Up yours, Screw Job!!!

I have to give a shout-out to my boy Andrew Duerson for the post title. We had a massive fake email fight about four years ago and he won by sending the above sentiment repeated about 9,000 times on the screen. Good times. Perhaps the only person who loved Jerry Orbach/Lenny more than I did. Anyway. On to the post!

What's this? What's this below? Some kind of map, eh? Well, let's see what's on it. . . ah, the lovely country of Malta, the veritable jewel of the Mediterranean! Where I will be spending the next two weeks! Merry Christmas, SUCKERS!

Amidst the hissing sounds of your jealous seething, I must bid you adieu. I'm off for the QCC*2 tomorrow; by this time Thursday, I will be sitting in the Milan airport waiting for my connection. But then AFTER that, I will be in Malta with my family. Drinking and fighting. I can't wait. Best of the hols to you and yours. See you soon, mwah!

love, el.

*why, the Quin Christmas Convention, of course

I'm a bad person!

Because I don't blog enough! For my two readers. But on a bright note, I just finished my first semester of grad school last night! Will feel weird to have my Mondays and Thursdays back. . . until next semester kicks in.

Other than that, things are pretty la la la lame. My excitement for the weekend basically boils down to picking up the second Warhol (that actually will be pretty cool) from the framer's and getting my hair cut. This is what is has come down to, how dismally pathetic my life has become lately: I am excited about getting. my. hair. cut.

For those of you are interested, keeping the length but putting in lots of long layers. For those not interested, eat a dick.

That was the trademark phrase of a high school friend of mine. Fellow by the name of Eric Smith. No idea what he is doing now. Hopefully not, um, eating a dick.

Well, this post has rapidly degenerated.

One more and then I'm done. For the day.

I am crampy. Crampety cramp cramp of the Highland McCrampingtons crampy. I am in fact using my cramps as an excuse to bog off the gym tonight. And instead go to a pre-trivia drinking session. And drink those cramps awaaaaay!

Back off, cramps! I'm druuuuunk!

Posting MAAAAAAANIA!!!

I know, I know, I can't believe it either. Pictures too!

Long story short, I bought a Warhol. A friend of mine had a line on a really good deal on a series of Marilyn silkscreens and I got one. So did Claire. They're being framed now and we're going to look at them on Saturday. This is the first piece of real art I have ever owned. It's like an investment and shit! Anyway, this first pic is mine:

Bad angle, but you get the idea: blue background, orange hair, pinky/purpley face with a silver sheen on the shadow bits. It's being framed white on white oh so museum nouveau!

This is Claire's:

Classic silver on silver, looks really neat. It's going to be black matte on black frame oh so stylish. Maybe too stylish. Hmm, maybe I will start a family feud and claim Claire's Marilyn for my own! She'll never know what hit her. Until she reads this blog entry.

Anyway, these are the only two Marilyns in the series with metallic silver paint. And we have both of them! It's all just too exciting for words.

I'm a posting fool, a posting fool

Here are some pics from the absolutelyfuckingamazing Stones show I went to last month. I know you can't really tell what is going on, but in the bottom one Mick is on the big screen, pointing to Keith where his teeth fell out. Lots of lights, lips and tongue graphics, at one point part of the stage detached and came ouuuuuuuuuut into the audience then went baaaaaaaaaaaack into the rest of the stage. These guys are pros. They left for precisely 1 minute during the fake will they/won't they encore bit, did two songs, and then were like peace out party people, last one turn off the lights, they were GONE. I guess after FORTY YEARS of doing this shit you pretty much get it down to a science. It was great. I screamed like a twelve-year old girl and bought a $45 tee-shirt.

Gin + vent = high hilarity

This was at the new(ish) Moreland shopping centre when Gin was here last month for a visit. They have these massive ground vents that BLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW! huge amounts of air into the, uh, air. Ginny and I stood on them for several minutes, giggling maniacally. Then when we were driving out we saw a lady unwittingly walk over one and her skirt blew completely up and oh how we laughed and laughed. Except the windows were down and she heard us. Sorry lady.

