-- The Breasts of Sherry Glaser: The protest-y Miss Glaser's comedy and peace activism show runs the gamut from her unsheathed mammary glands to an interpretation of 9/11 and the Twin Towers falling down. Oh my. (Warning: audience participation will occur!) Starts at 7:30 p.m. at The Marsh; $10-15.
SFist Tonight
When The Lights Go Down In The City
This week's shows have an equal emphasis on the old and the new. Mix things up a little by seeing an up-and-comer followed by a living legend or two; it's just the kind of eclectic variety that San Francisco's concert venues have to offer.
Yvesdroppings' Mom
-- On the 33 in the Haight
When The Lights Go Down In The City
We’ve been on tour of sorts this week, but since it’s for our day job we regret to inform you that there’s nothing very rock about it. We are happy to say that we’re meeting some fellow –ists along the way though. Last night we met and chatted with Kyle and Nicole from DCist. We commiserated with Kyle about the burden of keeping up too many blogs (check out his excellent music blog Information Leafblower) and listened with envy about his plans to cover the Pitchfork Music Festival this weekend. Tonight we’ll be meeting some Chicagoists, which makes us think we should create some sort of dorky visualization out of which –ists we’ve met/haven’t yet met, something like those cardboard maps for collecting state quarters.
Bay Area Blog Pulse
The local blogosphere seems to have shaken off their collective hangover, so lots to discuss today. Om Malik pours cold water on the Google PC rumor, points toward Google Video and says "getting warmer." An ever bigger rumor is that Microsoft might swallow Yahoo whole. Meanwhile, Evil Signtist Courtney lauds Google for shouting out Louis Braille on his birthday. And Nivi asks that you "Donate to Wikipedia if You Love Your Mom." Alternately, donate if you love your therapist or your best friend Jim Beam.
The SFist Guide To Election 2005: The Local Stuff
Your Mom: Come in out of the cold right this minute young lady and put on your raincoat. I don't care that it itches; it's damp and windy out there and I didn't raise you just to catch pneumonia every time there's a drizzle. What would the neighbors say if they saw you cavorting around out there in the rain like a sea lion?

