Hanging out at the 19th Hole, Clement Street:
What does this say to you – does it say rich man-child?
(Also, why are young well-to-do bachelors moving to the somnolent Outer Richmond? IDK, but they’re here now, that’s for sure.)
Maserati used to be rare. Not no more.
Here’s the scene without any arrows pointing things out:
And here are the arrows:
And here are the bros:
Now it could be that bro was just checking out his own pad using his new toy, but man, some people might have been surprised if they saw this drone hovering just outside their windows.
The drone slowly increased altitude to rooftop level and I didn’t stick around to see where it went next.
This is How We Live in 2015…
Male bonding since 1921:
Of all the insults Bill McKinley has endured over the years, this has got to be the worst.
Don’t say side-boob, don’t say side-boob…
Now if you filled the hula hoop up with something, there’s a chance that could you impart enough momentum to toss it up there.
But if this is just a regular, unaltered hoop, then a drone is prolly what these, these urban thugs used.
And our somewhat corrupt RPD is now droneless, oh no!
I call for a General Atomics MQ-9 Reaper to loiter above the eastern portion of the GGP Panhandle, you know, an armed patrol, to show the tech bros that WE MEAN BUSINESS!
And who are the prime suspects? It’s these two, recently spotted loitering near the monument:
And if not them, then it was this crew.