San Fran, Day 2

Day 2, Day 2, Day 2. My most flagrant memory of day two was the drunk, pedophile that followed us around the ferry to Alcatraz. Imagine, a man. Tall, a little gangly with thinning, greasy hair done up in a scraggly, hap-hazard comb over. His clothes are a size too big and he appears toContinue reading “San Fran, Day 2”