Remember meeeeeeeee?

Let's not dwell on the past. I know it's been a while. But it's a week of thanksgiving. . . so just be thankful that I am writing.

In response to people asking me how I am doing/what's going on/what's new, I created a snazzy catchphrase: "Work and school, rinse and repeat." This outstandingly comic witticism is not only true AND concise, it also keeps me from thinking up new things to tell people/boring them with mundane trivialities. Everyone wins.

I did a little Christmas shopping this weekend. In related news, I am working on a TOP SECRET project for my family and was able to get a little bit more done on that end. I also turned the heat on for the first time this season. It was less than 50 degrees in the house, now a toasty 67. I would have turned it on earlier, but the pilot light went out and I didn't feel like blowing myself up. Dropped off shizz at the Salvation Army, dented the fuck out of my car, and had sushi twice. Went to a birthday party, met my. . . what? Car? Gloss over? Go back? YES, I fucking put a dent the size of a fucking fist into my car this weekend. In my garage. Going >1 mile per hour. That's all I'm saying about it. Fuuuck! Moving on. Mlo and Liz's birthday party at famed gay club Friends, met up with my Biz Comm group to work on presentation, did research for tcm article due today shiiiiit. Cleaned up all the papers and shit on my dining room table, quite possibly the proudest moment of the weekend for me. I mentioned this to a friend and he snidely remarked, "Wouldn't this be the stuff that I saw the last time I was there?" He hasn't been to my house in probably two years. Asshole.

As is the corporate office protocol, approximately 63 people so far have asked me how my weekend was. This has been my response: "It was pretty low-key." I'm such a liar. But they don't really want to know anyway. Again, everyone wins. But looking at this post, I had a huge weekend. Except that I didn't get to go to U2. Like the dent, I don't want to talk about it.

See ya next month!

Oh, yeah.

Also, Happy Halloween. I was going to do something like send you one of those emails that makes you look at an idyllic scene for a while and then a really scary picture flashes up and it screams loudly and makes you shit your pants. But even I am not that much of a bastard.

Okay, I am, I just couldn't find one.

How much do I suck? Let me count the ways.

How long has it been? Eh, I don't even care anymore. I'm tired. All the time. My lack of energy used to make me feel bad, but now. Whatever. Don't care. The worst part? Even things that should be fun and good I am viewing as just another thing on my to-do list. Just another chore I have to squeeze in between work, school, house, pets, and bills. Things like trying to date or hanging out with my friends or even talking to my family members who I freaking love more than anything. Please dear loved ones, be patient with me. I just need. . . I just need. . . what do I need? Fuck I just need to fucking snap out of this!

Okay, stay tuned. Or don't, I understand.

Worst. Tattoo. Ever.

I just realised that I never posted the rest of the ACL pics. Don't worry, they all pretty much sucked anyway, so you're not missing anything.

But there was one.

One pic that perfectly demonstrates one man's obsession. With. The Boss.



This guy was in front of me for Built To Spill (Who were disappointedly feh; I mean, hi, I realise that it was VERY FUCKING HOT and that they are from Idaho, undoubtedly colder than Austin, but fuck the Arcade Fire is from Montreal and they were wearing full-on suit and wool gloves and shit and WAY more fucking animated and actually seemed psyched to be there). He seemed to be having fun and all but can you IMAGINE what he would have done if Bruce had popped on stage for a jam?

I couldn't stop staring at it, all the while noticing new Bruce details. There were actually four separate Bruces, you can't really see the one on his left shoulder region. And the totally blacked-in Bruce must have HUUUURT. Shit. This guy is a fucking FAAAAAAN. It was no problem snapping the pic, thanks for asking.

This shit is bookmarked. Twice.

In a quintessential encapsulation of what a sad state of affairs my life has become, this little link has become, in recent weeks, the gateway to my greatest source of visual pleasure. The calm and relaxation it provides me has been invaluable; I only hope you can share in some of my joy.

ps. you can help him out if he gets stuck. or not, it's up to you.

