Monday, January 30, 2012

It's been a while since I PUMPED A KEG...

"I'm 26," I said confidently to the adorable Middlebury graduate I had been chatting with all night.  "How old are you?" I asked him.  "I'm 23," he responded.  From the minute he uttered those words I knew this relationship would be short-lived.  Firstly, because it was based on a lie - I am not 26 and secondly, because his breath was less than ideal; But he had a full set of teeth and laughed at all my jokes. Jesus, have these become my only credentials??

I'll give you some background: Last weekend me and my late twenty-something pals ventured into a party we'd heard about through a mutual friend.  The moment I walked into it I immediately began having flashbacks of SAE and Sigma Nu keg parties at Ole Miss that I attended circa 7 years ago. <minus the suffocatingly potent Southern accents, confederate flags and shorter than short khaki shorts donned by the "brothers.">  I felt old and awkward but my friend Sarah was in town visiting so I had to show her a good time.  I brushed off my "senior" insecurities and decided to let loose, headbang and have fun amongst the recent college grads (and by "recent" I mean class of 2011). 

Enter: Scott. or was it Steve? Whatever. All I knew was he was cute, smart, preppy but not in a douchey way, and he seemed to be paying attention to me.  Oh yeah, and as I mentioned before - he was 23. Long story shart, I ended up going back to his place  to play video games as his roommates were having people over.  The minute I set foot in his apartment I knew I wouldn't be staying for long.  Tapestries, ramen, comic books - oh my! I felt like Mary Kay Letourneau. The place was one bunk bed away from being a legit summer camp cabin. I felt like Carrie in that episode of Sex and the City (minus the nose and puns) when she dates that young comic book writer with the fried chicken.  
here's hoping there's still hope for us single gals. SJP, you're kind of frightening me in this pic.
Why is this story relevant? I'll tell you: we are embarking on Bachelor/ Bachelorette week here at Toe Pick SF as a way to try and help all you single, late twenty/ early thirty somethings living in SF.  It is becoming borderline unbearable to be a single person in a city filled with gay men, hermaphordites, PDA-ing couples, Ted Kazinski lookalikes, gel-head Marina douches, 22 year-olds, drag queens and dead heads.  I hope that my Bachelor/ Bachelorette entries will give all of you singles out there hope - there actually are cute single people left in this city filled with such a motley assemblage of humans.  

Now for some TOE PICKS of the week. Enjoy my snapshots:

1. Boner on the Bus
this photo doesn't do "it" justice - but you get the point: The Muni bus is not big enough to pitch a tent in - take it outside buddy.
2. Don't Pick a pole to reaffirm your wedgie (wish i could take cred for this)

Add caption
3. Don't pick: a Bud Light hat
This girl rocked this makeshift bud light box hat all night last weekend. It was an amazing show of confidence.  It's actually a Do Pick now that I think about it. Nice work, sister.

DO PICK's: 1.Wine cooler contraption that looks like a sex toy turkey baster.  Thanks Wiwy.
2. Do Pick: beautiful, dense fog blanketing the Bay like it was last Friday morning.  I'll gladly sacrifice straight, frizz free locks for a view like this.  

Ok - I gotta get back to watching "Sexting in Suburbia" on Lifetime.  Hope this entry got you jazzed for Bachelor/ Bachelorette week here on Toe Pick!

xo, Nige

PS. almost forgot: I'd like to share with you this gem of a facebook message I received last week.  Doesn't get much better than this folks:

January 26
Greg Schundler
  • Have you found a formidable mating partner for the next generation's sake?

    My cheekbones are high. My SAT scores impressive. Good muscle tone and very fluent in languages/music.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

C'mon people: Give me your Nominees for top 20 SF Bachelor's & Bachelorettes!!!

Hey tricks!

Just a reminder: I need your help - I want to have my top 20 SF Bachelors/Bachelorettes segment completed in two weeks! I can't do it without your nominees so if you know of anyone you think is a catch and lives in SF/ Bay Area and would be interested in being featured in what will surely be my biggest TOE PICK EVER then let me know! And boys - don't be shy, I can assure you this will work wonders for your "game."  So far I am not having an issue with girls wanting to participate. (shocker. thanks ladies.)

E-mail me at with your suggestions.  Be sure to include the nominees' email address so I can begin the invasive interview process. Also, please include whether or not you'd like to be cited as the nominee source.

