Saturday, March 27, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
So, in searching old photos for Atlanta for a couple projects I'm working on in my spare time (read: I'm unemployed and need to kill time) I came across a thumpin' single called "Buttermilk Bottom", after the intown neighborhood. The neighborhood is one of my latest obsessions, or at least what was the neighborhood. It was basically destroyed by the DOT, City of Atlanta, Southern Company, developers and Central Atlanta Progress. In any case, in further research I found out where the single comes from. An AMAZING album called The Burning of Atlanta by the assembled band The Spirit of Atlanta. Produced by local funk impresario, Tommy Stewart on his Buddah Records label, it was supposed to be the soundtrack for an unrealized movie (interview here). Still, friends we are left with a jewel of funk dedicated to the city that by all accounts should have had a real soul/funk scene, but never really did. Peachtree Street is just oozes smooth. Enjoy!
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Friday, August 21, 2009
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Thursday, June 11, 2009
You know that new movie, the one where a madman takes a train full of innocent transit riders hostage? You know what would be a really clever place to promote that movie? How bout a train full of innocent transit riders!
Sure enough, on my ride home on Marta last night, I watched in amused amazement as Transit TV broadcast the trailer for The Taking Of Pelham 123, complete with shots of a pistol-wielding Travolta forcing riders to the ground of a train cabin that looked a lot like the one I was currently sitting in.
I kind of thought I had imagined it, until I stepped out of the train a few minutes later and saw a HUGE AD for the same movie on the side of a Marta bus pulling out of the station.
Marta, I know they probably offered you like 250 dollars and all, but you're allowed to tell them no. Especially when its a movie about, you know, the threat of violence on public transit.
Monday, June 1, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
I was in São Paulo Brazil a few weeks ago, and I kept a little journal of badass English expressions i saw on t-shirts, signs and graffiti. It's a weird thing, but I think the use of edgy-sounding English words down there implies something cool is automatically being expressed. And it absolutely is.
"Neo Shark 4 Ever"
"College Attitude Is Only Hard Rock"
"Cash For Chaos"
"Dress to Party"
P.S. Enlarge image to check out the crafty broken bottle anti-burglar terracotta shingles.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
Has anybody else noticed how the Joel and Associates dude has gone all soft recently? What happened to the angry dad x3 who used to scowl at me from the side of every Marta bus in metro Atlanta? The new chin-on-fist Olan Mills shot brings to mind a swan trainer or dollhouse collector, which is simply not going to cut it when I sue my boss for letting me burn myself on the break room toaster oven.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
One way to know for sure that a demo CD is going to be awesome is if you find it half buried in mud and Arby's coupons outside an Atlanta strip club. So I dusted off my copy of "Thou Art Traficking Cocaine" and brought it back to play in my computer at work.
Well, now its stuck in there, making sandy grinding noises. I've been avoiding getting the IT guy involved, cause then I'll have to tell him the whole shameful and gross backstory -- "it's a perfectly honest mistake, you see, I found a compact disc on the side of the road and crammed it into this nice computer I don't deserve."
Now I'm going to have to belly up to the Apple "Genius Bar" and take my medicine. After they vacuum the georgia clay out of my computer and make me feel small, I'm going to go down to the lenox mall food court and eat a sad sack of Taco Bell cinnamon twists, occasionally looking up from my plastic tray for someone to be my friend.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
Back when I lived on Atlanta's west side (or the NWATs, as no one calls them), I used to go to this gas station on Bolton Road that had these incredible gas pump ads for low budge online greeting cards with strange as hell phrases addressing abstract emotional concepts.
My favorite was the "Break Up" card (shortened to an elegant "BU" brushstroke for stylishness purposes). Perhaps the clearest way to tell someone you don't want them in your life anymore is to break up with them via online greeting card you saw advertised on a gas pump handle.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
As we all know, the "city of trees" is, ironically, totally deficient in green space. So, despite it's lush canopy, I was further saddened to see that this counts as open space in our city. A 12' median in Vaggie-Hi.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
I guess this makes up for holding a prayer sesh for rain on the capitol steps last year.
