i'm sexist

but i'm right: women are not funny.

now some feminista might counter with the ellen degenereses and tina feys of the world. but remember, we're not talking about women who are funnier than the average woman, we're talking about women who are genuinely, laugh out loud, belly aching, bladder distracting funny. say dave chapelle, chris rock, jerry seinfeld, jon stewart etc.

so if and when you're lucky enough to find some girl who really has it, she's a keeper.

being that it is christmas, try this at home. ask your siblings about the funniest female person in their life (for accurate results, female significant others should not be present). then look around and observe the confounded looks that appear on the faces of those around you as they desperately search their memories for someone that even somewhat fits the charge.

maybe i should consider myself lucky. i have ran across the rare breed that is the humor-producing woman. and as chance had it, she shared her sensible theory to explain the scarcity. humor, unlike femininity, big tits and a hemispherical backside, is not valued in women. hence it goes unnurtured. and once females find they are unrewarded for the trait, they fail to incorporate it into their personality.

now, in my mind, this is unquestionably true. on the other hand, it doesn't constitute a complete explanation either. if it were, we wouldn't know what polonium or radium was. but of course madame curie did indeed identify these two elements, which leads us to the question of why there hasn't been a truly funny woman to emerge from the woodwork. in the end, it's only intellectually honest to conclude that there must be another factor, biological being the most obvious, that contributes to the female disposition for humorlessness.

i leave you with this statistic: 2.25. that is how many funny women i've run across in my short 29 and one-half years. whether that makes me lucky or not, i've yet to determine.

the panhandle's shining star

a short while back, i debated with a friend of mine where the good restaurants in san francisco were located and which neighborhoods played the haves and have nots. we didn't agree on everything (i dissed his home neighborhood, north beach, while giving props to the mission and marina), but there was little argument that the panhandle was severely lacking.

one restaurant can't change that fact, but the opening of nopa at hayes and divisadero certainly marks an effective first step. pick day of the week and one will still find the restaurant teeming with patrons, nearly all of whom seem to be chatting enthusiastically over a glass of wine. all the chatter means private conversations have to occur at raised vocal levels, but it also lends a festive ambience to the restaurant ideal for combatting the malaise that follows a mundane work day. the wide open space and exposed kitchen only add to this fact.

however, not all was perfect with the meal. The dishes generally shined, but the service ranged from curt to downright icy. the hostess nearly left my friend and i behind as she weaved through the crowds as if there were an unannounced race to our table. and the gelid blonde couldn't even manage a smile as she handed us our menus before skirting away. and though the service never lagged, at times it felt like we were being prodded through our meal in order to free our table for other patrons. our server gave terse explanations to my inquiries about the wine list and left the check halfway through dessert without ever asking if i desired a cup of coffee or a glass of port to accompany my sorbet.

still, the shortcomings of the service did little to detract from enjoyment of entrees like the mediterranean fish stew, which comes heaped with baby golden potatoes, squid and served in a hearty rouille. however, the real star of the meal is the seared black cod, a generous cut that your fork slides right through served with a crispy skin that adds a richness to the white fish. it's only the beef carpaccio with which i have qualms over the preparation. the meat is exceptionally fresh and with its topping creme fraiche achieved a buttery richness. however, the beef was sliced so thin it degenerated into a pile of mush while trying to extract it from the plate's surface.

even before i dined at nopa, i'll admit to being a fan. as much as the panhandle needs good restaurants, but the city of san francisco needs quality dining options that stay open past midnight (nopa serves until 1 a.m. daily) all the more. the food itself virtually guaranteed a return visit, but the extended hours means it earns a spot in the regular rotation.

13, 12, 11...all good things come to an end

over the past year, i've made a point of mentioning the wire every time the subject of tv arises in conversation. i do so because no other piece of viewing entertainment, whether on the big or small screen, even approaches the greatness of the series. it's the best thing on television. sadly it's also the best show on television no one watches. so i do my best to spread my word, because others deserve to share in that quality. and also in the hopes, faint as they may be, that a season six may somehow come to bear if a few more people start tuning in or buying the dvds.

and like i say to those i hope to convert, i wish i still had four seasons to catch up on.