Help me get this party sharted!
Appreciate all your support and advisement.

xo, Nige

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

The End of A HAIR-A (a solemn farewell to Headbanging)

Oh how I wish there were more hours in a day I could devote to Toe Pick.  It seems like I always end up here at midnight lying (is it lying or laying?) in bed trying to drown out the sound of my cackling, stoner neighbor as I write.  Also, the tenant above takes a shower at 12:30 am on the dot every night/morning - like clockwork. So this is what I fall asleep to: a humored woman with an atrocious laugh and a monsoon of shower water trickling overhead.  It has become my music every night and I'm actually sharting to adjust to it.  I close my eyes and try and pretend like the shower water is a tropical thunderstorm and I'm slumbering in a tin roofed bungalow in Tahiti with Johnny Depp. <Try being the operative word.>

I am sleepy so this entry will be shart and sweet.

I am a firm believer in the proverbial saying: don't dish it out if you can't take it.  In fact, this is my primary sentiment when it comes to Toe Pick.  For example: When a woman wearing neon Doc Martins coupled with tie dye fishnets on the muni sits across from me, I am going to take a photo.  She obviously wants to catch someone's eye by wearing this ensemble and she has done just that.  I look at my compilation of FuglyMuniShoes/ scarves/ hair/ piercings/ etc. as more of a testament to this colorful, wildly accepting star of a city and not so much as a way to put people down.  That being said, I understand I may come off as critical to those of you whose SOH differs from my own, so let me tell you my embarrassing story of last weekend to kind of even out the playing field.  Criticize away.

It was last Saturday night. I waltzed over to Kristal at the bar slyly, trying to look cool for the 4 nimrod guys I found cute through my beer goggles cute boys sitting at the bar.  I made like Willow Smith and whipped my hair back and forth (not sure why I find this to be an arousing dance move after a couple cocktails. don't shart with me.)  I must have been headbanging at a rather heavy pace because I somehow tripped and propelled forward, inserting myself head first into a tall trash can.  I pulled myself out somehow and ran outside to process what had just happened.  It was as if I was in one of those cartoons where one of the characters slips on a banana peel and eats shit.  Waking up on Sunday with a sore neck and bruised dignity has been sufficient enough for me to finally hang up my headbanging hat.  Maybe I should learn the fox trot as a replacement?

that's meeeee!
Last weekend I also made like Ariel and brushed my hair with a fork:

I've got whozits and whats-its GALORE

which ALMOST tops last year when I tried to eat a houseplant at a friend's party. I'm a big LAND BEFORE TIME fan but this is a bit extreme:

Having shared all of this I believe I have earned my right to post this without being thought of as a critical worm.  My conscience is clean. 
What's black, white, red, stood in front of me in line and ordered a 2 foot-long steak and cheese sub with extra bacon at Subway last Monday? Her.
Ok. I've focused a bit too much on myself in this post. Sorry to be self-indulgent. (Is it too late to apologiiiize?) This will all change as I am working hard on my Bachelor/ Bachelorette's of San Francisco story.  If you want to nominate someone (It can even be yourself. don't be embarrassed - I won't tell.) please, for the love of Gwendalyn, let me know! e-mail me at

I am going to try and get some shut-eye but it will be challenging because one of my dearest friends, Sarah is coming in from NYC tomorrow and I am so excited I have been making like Amanda Knox and doing cartwheels.  Bad joke?

Have a scrumptious Hump-Day tomorrow.
xo, Nige

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Brown Eyed Women and Red Grenadine

For as long as I live I will never forget the morning of October 27th, 2008.  My dad tapped on my bedroom door, beckoning me to wake up for my 5 am one-way flight from Dulles to SFO.  I gathered my suitcases, packed them into my mom's car, kissed my dogs good-bye and was on my way. The day I moved to California was the most surreal day of my life in part because it was a BIG move but mostly because I had made the decision to pack up and leave my tiny, Anne Frank-esque Georgetown apartment only one week prior to this day.  The opportunity to leave a life I wasn't super crazy about had presented itself and without hesitation I took it.  And at the risk of sounding dramatic and corny - it was the best decision I've ever made.  I owe a lot to my impulsivity.  Without it, I wouldn't have moved to San Francisco or done that 6 week NOLS course in Australia.  I wouldn't have frolicked through the streets of Hayes Valley with Adam Duritz at 6 am singing ABBA to random pedestrians. In many situations, my lack of adequate forethought has afforded me some really great experiences - it is also responsible for Toe Pick.  I began writing this on a whim and now it is my favorite thing to do.

