Pier 39, while an absolute tourist trap, was a whole load of fun. We started with the aquarium and saw lots of jellyfish.

Lots and lots of jellyfish.

Then there was the Jaws III (it’s a film, people, it deserves roman numerals)-esque tunnel-o-death where we got to see, “SHARKS, MOMMY, SHARKS!”

“THAT’S A BIIIIIG ONE SHARK, MOMMY! THAT’S A BIIIIIG ONE!”

And an octopus. At least, they said it was an octopus and I saw those funky tentacle things moving but…can anyone tell me where the octopus is in this picture because I really can’t see it.

Ohhh! Now…I…see…it? Maybe? (Oddly, this is what happened when I leveled the above picture.)

After that, we headed down for an extremely expensive frozen coffee on our way to the Red and White fleet boat trip.

The boy was not impressed with the hour long line or the people who ruthlessly cut in front of us after we waited in said hour long line. I have a picture I could post of the cutters who should clearly be shunned and pelted with rotten fish, but I’m thinking maybe I have too much class to do such a thing.

Nor with the Golden Gate Bridge (he slept through it).

And was only later impressed by the seals when we watched them while having lunch. (Let’s pretend like this and the previous picture are not wonky from taking it through a water drop covered boat window while becoming ridiculously sea sick.)

After damn near puking for about an hour, I got a picture of the most beautiful chicks and hens I’ve ever seen. Yes, I really am that much of a dork.

Since the last thing I want to leave everyone with is an impression of me as a major horticulture dork, here are the people who cut in front of us. Shun them. Smite them. Pelt them with rotten fish.

I bow easily to self-imposed peer pressure to be cool.