SUPER EGO Gotta say it: the weekend after a holiday weekend is the best for clubbing. Less pressure, more drink specials, fewer amateurs. Not that I have anything against newbies: like space girls, they're easy, but please. A ton of epic shit I don't remember happened over the Presidents' three-day — hopefully not a Bush threeway — but if it involved the word "epic" I'm certainly glad I don't. Crowded parties are totally my thing (and the gigs I'm recommending below will surely feel cozy). But if I get elbowed in the boob one more time at the bar, I'm gonna go Yoko Ono. Read more »

marke@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO It certainly has not escaped my attention that this whole amazing Arab youth uprising thing is taking place during Fashion Week. It's a mitzvah! But while Hunky Beau and I have been busily rooting through Reuters for inspiring pics of various hipster Egyptsters and Tunisians turnin' in out (or, conversely, signs of any uprising under the Manhattan tents — watch out for Joseph Altuzarra, y'all), I've tried to have more than fast-forward fashionistas in my forethoughts and yummy Yemenis on the Bahrain.Read more »

I don't have a lot of pet peeves — that would break my lease. Other than, say, invading a country for no reason, making fun of people with mental illnesses and addictions, refusing to pay taxes because you think people of color are moochers, or ordering Uggs online, still, not much reliably gets my goat, ties it down with friendship bracelets and Danish dreadlocks, and forces it to listen to Ke$ha remixed by Tiësto while wearing Juicy Couture or Pink by Victoria's Secret.  

Baaa.Read more »

marke@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO "Do you think that rats ... think that bats ... are angels?" cracked tall, curly-haired Brendan Lynch, nicknamed Skeletor for kicks, at the opening night of Big Al's Big Ass Comedy Jam at John Colins on Jan. 19. I'm breaking one of the cardinal rules of comedy journalism ("ha") by giving away a punch line, but Lynch lobbed and landed so many Moebius-like thought-twisters — think Steven Wright minus Valium — I'm sure he won't pummel me too much. Yes, I'm flirting.Read more »

superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO I think we've all agreed to finally bury overused buzzwords like "legendary" and "icon" and "classic" and "mitxirrika" in the cold, cold buzzground. Hype gives me the sneezes. Nevertheless, there are some accomplished parties and DJs making return visits (and, in one case, celebrating a semi-centennial) this week, which and who deserve some fresh superlatives.

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I guess I'm still recovering from New Year's Eve? Wow. Everybody still on a roll put your hands up, aye. This week promises to push us ever deeper into the breach, with several offerings from regular parties to freak all out about — and most important, help shake off the ghosts of your hangover. Forget that whole "raw egg in Tabasco sauce with a spoonful of honey" or whatever. The real remedy for weeks-after hung-up woes is dancing, dancing, dancing. And maybe a little hair of the dog. Or, in my case, a little pug named Jose Cuervo, who somehow snuck in to the club in my sequined baguette. Read more »

One of the most influential, and underreported, trends of San Francisco nightlife in the past few years has been the feisty reinvigoration of the jazz scene. Read more »

superego@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO Dear Baby New Year, can you cut up a lot more lines of that fantastic 2010 stuff? Local nightlife and dance music was off the hot hooker. And if the phalanx of shindigs piled up for New Year's Eve is any indication, there's a glitter-canon's worth of glee to come. Below are my favorites, check 'em out. Thxy! Love, Marke B. (P.S. Er, one more thing ... you've got a little VCR on your leftie. Kids these days!)

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marke@sfbg.com

YEAR IN MUSIC "But not this time. This is our time. This time you're going to hand them a business card that says 'I'm CEO ... bitch!' "Read more »

For John Waters fans (and who isn't one?) this of course makes perfect sense: The Pink Flamingos director and hot-filth raconteur winters in chilly Baltimore, and summers in fog-shrouded San Francisco. "I just love watching the shocked tourists on the cable cars, gripping their cans of Ensure and freezing their asses off," he jokes over the phone with that infamous little cackle. He'll be jetting back here, however, on Sat/11 for "A Sleigh Full of Smut" his one-man Christmas show to benefit the awesome Roxie Cinema, which turned 100 last year. Read more »