Guy In Philosophy Class Needs To Shut The Fuck Up

Yet another brilliant gem from people-that-I-wish-were-my-friends-at The Onion.

ACL Fest: band examination, Spoon

At least I think this is Spoon. I'm not sure, by this point I was drinking and did I mention how hot it was? Oh wait, there's the boy with the red trucker hat on in front of me. This is definitely a pic of the Spoon show. V good band, and hometown heroes at that so there was a HUUUUUUUUGE turnout for this show. Skillions of people.
On another note, K just sent me an mp3 of "Eleanor Put Your Boots On," a track off the upcoming Franz album. It's very jangly and happy and oh just lovely. I love songs with my name in them.

ACL Fest: chapter one, the saga begins

Hey? Want to see some crappy pictures I took with my camera phone???? You do? Well, here ya go! I call Photo 1: "Frat Boy Backpack from the Back." A simple composition at first glance, but upon digging deeper you may see the floating red head of Jeff Tweedy on the jumboscreen in the back ground. Yes, this is my photo of Wilco playing.

This one is a little better, just showing off THE SCENE. The scene that was ungodly hot. The light brown area you see halfway in the picture is dusty ground. Dusty hot ground. Dusty hot ground that got kicked up by 65,000 people all weekend and made breathing difficult. At night it looked like a nuclear fallout scene, replete with copious overtones of hacking coughs. FUN!!!

Anyway, this pic not only shows that there were a fuckload of people there (and this was Friday, the lightest day), but also the luxurious Austin skyline and the big Tejas sky. Under which we coughed. And burned.

Lataaaaaaaaaaahs

I'm out of here--off to Austin for a three-way with ACL Fest and Rita. Should be a good time, will try to take pics and, uh, remember stuff.

In other news, sleep really helps you feel functional. This sounds obvious until you get too little of it and then you realise you're forgetting to do things like shut the car door and wear underwear. These are purely hypothetical examples.

Moons over My Hammy

So I went to Miami this weekend. For fun in the sun, you say? Take in the exciting nightlife, perhaps? To gawk at impeccably bronzed, impossibly sculpted human beings in skimpy clothing? Revel in the Art Deco architecture and wide use of pastel colours?

Nope! I went to get some!

Ah, Miami: land of my ex. My wholly familiar and emotionally vapid ex. Bottom line: we have good times. This weekend we had some really good times. And then I flew home. So basically it was a 1300 mile-long booty call. Round-trip.

Plus I get sky-miles.

I'm only updating because Karen did.

Shit, I'm busy. Work is chaotic, school is heating up, and I have THE BOOT slowing me down. I need to get my ass moving. Spent first half of Labour Day weekend in drunken stupor, so consequently spent the second half in bed, recovering. Although I was productive at one point and cleaned my house--it smells all fresh and shit. What a concept, right, hilarious.

In my alcoholic convalescence, I watched a couple of really good movies (in addition to the second season of Curb, fifth season just out yay!): The first one was Kung Fu Hustle. Now, I remember thinking when this movie was released in theatres, "Hmm, looks good--I think I'll go see it." Naturally, I never went. So when the title peeked at me on the vid store shelf, I bit. And oh, am I so glad I bit. I loved it. I actually. . . I actually. . . shit, I don't really want to admit this, but certain scenes were so amazingly constructed that. . . I cried a little. At the beauty of it all. Smiling and crying. I wept tears of cinematic joy. Oh go fuck yourself.

The other film was Bubba Ho-tep. Can't even begin to explain the plot line on this one. Yes, I can: an old Elvis and JFK are still alive and live in an East Texas rest home, where a mummy is feasting on the souls of the residents and only the pair can stop him. Bruce Campbell is DEAD ON as a geriatric King and Ossie Davis is--as per the usual--outstanding.

I think you should stop reading this post and go rent this films.

