He's baaack

Like a toxic bird flying south for the winter to San Juan Cap, KFOG has returned.

KFOG's name is Anthony. We call him KFOG because he listens to that station all day and all night while he sits outside smoking pot and yapping on his cell phone. KFOG is the kind who loves everyone. Especially the many, many people who he likes to call. KFOG apparently has limitless cell minutes. One morning, Adam heard him say: "I just wanted to tell you you're beautiful, man, and I hope that helps get you through your day."

Yeah. KFOG says shit like that all the time. We're unfortunate enough to have him as a neighbor six months out of the year. While the couple next door goes to their weaving studio in Mexico (it's Berkeley, what the hell do you want?), they offer their place to him. For free. Which is good because KFOG's only apparent source of income is his dubious work as a tennis pro. He also apparently attends school, but I can't imagine when he's in class. He's either loafing off at home, on the court, or at The Pub. We see him there quite frequently and he tries to chat us up. It's like having a snake stuff itself down your throat, while the entire time protesting that it loves you, man.

Spring can't come fast enough around here.