From person 1
Sent: Monday, February 13, 2006 4:27 PM
To: person 2
Subject: RE: farwell ballzton
What's her last name? It's time for a Google/Friendster search.
I know it might not cool, but hey, I like to cyberstalk people! So sue me!
From: person 2
To: person 1
Subject: RE: farwell ballzton
Date: Tue, 14 Feb 2006 15:21:44 -0500
yeah, right. like i'm gonna tell you her last name. please, i can already
see the forthcoming mockery of her friendster profile. i only say that
because if i didn't know her, i'd likely do the same.
are you and b-bag doing anything for valentine's day?
body chocolate anyone?
i'm gonna stand in her doorway nude and cover myself in magic shell.
then i'll just yell until she answers the door.
then i'll clench my ass muscle and crack the entire shell.
From: person 1
Sent: Tuesday, February 14, 2006 3:24 PM
To: person 2
Subject: RE: farwell ballzton
Don't be a pussy, Sack--I have two words for you: AIR POWER.
What if when you clenched your ass muscle the shell didn't break. And you
were just standing there making a grimacing face and she was just watching,
waiting for something to happen?
Monday, February 9, 2009
West Georgia municipal airport + pubed-up cot + certificate of achievement = the most creative Valentine's Day date you ever got divorced on.
Throw in a bottle of Cook's and a keepsake c-rag, and you have yourself one classy Hotlanta drill sesh.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Ummm . . . if you haven't had a chance to check out DCPD Bangerz, it is pretty much the best album of all time.
The backstory is that the DeKalb County Police website used to have these awesome different themed lo-fi crunk instrumental beats for each section of the website. So this dude took all the beats from the site and made an entire concept album from them. The real genius of it comes in how he writes lyrics based on the police website info. To me the tightest joint of all is "Meet The Chief."
Full album + more info available here.
The only downside is that DeKalb County Police has now tragically removed the original beats from their site.
People in Atlanta always want to whine about how we are second best at stuff. But I disagree. In my experience, Atlanta is a top tier town for chilling w crazy folk. You really don't have to do much digging to run into a guy who's screaming at his own hand while gesturing to some points of interest on an unseen wall map.
By way of example, I offer this piece of improvised furniture left by the two 50-year-old hermit dudes who used to live down the street from me, before promptly disappearing one day. There are plenty of second and third hand stories to share about these gentlepersons, but I think their own words (scrawled in blood-like red sharpie on a homemade bench) really paints the picture best:
A Lot of Tickle
Yes Yes Yes Yes
Private Shopping List
Remember to Have Sex
Naked Penis Big Dick
Monday, January 26, 2009
I had been puzzling for an irritatingly long time about a made-for-t.v. movie I saw a bunch of times as a kid but couldn’t remember the name of. The thing is, I remember EVERYTHING, so when a face or memory pops up in my mind and I can’t place it, I go a little nuts. I’m usually able to solve these quandaries with a good ‘ole search on the interweb. That’s where I found the title of a book I remembered reading in my childhood but all I could recall about it for years was that the story involved a creature called “the wicked Oni” who lived under the earth and had one eye and that it was incredibly creepy. (The book is called, “The Funny Little Woman”, by the way. It’s a Japanese folktale. Glad I put that one to rest!)
There were a few concrete elements I remembered from the t.v. show but most of it was the mood of it... the vaguely menacing and nightmarish quality. I remembered there being some sort of alternate universe that a kid goes to and realizes he can’t stay in. That’s about it. Then last week I had a breakthrough: one of the main characters was played by Sam Waterston. I thought I was on the right track until my various Google permutations for “Sam Waterston” 80s and t.v. yielded a bunch of unrelated garbage.