Still reading, eh? Well, I'm out of here. I have a BITCH of a case study for Business Analysis to work on tonight. I'm actually a little scared of it. Hold me.

afternoon quickie

The Boot update:
Tomorrow it will be 1 week down, 5 weeks and counting. Getting used to it, feels weird to take it off at night. Upper shin now aches a little, makes me think the bone is starting to properly go back into place. Moving around pretty quickly. Going to gym tonight, prolly just for weight training machines.

Went to the second of my Business Analysis class last night. Quickly overwhelmed by rapid-fire sum-up of college calculus. Um, I never took calculus. Or any college math for that reason. Great. Have massive analysis due in two weeks. Hope to get cracking this weekend.

Tonight:
Gym, farmer's market, din, finish up Strat Comm reading, and prepare packages I have been meaning to mail out for about 3 weeks now. Then sleep, sweet sleep.

Didn't I say there would be pics?

Great lashings of photographs. Of grainy and generally poor quality!

So Kat and Erich (bottom two pics, obviously) got hitched this weekend. Fantastic wedding, everyone was gorgeous, I cried, food/booze/band all top notch. It was awesome. Except my friend got thrown in jail. That was not very awesome. But it's all going to work out.

I also present to you a visual homage to the very yummy and delicious Banilla yogurt that I have been eating all week for brek. It is so good. And finally: The boot. I'll try to make this as short as possible.

At the end of June I got hit in the leg hard with a line drive during a softball game it hurt but felt ok the next day so I figured all was well but then I got kicked in the ankle two weeks later in another softball game but again it felt okay a little bit later so I didn't really think anything of it but then a large bump began to grow out of my leg about two weeks ago so I finally went to see the doctor and it turns out I have a hairline fracture and the bump was the BONE growing out of my body and I have to wear the boot for six weeks the end.

Faulkner would be proud.

Blowing town

So I'm out of here tomorrow AM--up to NC for le wedding. Becoming more excited about this as it draws nearer; I suspect the weekend might be a little wild. NOT, mind you, because of me; as my wise friend Gin counseled, "Just don't get naked at this one." And if you don't know this story, well, buy me a drink and maybe I'll tell you sometime. Anyway, those days are loooong past. Well, they'd better be. . . Kat would probably be super-pissed if I pulled that kind of stunt at what will be one of the happiest days of her life. Ginny only just started speaking to me as it is.

Next up: some photos of shite quality from the mobile. Just for kicks.

Birds flying high, you know how I feel.

Man, oh man, have I been busy.

It all got effed up last week. I had a class for my compensation professional certification (ooooh!). There are nine modules with exams at the end, this was my sixth. While I like the classes, I can't help but think that my enthusiasm for them will drastically diminish once I begin grad school. Which starts next Monday. I had my orientation session on Saturday morning. 8am. In Alpharetta (far). The first few hours were pretty rough. I've come to realise that doing things--like taking offsite training classes and attending ass-early orientation sessions--throw me off my routine. And I don't like to be thrown off my routine. I don't get enough sleep, I eat poorly, and I don't work out. These are all bad things. And for all three to happen at once, even worse. So last week was a total wash-out. I slept for 15 hours once I got home from the orientation.

This week has been better, but still pretty hectic. Mostly back to my comforting routine, but did have to venture into downtown on Tuesday to buy my text books. As my ATL peeps know, downtown Atlanta is kind of built on a grid. Except when it's not. And most streets are alternating one-way streets. Except when they're not. Throw in a sprinkling of inexplicable road closings and untimed streetlights and voila! A shitty driving experience! Then I parked and was feeding the meter with the last of my change when a helpful passerby noted that I didn't have to pay for parking after 6pm. Then I got lost 900 times in the Student Centre building until a janitor took pity on my and led me by the hand to the bookstore. I bought approx 45 lbs of books and the girl put it into one plastic carrier bag. After the handles had been streeeeeeetched to the thickness of spaghetti, I heaved it on to my chest and proceeded down five flights of stairs in sandals that went CLOP CLOP CLOP all the way down. At the bottom, the guy manning the front desk was standing up with his hands planted on the counter and glared at me when I clopped by, I imagine since he had been listening to me arrive for seven minutes. Then I turned the wrong way on 75/85, but REFUSED to backtrack and went for a lovely drive through the very shitty ghetto. I actually passed some cops winding up some yellow crime scene tape and learned later that night on the news that someone had been shot there. Windows were up and doors were locked.

