappos.com

Bracelet: handmade from a music festival

more Miles K. here

photo taken last night at the San Francisco Comedy and Burrito Festival


Weed! Weeeeeeed! Is it too late to pander to you people?

- Kevin Camia’s opening lines @ Polish Club/420 Show/SFCBF [Paraphrase]

Weed! Weeeeeeed! Is it too late to pander to you people?

- Kevin Camia’s opening lines @ Polish Club/420 Show/SFCBF [Paraphrase]

"I’m sure being late to a 420 show means something."

— Caitlin Gill on the problem being the solution @ Polish Club


Anybody here watch Homeland? One person? Nobody else can afford premium channels? I love a nice, poor audience! 

- J.C. Coccoli @ Sub/Mission [Paraphrase]
[Photo by Andrew Moore]

Anybody here watch Homeland? One person? Nobody else can afford premium channels? I love a nice, poor audience! 

- J.C. Coccoli @ Sub/Mission [Paraphrase]

[Photo by Andrew Moore]


I found out my penis lost its job… If you know of any openings let me know. 

- Randy Liedtke @ Sub/Mission [Paraphrase]

I found out my penis lost its job… If you know of any openings let me know. 

- Randy Liedtke @ Sub/Mission [Paraphrase]


The first time I smoked weed I was a sophomore in college, because what about this doesn’t say “late bloomer”.

- Barbara Holm @ Dark Room Theater [Paraphrase]
[Photo by Marianne Ways]

The first time I smoked weed I was a sophomore in college, because what about this doesn’t say “late bloomer”.

- Barbara Holm @ Dark Room Theater [Paraphrase]

[Photo by Marianne Ways]

liezlwashere:

SF Comedy & Burrito Festival | Sub Mission | 10.12.12 Charles Star 

liezlwashere:

SF Comedy & Burrito Festival | Sub Mission | 10.12.12 

Charles Star 

Favorite Things of Last Night: Kath Barbardoro
[Photo by Steve Rogers]

Favorite Things of Last Night: Kath Barbardoro

[Photo by Steve Rogers]

sfcbf:

Late night comic burrito run! (Taken with Instagram)

sfcbf:

Late night comic burrito run! (Taken with Instagram)

San Francisco Comedy and Burrito Festival Countdown: Ivan Hernandez (“Powerful brown hands delicately remove the tortilla from the grill, a mound of crisp chorizo beside it. Hands which had delivered babies while firing weapons at nationalist armed groups ladle rice upon the flour surface, black beans following in a metaphor for the mixed race relations which had created his people. Avocado sliced in mathematically equal portions lay in parallels atop the mound, green as the fields of Mars before Or’lithikk the Sunderer brought forever desert to the planet. A dollop of sour cream, maintaining its thick consistency and cold despite being encased in heated meats due to a heretofore unexplained quirk of physics. Queso fresco lies across like the rubble left in an eastern European nation after civil strife. The chorizo burns almost black, the grease it emits equivalent to the blubber obtained from an infant gray whale. A spatula slides under the chunk of pig refuse and delivers it unto its cradle. A last bit of salsa completes the equation, spicy enough to register on the palate but mild enough not to upset the blandness of said palate. With movements practiced hundreds of thousands of times to maximize efficiency, hold, and consistency of bite, the burrito forms. And in less time than it takes to sew together this Frankenstein’s Monster of ethnic cuisine, it is eaten.”) [Today!]

San Francisco Comedy and Burrito Festival Countdown: Ivan Hernandez (“Powerful brown hands delicately remove the tortilla from the grill, a mound of crisp chorizo beside it. Hands which had delivered babies while firing weapons at nationalist armed groups ladle rice upon the flour surface, black beans following in a metaphor for the mixed race relations which had created his people. Avocado sliced in mathematically equal portions lay in parallels atop the mound, green as the fields of Mars before Or’lithikk the Sunderer brought forever desert to the planet. A dollop of sour cream, maintaining its thick consistency and cold despite being encased in heated meats due to a heretofore unexplained quirk of physics. Queso fresco lies across like the rubble left in an eastern European nation after civil strife. The chorizo burns almost black, the grease it emits equivalent to the blubber obtained from an infant gray whale. A spatula slides under the chunk of pig refuse and delivers it unto its cradle. A last bit of salsa completes the equation, spicy enough to register on the palate but mild enough not to upset the blandness of said palate. With movements practiced hundreds of thousands of times to maximize efficiency, hold, and consistency of bite, the burrito forms. And in less time than it takes to sew together this Frankenstein’s Monster of ethnic cuisine, it is eaten.”) [Today!]