Mayor Gavin Newsom. Not fighting and exciting.

For the past few months rumors have been circulating that the beloved and exciting San Francisco 49ers may move to Santa Clara. Sadly the city's mayor Gavin Newsom has done nothing to prevent this so far (likely preoccupied with combing his hair and chasing the barely-legal waitresses of North Beach).

I have longed for the day when Newsom and I could have a heart-to-heart and discuss these matters personally.

I worked a catering job at City Hall a few weeks back and I was thrilled to discover that Mayor Newsom was going to be in attendance. Perhaps this could be my chance to recitfy this Niner debacle, and voice my displeasure with the cities lack of fighting and exicitingness. Newsome, however, did not show. He was in Milan getting the oil changed in his hair. BLAST! I figured I had missed my oppertunity.

But then a few nights ago as I catered Gordon Getty's birthday party, fate finally delt me a Niner-like 4th qurater hail mary of a second chance to air my grievences. It was Newsom!!! Arm in arm with a pretty blond in a sequined dress that accentuated her fakies. I vowed, this time, I would not leave until I spoke with the Mayor about the 49ers!

As night pressed on my oppertunities were dwindling. I realized that if I was going to say something I had to do it soon. So I put down my drink tray and walked over to his table.

"Excuse me Mr. Mayor. Do you think the Niners are going to make the playoffs?"
Newsome looked at me in all his greasy-haired glory. And then he spoke.
"I would say the Niners chances of making the playoffs are about as good as them staying in this city."
What a punk-ass!
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. Newsom saw I was not pleased.
"I would say it's 50/50". He said, as if that were good enough. It may have been good enough for some, but not for me!
"IT SHOULD BE 100!" I shrieked, "BECAUSE THE NINERS BELONG HERE! THEY'RE ALWAYS FIGHTING AND ALWAYS EXCITING!"

There was no recourse for Newsom. He tried to comfort me with a pat on the back, but a back-pat would not do! I'm not your fucking friend! I am Niner faitful, not the creator of your favorite hair product, and I, like my favorite football team, "will not stop until we win the fight! We're the 49ers, we're dynamite!"

I stormed away, wishing only Vernon Davis was there to stand behind me and do some kind of end-zone victory dance. Penalties be damned!


In the end it was a petty exchange between me and my now mortal enemy, but effective, because the mayor of San Francisco now knows who I am, and will always remember that I am ALWAYS FIGHTING AND ALWAYS EXCITING!

GO NINERS!