Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

A sorrier lot you'd never seen than the group hanging around Sherlock's Haven lately. They had imagined parades and marching bands and beautiful young girls in white dresses, cheering and blowing kisses, but the reality was more like Guantanamo prisoners sitting on the Group W bench. They possessed all the cheer of a band of convicts taking their last smoke before facing the firing squad. Or the man who just came across the life insurance policy he didn't know his wife had taken out on him.

For that final bastion of unspeakable vice, Sherlock's, was shuttering its doors on Friday.

Little Stevie was coughing up a lung because he'd accidentally inhaled some fresh air from outdoors. Ravin' Dave babbled on, descending further into his private and smokeless Idaho. Ageless Volvo George (pictured above) looked like he'd added 20 years. The Eggman arranged and rearranged his "survival" bag like Armageddon was scheduled for 7 AM tomorrow morning. True to his Sicilian roots, Mr. C contemplated having someone bumped off only he didn't know who. The Makster's sanity was feared for and it was rumored that he might disappear, monklike, into the dank abode of his garage. Even Crazy Marty had the downcast countenance of a fellow who realized that his Cary Grant good looks had deteriorated to Piltdown man. They drank heavily, believing that reality was only for wusses who couldn't handle alcohol.

And try though they might, none could rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I Heard Voices

There's a lot of voices being heard these days. Yeah, voices, the kind of voices that tell crazy people to do all kinds of crazy shit.

Frankly, I have a few questions about these voices. The folks who hear the voices often say something like "God's voice told me to do it" or "these voices kept telling me things." The funny thing is the voices, at least as far as I have been able to determine, always tell the "crazy" person to do something really bad. What's up with that?

Why is it that the voices never say to do something good? Why is it that we never hear of someone who claims "yeah, I heard this voice, I think it was God's voice, and the voice said 'raise your children well and make sure they get a good education and pay your taxes and send $20 to the Red Cross for Katrina Relief'"?

How come no gun-wielding drug dealers ever say "I was gonna cap that fucker's ass but then I heard a voice from God told me to stop the violence"?

Doesn't it seem like the messages from these voices should be split 50/50 between good stuff and bad? Tell me if I'm wrong, but I never heard anybody say voices told him to do something wonderful for the world.

After pondering all this for a while, I realized that I was hearing a voice. Maybe even the voice of a god. Like the voice of the ancient Mayan tobacco god, Maximon. Now that I think about it, I'm positive I heard it. His voice told me, "go smoke a cigar".



















So don't even complain about my smoke. I heard the voice of Maximon.

The End of the World As We Know It

This distraught tobacco lover has just realized that (gasp!) Sherlock's Haven in San Francisco is closing and soon.

If, like us, your first thought was "fuck, now where will I smoke?", you have but one course of action. Reply here.

That simple step will insure that you get up-to-the-minute, totally free (unless we can figure out how to charge you) information on the acitivities of the gang of misfits formerly known as Sherlock's Haven patrons.

Act now. Don't delay. Sent us money if you're that stupid. Tell your so-called friends.

And When I Die

Sure, Urban Services YMCA does fantastic work for kids all over San Francisco. And, true, the May 12 wine auction was a huge fund raiser for Urban Services. But when I die, I want to go to Urban Services heaven.

Hey, Osama, I'll call your 72 virgins and raise you six American girls.

One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer

Six bottles of single malt scotch whiskey. Eight fifths of bourbon. Twenty-seven delightful wines. Sprinkle in some rum and a splash of port. Food courtesy of Oliveto's. Countless cigars of every variety. Hell, there was even water, a chemical compound rarely seen around this group of degenerates.

Crazy Marty should retire more often.

Not that anyone is going to be happy once Sherlock's Haven closes its doors on May 27. Not that anyone feels good about new owners opening a smoke-free tobacco shop in June. No, it was a bittersweet afternoon: happy that Crazy Marty will get some rest; pissed that one of the top ten tobacco shops in the world will be closed.

See it all here.

Spill Wine, Dig That Girl

With our deep and abiding concern for social causes of all types, Critical Cloud is always looking for ways to blend the pursuit of vice with positive community benefit. Usually this benefit takes the form of the ever vigilant Anne pointedly asking el Greco, "goddammit, are you having another drink?" Presumably, society is somehow spared from calamity by this question.

This time, though, we're pleased to let you know that you can drink wine and help kids and meet women all at the same time! Too good to believe? Oh, ye of little faith. Urban Services YMCA has come to your rescue with their Wine Tasting and Silent Auction on Friday, May 12 at the Caldwell Snyder Gallery in San Francisco.

Last year's event was easy on the palate. This year's event should be even better featuring wines from Arrowood, Clos du Val, EOS, Kendall Jackson, Meredith Family, Mumm, Ravenswood, Sterling, and St. Supery among others.

Last year's event was easy on the eyes, too. Get your ass over there on Friday. Spill wine. Dig that girl.

El Greco Released Unharmed by SF Green Party Terrorists

San Francisco, CA--Assorted bar owners and cigarette smugglers offered up thanks and a communal sigh of relief upon hearing that media darling and bon vivant, el Greco, was released unharmed by a secret San Francisco-based Green Party terrorist cell. Rumors had been swirling for the last month about both el Greco's whereabouts and the unusual dearth of postings to the world renowned blog Critical Cloud.

Held in an undisclosed location for the past month, el Greco was unable to comment and report on vice in San Francisco. The absence of his insightful and penetrating opinions attracted barely a wimper from the online community, although Crazy Marty was pretty annoyed that el Greco disappeared without settling up his outstanding smoking tab at Sherlock's Haven.

El Greco's release was brokered by an anonymous internet commentator whose identity remains secret. There are, however, indications that the commentator was the same individual who was able to secure journalist Jill Carroll's release from an Iraqi terrorist group last March. In speaking after his release, el Greco stated, "I was held for some time, weeks I believe, with neither booze nor tobacco and had to survive on only food and water. It was inhumane and I am so glad to be back home again."