Impulse Decisions that resulted in worthwhile experiences
1. NOLS - never would I have done it if I had given it an ounce of thought beforehand.  I made like Nike I just did it. enjoy these visuals from Australia.

wouldn't want to be too impulsive around this motherforker
hangin with aboriginal lambs.


c o o l

2. I never would have experienced fun mini adventures if I wasn't impulsive. Case in point:



Living in the moment and acting on impulse is one of my best qualities and also one of my worst.  Oftentimes, especially when it comes to dealing with members of the opposite sex, I have no censor, filter or clue.  I will blurt out whatever surfaces in my brain and this can lead to trouble.  Similarly, in an effort to squash awkward silences on a dreaded date I will ask asinine, random questions which have proven to make my dinner companions skittish (skittish is my chosen euphemism for uncomfortable).

Do you have any pets?
Do you like egg rolls?
What size shoe do you wear?
What is your favorite day of the week?
What is your favorite meat?
Do you know where toll booth workers park?

seriously. where do you park? are you airlifted? 
How do snakes mate?
Is that a chin hair on your forehead?
Do you mind if my guy friend joins us?
Did you know dentists have the highest suicide rate of any profession?
Did you know Charles Manson and Ted Kazinski used to be cellmates?

I am lectured by friends and my mom on a pretty frequent basis about stepping up my game in the dating world.  Apparently I need to learn the nuances, complexities, do's and don't's of a courtship.  Fortunately, my dating skills (or lack of) coincide with what I am trying to accomplish these days - and that is to make Toe Pick funnier, more entertaining and interesting to the average reader. I have agreed to go on a date next week with a seemingly interesting (strange) guy whom I "met" on an impossibly cheesy dating website. This is one of those instances where my awkwardness and impulsive word vomit will come in handy.  "Don't risk getting killed for your blog!" Kristal shouted at me over the phone.  Not to worry - I will meet this brave gentleman at a well-lit place ( I was going to suggest Walgreens, perhaps??) and I have enlisted some friends to pseudo join me by dining nearby.  Stay tuned...

I realized I haven't reported too much on FuglyMuniShoes, strange SF sightings and overall randomness in awhile so let's get it sharted in here.  Enjoy my snapsharts!
It's a Scarf... it's a Fox... its a SCOX!

In this moment on the bus I was irritated that my face was ThisClose to this human's crotch

I thought pants were mandatory on the Muni.  Guess not.

TOE PICK NOTES. talk about random.  


this isn't ugly as much as it is confusing.  why do I have a little trash can connected to a bigger one?  what is the purpose? enlighten me.

Peace on an escalator

 Buckingham Palace guard gone wrong?

Mustard tights = Musights.
COOLEST OUTFIT/ VIBE of the week award goes to Jane!!! congrats GF.

it was very risky taking a photo of this big guy.  lemme tell ya.

I am tired.  Good night. 


Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Don't Drop Your Soap!

"Whatcha lookin' so confused for sweeeetie?" A good looking, muscly gay man tapped me on the shoulder as I stood in the middle of the gym, looking around at all the equipment like a lost toddler.  The stereos were blaring an "unz unz unz" pulsing techno song that only added to my disorientation.  Everywhere I turned I saw sweating, rock hard bodies in motion, working the equipment like pros.

dun dun dun
I have a feeling I'm not at CRUNCH anymore, I thought to myself.  Enter: Equinox Gym.  My new sanctuary. The Equinox is a step up from Crunch, in terms of niceness and size (that's what she said), and definitely in terms of intimidation.

"I...I'm looking for the elliptical machines," I stuttered. The muscly man rolled his eyes, put his hand on my shoulder and guided me out of the way of the intensely earnest exercisers. "The elliptical isn't going to do shit for you, sweetie. The elliptical is a copout. Has anyone given you a tour?" he asked. ", not yet." I replied, somewhat taken aback by his abrasiveness. And sweatiness. And muscles.

Fast forward a few minutes and this muscly gay man is my new trainer: RAUL.  I am about as good at working out in a gym as Kim Kardashian is at being married and not being a giant Chafe. My first session is tomorrow morning at 7 am.  Let the games begin.