Until last night, that is, when I was bugging B with my various fruitless searches and finally came upon a filmography for Sam Waterston and scrolled down to the 80s part. The title I’d been searching for for years literally jumped out at me and I screamed it out: “The Boy Who Loved Trolls”! Lo and behold, there exists about 15 minutes of it on YouTube and goddamn, it’s exactly as I remember it: the weird synthesizer music, the narrator’s voice, the depressing mall montage, the condescending parents, the prepubescent boy and his inappropriate fixation on trolls (while at the same time admiring ladies lingerie?).
Take a look:
But what I didn’t remember (and wouldn’t have) were all the obvious drug references and the general bizarre spaciness of it all. (What’s up with all the rainbows?) B and I were watching it and remarking to each other, “These people were totally HIGH!” It was part of a series that ran on PBS in the 80s and 90s called “Wonderworks”. Back when I was a kid living with hippie parents out in the woods, our little t.v. only got one channel (unless it was windy) and it was PBS. At some point we got a VCR and it was a pretty big deal, but the great part is that we almost never rented VHS tapes... instead we would tape things off t.v. and watch them over and over when, say, PBS was running a pledge break. I remember taping various episodes of Wonderworks and basically memorizing them from start to finish. The trolls episode was one of them and obviously it’s never really left my consciousness.
With all that settled, I feel like I’ve reached a new chapter in my life. Next up: ordering the DVD from Amazon and totally tripping my balls off.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
For the first time in six years, B and I spent the holidays with his family in
The last time we dined chez the Crub, you see, was Easter of 2007. The tables were decorated with pastel napkins, there was an ice bunny sculpture and, get this: a full Dixieland band. I wanted so badly to get up and dance (no one else was) but was cautioned against it in the name of humiliating B’s parents. Poor B passed the meal in an exceedingly hung-over state, begrudgingly ingesting one tiny bite of food every 10 minutes or so.
The Christmas experience was only slightly less entertaining than the Easter Extravaganza, due to the distinct absence of live music. But yet there was the requisite ice sculpture, the guy carving meat and making corny jokes, and loads of old ladies wearing sparkly vests and men sporting their holiday ties. I unabashedly loaded my plate with shrimp and crab salad and drank a split of Korbel before moving on to the dessert table for apple crumble and vanilla ice cream. It was glorious.
As if we had languished over our buffet-style meal (we had not), the room was nearly empty by the time we left. I was still finishing my wine when B’s father announced he would pull the car around (meaning, he would hand his keys to the valet) so I barely had time to avail myself of the free tampons and mouthwash in the ladies’ room before darting out to the running car to be whisked back to... nothing really. Door-to-door I’d say we were gone from the house for an hour and a half.
Sure beats being stranded in the
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
I walk over this piece of sidewalk about 15 times a week. You know when you're a kid and you've got that piece of wet cement in front of you, and you only have like 10 seconds to think of something good to write? Why not create an eternal tribute to the pimpest of all desserts?
P.S. Pudding is 4 bitches.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
From: Friend1 [mailto:firstname.lastname@example.org]
Sent: Thursday, December 01, 2005 2:24 PM
Subject: RE: pork stuffing Original Message
By the way, here's what you said about last year's Christmas party("Classic Sack" -your comeback record):
"we've got our office party today. southern comfort and egg nog. nog gobbler. did we have an egg nog joke in boston? we had a dimebag joke too right?who is dimebag darrell?
i'm gonna get hammered in the hour long party we have. just start drinking soco from the bottle. then i'll take the angel off the tree and hold a lighter up to it. then i'll stumble backwards into the tree and knock it over falling on top of it. then, clumsily i'll get up without saying a word, hit the elevator button and leave sobbing quietly".
