It's going to be 61 in the daytime. Maybe fifties at night when the fog comes in.

I actually can't conceive of this. It's AUGUST.

My brother was right. I should move to SF.

Don't know if we could fit this into Nilly's packaged agenda, but...

from the Bay Guardian Best of:

Best Kosher Gourmet Food

In a so-far short period of existence, Ristorante Raphael has quickly become a mainstay of the downtown Berkeley after-theater dining scene. But don't be surprised if you spy a big-bearded rabbi in a black hat or a crowd of teenagers in yarmulkes and tzitzis hanging at the table next door. The décollage is as striking as it is part of the atmosphere; on a recent night, two tables separated a couple of Mission hipsters arguing about independent film and a couple of rabbis arguing about Talmud. Most surprising of all might be the food. Balsamic-sautéed portobellos, stuffed artichokes, and skewered ahi are antipasti specials to which Raphael does justice. The highest compliment a Jewish mother can pay to a kosher restaurant is "You don't even notice it's kosher!" — a backhanded compliment Raphael nonbackhandedly deserves. The cuisine veers as far from the traditional palate of Italian restaurants as it does from the falafel-and-pizza sameness of, ahem, "traditional" kosher restaurants. 2132 Center, Berk. (510) 644-9500.

You should move to SF.

August is evil hot.

San. Fran. Cis. Co.

You should move to SF.

I'm starting to consider it much more seriously. Bit of an epiphany last night.

August is evil hot.

San. Fran. Cis. Co.

Are you wearing YOUR leather pants?

Are you wearing YOUR leather pants?

I'm certainly bringing them. I imagine there's a very very tiny chance it could actually be hot, but not enough of a chance to not bring the pants.

I don't trust you people. August is evil hot.

Ahem. Need I pull out the Eddie?

And you don’t tell tourists about the weather in July and August. You don’t fucking tell anyone. They’re all going around in summer shirts, going, “Jesus Christ! I can’t see! I can’t see! Fog! There’s fog!” And it really shifts it, your fog! I saw John Carpenter’s film, “The Fog,” seen it a few times, and that fog shifts it. I thought, “Well, that’s Hollywood, that’s fog moving really fast,” but your fog is that speed! ( mimes running ) Busy, busy, busy! It could be late to get in someone’s face somewhere! It runs down the road, doesn’t it? Faster than the fucking taxis! Of which there are five…

But... August. It's like a rule.

I don't live there but I tragically mis-packed once when I went to a conference in San Francisco during August.

I was FREEZING. Every moment of every day.