The actual gym itself isn't the only thing that intimidates me.  ENTER: The ladies locker room.  I ventured in there after my eighteen 90 minute workout on the elliptical and almost choked on my Smart Water.  Picture the most awkward girl ever (moi) surrounded by hordes of naked women.  I assume I will get more comfortable the more I go to Equinox but as of now I am traumatized and astounded by the amount of bare bodies I saw this evening.  It was as if I was swimming in a sea of areolas.  It kind of reminded me of whenever I'm on a turbulent flight: all the other passengers are calm and acting as though every thing is peachy f*cking keen while I sit in my middle seat <34E> clutching the fat person's arm next to me and reciting the Our Father over and over again.  All the other ladies seemed completely at ease with the amount of candor and immodesty permeating the locker room while I felt like I was having an awkward nightmare. Hopefully in about 20 years in a month I will be okay with the whole "being surrounded by masses of naked women" thing.  But if you remember my experience at Harbin, you'll know not to hold your breast breath. click here for a refresher of my "balls" encounter. must read.
awkward to tha max
Anyways.  My Toe Pick wheels are constantly turning and with every new experience I have my brain is working overtime to somehow parlay these experiences into Toe Pick material.  The Equinox is going to broaden my material immensely.  Ahh the possibilities are aplenty: FuglyGymShoes, FuglyGymTats, FuglyGymBushes, you get the picture.   

Moving on. I'd like to introduce you to a segment I like to call: Texts from Last Night. I know - that title's taken but my mind is still numb from all the areola exposure earlier.  So, it will have to suffice for now.  I got a series of funny text messages two nights ago from a really funny, persistent person who shall remain anonymous.

This posting is pretty risque, I will admit.  Oh well, I guess complete and total honesty is the breast policy.  Pun intended. Check ya laterrrr.

xo, Nige

Monday, January 9, 2012

Beautifully Broken: A tribute to a Wild Horse named Piola

I rarely write a somber Toe Pick post - but it is monday morning, I don't have enough time to blow dry my fro, last night I had a dream I was lost in the ocean by myself and I just heard REM's "everybody hurts" on Pandora. Needless to write: I'm not feeling very comedic.

Just checking in quickly to pay my respects to the late Piola Bunting, my mom's beloved horse of 18 years. My mother's devotion to and adoration for Piola was immeasurable and unparalleled. There is nothing harder than losing your favorite animal, especially one as magnificant as Piola.  Her grace, her beauty and her spunk will be remembered and missed today, tomorrow and always.  

Thinking of you, mom.

 Piola Bunting
May she Rest in Peace

Lady Di in her element
in memoriam
Blue harnessed Piola
Have a happy day and give your pet some extra love today.
xo, Alexandra 

Friday, January 6, 2012

And you Say he's Just a Friend... Featuring My New Years Resolutions Part DEUX

It's Friday! I am tired.  The perpetual giggler who lives next door to me and sits on her back steps <which happen to be directly outside my window> was howling up a storm last night.  Either she is always stoned, or she is listening to Chris Rock on her headphones and laughing to herself, because I don't hear anyone else but her: THE LONE CACKLER.  I didn't have the ballz to tell her to shut it so I lay in bed staring at my ceiling for the better part of the night huffing, puffing, tossing and turning.  She laughed until 3 am until finally the laughter subsided and I was able to slumber.  Why am I telling you all this?  Because it is the perfect segway into today's entry: the Remainder of my New Years Resolutions. Let us go ahead and shart where we left off, shall we?

I am pretty sure this is the a photo of my cackling neighbor.  Yep, it's her alright.

6. I resolve to complain less and to be more assertive.  As you can see - I have a tendency to complain about things that I have control over.  I easily could have peered out my window and told Miss Cackle to take her antics inside but instead I let her keep me awake. And now I am so exhausted I'm about to faceplant onto my keyboard.  This is going to change in 2012: I am going to be positive, optimistic and up front. I will no longer sulk when I am unsuccessful at taming my cowlick in the morning; instead, I will be grateful that I have hair.  I will not grimace or hold my breath when a big, burly homeless man pushing a ginormous shopping cart filled with old rags, banana peels, empty soda cans and a giant old boom box blaring Grateful Dead strolls past me on the sidewalk.  Instead, I will smile at him and tell him I hope he has a great day.

and it's JUST a box of rain... and a shopping cart with brown, smelly blankets. Nothing to frown upon.
7.  I will be more thrifty.  I am already getting this resolution off to a great shart.  After work I am heading straight to the Super Cuts on Sacramento Street for a much needed haircut. (according to Lady Di I resemble an orphan with my current 'do. hmph.) For lunch I will pick up a Fiiiii Dollaaa Fooot Loonng from Subway instead of my favorite 15$ Mixt Greens salad.  I will throw a penny in the fountain when I make a wish instead of a dollar.  You get the picture.  