From: Friend2 email@example.com
To: Friend1 ">firstname.lastname@example.org>
Subject: RE: pork stuffing
Date: Thu, 1 Dec 2005 14:29:39 -0500
oh man, that's funny shit. and yes "classic sack" is totally my greatest hits album. who the fuck is dimebag darrell? i especially like the lighting the angel on fire part. this year i'll try to swallow it while it's on fire and just burn the shit out of my mouth. then i'll try and cool it down with soco, only to cause it to hurt worse. transcribing shit is the worst. i tried to do that for about 5 mintues and gave up. do you have an office party? i can't wait to hear what you plan on doing at it.
deck my balls, d
From: Friend1 [mailto:email@example.com]
Sent: Thursday, December 01, 2005 2:39 PM
Subject: RE: pork stuffing
Dimebag Darrell is that guy from Pantera who was gunned down on stage by one of his "fans." It happened last year around Christmas and the only reason I remember that is because I was joking about it at Christmas and my brother got all serious and said, "Dude, that's not funny," and everyone in the oom got really quiet. And then we all burst out laughing simultaneously. I have not one but THREE Christmas parties to go to! The big one is the all-HBS party. I'm going to get hammered on cheap chardonay and then get up and start performing fellatio on one of the ice swans. Then I'm going to walk down the long buffet table and just start kicking each plate off in succession. Then I'll jump up, do a flip in the air on my way to the ground, fall, sprain my ankle and have to be carried out. But not before dry humping the dean. So my friend's birthday is this weekend and this is where we're all meetingup:
http://www.gypsybarboston.com/ I'm really, really scared.
From: "Friend2" firstname.lastname@example.org
To: Friend1 >email@example.com>
Subject: RE: pork stuffing
Date: Thu, 1 Dec 2005 14:45:12 -0500
holy shit that's hilarious. both the party description and the bar. you're
totally gonna be in a picture like the one on the home page with a bunch of drunk ass blonde whores. all coked up and pounding the fuck out of apple martinis. the ankle sprain is classic. when you dry hump the dean you also need to pretend like you think he's an ice sculpture and start trying to give him head. be all "hey everyone! watch me suck the dick off this frigid piece of ice! it's awesome!"
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
Star Provisions is the one place in Atlanta where I get to rub elbows with wealthy stay-at-home-wives. Yesterday I happened upon a gaggle of them there, browsing for fineries. The great thing about America is that, to my knowledge, there is no law that expressly prohibits me from crop dusting rich people. Which I did. With every last inch of my fanny hole.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Best reason to be forced to delete your blog: you write something mean-spirited about a local mime, he Googles his own name and finds it and then enlists an arsenal of fellow puppet masters and “performers” and they begin a series of personal attacks and harassment. Rather than deal with the futility of fending them off, you just delete the whole thing and start over under an unrecognizable pseudonym.
Best question asked in a job interview: “On a scale of 1 to 10, how clean are you?”
Best way to ensure that you’ll have a shitty day: Take the Montreal Metro to work. Sit next to a woman with Tourette’s. Wait for the train to break down and sit motionless for at least 10 minutes. (Hopefully you’re wearing your down parka and boots because there’s hot recirculated air being pumped from a vent in the ceiling of the car.) Then inhale as several of your fellow riders proceed to gorge themselves on Sausage McMuffins.
Best cookie ever created: Girl Scout Samoas
Best thing a guy has ever said to you in the middle of the night when you wake up with a stomach ache: “Do you have to take a crap?”
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Monday, December 8, 2008
Favorite part: "During this beating I may damage one or more of your household items, if I have to break glass to get into your home or knock over furniture if you attempt to run from me. This should be expected by you, and covered in my expenses. If you are married or have children, I may choose to slap around your family a little bit, but only if I'm feeling particularly generous. They should be informed of this, and expect it as well."
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Best Sketchy Place to Hang Out: The intersection of North Ave and Boulevard (NE corner). The corner is totally unlit and sits next to an vacant parcel with an empty Payless Shoe Store. The six lanes you have to cross are life threatening, a total rush and winding up on that corner alone is a sense of freedom and imminent danger that you'll never experience any where else.