Uh oh. If the rumors I hear are true, Naked Music parties at SF's Kelly's Mission Rock may become a monthly shindig. On the upside, that means there'll be a great venue to get a regular infusion of funky, soulful house with great views over the water. The downside? You'll be seeing tons of photos of blurry candles, like those in the entrance of the place.

Ah, yes, the sexy material known as corrugated tin. Before the venue became a restaurant/nightclub, Mission Rock was a bar where dockworkers would come and swill beer. The pre-gentrification days are commemorated in a huge painting on the wall honoring our hard laborers. The drink prices don't seem to pay as much respect to the wage-earner, unfortunately. But it's more than made up for by the breathtaking views of the bay.

Great views aside, though, we come here for one thing: the music. A Naked Music night is always a good draw, because, well, the music is going to be good. As is par for the course the future superstar Miguel Migs was the man of the hour, but no matter who was on the decks, it seemed the later it got, the more people were dancing.

Of course, as the crowd goes, so does the number of people who'll ruin your party photos. Oh well. Don't you hate it when you're trying to get a picture of the crowd and some dude decides to stare directly at the camera. Grrr. Just for that, I'm not correcting your red-eyes so you look demonic, buddy.

Speaking of the camera's deer-in-the-headlights effect, it came in handy. While the barmaid was entranced by the laser-pointer-auto-focus thingy of the camera, Dave was able to slip her a 100-Lira bill for a can of Red Bull. Only kidding. I think it was 500 Lira. (For the less traveled, the Lira is Italy's near-worthless currency, which makes even the Peso look strong.) The other bar bonus was the bowl of dried cherries. We don't know why they were there, but they were gooood. The wholesome sweetness was accompanied by a bit of visual confection: A loop of Willy Wonka on one of the translucent projection screens hanging from the ceiling. Right on!

The outside patio upstairs is not only a place where people can smoke, but get bombarded by myriad flyers as well. Dave and Trideev came up with a nice system for dealing with the flyers. They'd read them aloud and then hand them to me. Thanks, guys. I really needed 10 flyers telling me about the new Mark Farina album. Others chose alternative methods of dismissing the flyers - for instance, this guy used the dark side of the Force to vaporize his into the air. (Gotta love that long-exposure shit, dontcha?)

Oh yeah - the most compelling reason to come on the patio - This is what it looks like staring out at the bay.

Luckily, there are tons of heat lamps to ensure that revelers won't lose any limbs to SF's frostbite-inducing chill. As an added measure, the wood-beamed outdoor dancefloor downstairs made sure things stayed warm. With Afronaught on the decks, there was a somewhat break-beat-ish alternative to house.

As with the last installment, this downstairs area makes for some of the most interesting peoplewatching. For instance, have you ever seen anyone actually use the pockets of their cargo pants? Or seen anyone wet their cargo pants? Eww. And then there's the case of the girl who seemed to have a bit too much of the "hug drug." As for my crew, there was no chemical enhancement necessary. We were too busy singing (literally) the praises of Vodka Red Bulls.

If anything, I sometimes think the downstairs area is more elaborately decorated than the visually tamer upstairs...

But hey, upstairs is where the headliners play, meaning there are a ton of people to meet. If you ever need a go-go dancer for an event, you can visit Noelle (left). The gentleman in the middle - he just knows when a party rocks! I could've sworn I saw this guy get in by carrying in a record crate. I know he has Miguel Migs' hairdo and all, but still... I think I smell a scam. Anyone see this guy spin? As for the one on the right - I thought people stopped wearing lingerie to clubs after the whole Madonna Vision Quest period. Oh well, not like I'm complaining.

And that's it for the week. Here's your obligatory tweaked-out photo of the San Francisco skyline, taken from a zooming Toyota on the way back down the Peninsula. See you next time!