5...5...5 dollaaa foooot lonnng is ca-ca-ca-catching on

8. I will swim to Alcatraz.  I can't believe I've been here for almost 4 years and haven't been to Alcatrazzle. PLUS, one of my favorite flicks is SO I MARRIED AN AX MURDERER. Who can forget that classic scene when Phil Hartman plays the pervert guide named "Vicky" and takes Mike Myers ("Charrrlie") on a tour of the Traz? I certainly can't.
Oh how I wish Vicky could give me a tour of Alcatraz.

9. I will adopt a dog.  This might be my most important resolution.  No more visiting the ASPCA and leaving empty-handed - 2012 is going to the year I finally take the plunge. Besides, I think SF dog owners are beginning to get a little annoyed and uncomfortable when I scurry up to their pooches on the street and freak out over them.  I neeeed a dog.  

You will be mine.
10.  I will try harder to be kind to everyone I encounter, even the FuglyMuniShoe wearers.  Because at the end of the day, it is not what you wear on your feet that matters; it's whether or not you like or dislike egg rolls and Axl Rose that is truly important.

Oh. Speaking of: Hi Egg Roll and Axl. 

Ok. That does it for my NYR's. What are yours? I'd love to hear 'em.  Also, have any funny photos of the American public? E-mail them to me at  Please note whether or not you'd like them to be anonymous. Hope everyone has a splendid weekend.

xo, Nige

Wednesday, January 4, 2012


New Years Resolutions:  I have never been good at keeping them... or any resolutions in general for that matter.  For example, last week I resolved to construct a year-end review for Toe Pick and I failed to do so.  So, today I will aim to combine these two aforementioned topics by using past Toe Pick entries as  my New Years Resolution guide.  TWO BIRDS: DEAD. METHOD OF KILLING: ONE STONE.  This will also give readers an opportunity to take a stroll down TPSF's memory lane.  I am going to cut this entry up into 2 segments. Here are 5/10th's of my NYR's.

1.  I resolve to spend more time exploring all that the Bay Area has to offer.  I will spend less time in the Marina and on Union Street (Perry's.) I will visit the MOMA, the aquarium, Half-moon Bay, and Stinson Beach. I will dine at restaurants in the Castro and the Mission. As I peruse through past entries I realize how little I have touched on restaurants in SF. This must change.

buh-bye stale breadsticks. i will only be seeing you twice a week now instead of 4 x's 

The Castro is the heartbeat of SF - Do you realize what great TPSF material I could find in this colorful, eccentric playground?
2. I will swear less.  No one likes a potty mouth.  Growing up with two older brothers certainly did nothing to encourage ladylike vocabulary. "Learn to express yourself!" my mom always says whenever I use a bad word to describe something.  Here's to not having a foul mouth in 2012, numbnuts.  With that being said, I would like to commemorate my past years of cursing with my favorite illustration of all time. (featured in a TPSF entry back in April)
3. You may remember this incident back in March when I was so keen on having straight hair that I allowed an amateur hairdresser to sabotage my tresses beyond belief -->click here for a refresher. Since this mishap occurred, I have actually made some noteworthy progress in letting go of my straight hair obsession. I even left my Chi in Florida at Kristal's about 5 months ago and sometimes don't even blow-dry my fro.  If the homeless guy down the street can get away with blowing snot rockets at random passers-by (is that a word?) then dog-gonnit (see what I did there - I'm already cleaning up my mouth) I can walk the streets looking like Ronald Mc-f'ing-Donald.
bye bye stick-straight locks

hello pube curly head. love you Dorris - but I will never stop showcasing this picture
4. I will be more accepting of the opposite sex and of the American pube-lic in general.  There have been a number of people who have told me I use the word "dealbreaker" far too much with regard to the male species, muni riders, etc.  I am not perfect, you're not perfect, the guy on the Muni rocking the reverse widow's peak and black pleather Dr. Scholl's is not perfect and Jamie Lee Curtis certainly isn't perfect - so let us all unite and bask in our imperfections together instead of being critical of one another. I would like to share with you some gems I have snapped over the past year.  Remember these?




kathy griffin?

photos of your cats stitched into your jacket? YES.

If you're bored and would like to check out TPSF's Dealbreaker archives, click below:




more dealbreakers for HIM


5.  I will chill out on the spray tans.  Need. I. Say. More?

OH. HI TWIN --> 

Ok, that does it for today. Stay tuned for the rest of my NY's ressies in a few days.  (another resolution: try not to use the word "ressies" again.) Until next time...
XO, Nige