This weekend is Kat and Erich's wedding. I'm taking off Friday to go up to North Carolina. It should be a fantastic time, really looking forward to it. Free-flowing booze and good times. And the sanctity of two people officially beginning a life together. But also the booze.

When I get back, I'm going to have to hit the ground running. I have an article due for tcm (for latest site offerings, click here and here) Monday, and my first class (Business Analysis yeeee) on Monday night. Oh, and then I get to go to the doctor on Tuesday morning due to a disturbing amount of growth out of my left leg from when it stopped a line drive cold in softball a month ago. And the cyst on my wrist still hasn't gone away. Fun! I'm a mutant!

But there is a fun lake party next Friday. And I am eating better this week, getting more sleep, and working out, so I feel pretty good. And isn't that what it's all about? Feelin' good?

You're not the boss of me, stupidface.

My sister thinks I am relying too heavily on pictures versus text for my blog content lately. To which I respond:

Images courtesy of Thundercut, a really cool photography site.

It's not a tumor. I hope.

Yesterday I had a pretty substantial freak-out session. I was fiddling with the top of my hand for a while when I looked down and noticed this. THIS! This GROWTH on my hand!

Admire the close-up action. After thorough internet research (ie; googled "cyst" and "hand), I have diagnosed myself with a ganglion cyst. Apparently, they're not too life-threatening or anything--but I have made an appointment with my doc just in case it is a tumor. Or a massive blood clot just waiting to be free so it can float up my artery and into my brain causing a massive embolism. Or blowfly eggs incubating tiny flesh-eating maggots that will hatch and begin to devour my body from the inside out.

I'm sure it will be fine.

Oh damn I HAVE to post this

Oh man I had to do it. This is my sister's friend Sara playing volleyball recently up in Chi-ca-go. Never in the history of man has anyone looked more like a cartoon. How are her legs doing that? The upper half is more of your garden variety flail. Together, photographic magic. Here's to you, Sara.

har

Holidaaaay! Celebrate!

It's on!

Bought tickets and airfare for this year's ACL Fest. Went the inaugural year in '03, missed it last year due to Africa, and back on track this year. Have already ID'ed 38 bands I want to see. Excited about the event, seeing friends (particularly MERN!!!), eating and drinking at all the old haunts. Austin. *sigh* It will always have a little piece of my heart. A ventricle, if you will. So like 1/4 I guess.

On another note, my left shin got smashed by a wicked line drive ball in last night's game. Hurt like a mothereffer. There are actually ball stitch imprints in my leg. Today, however, it is surprisingly not as painful as I imagined it would be. Although I fell over getting out of bed this AM.

And when they pulled the burning body out of the wreckage, it looked like: THIS!

Hmm I was testing out animation on this blog and by the looks of it, it works. . . kind of. Let's call it my tribute to Large Marge.

ohmygodtimeisatastandstill

It's a slow news day.

First of all, I'm a fucking idiot. I didn't get to bed last night until 4am. Here is what happened. Tried to get into the Better Than Ezra show at the Roxy with friend and they were completely, utterly, 100% SOLD OUT. Frankly I was surprised--they are my secret guilty pleasure band, so I guess I didn't think hordes of people would want to go. We shook it off and had a couple beers and played a game of darts at some bar. Left to go home around 10:30pm--this is good, plenty of time to get a good night's sleep. But it was not to be. Another friend calls and lures me to the mothereffing T'side for a beer. Which turns into multiple beers. Which makes 11pm turn into 330am. The time just fleeeeeeeew by, I couldn't believe it when I realised what time it was. So 4am. Needless to say, have felt pretty ploppy all day. Just want to go home and take a 1-2 hour nap. Then I will be okay. God my liver must HATE ME.

Lunch Review

I had a veggie sandwich from ATL Bread Company for lunch (above). Overall: scrumptious. Drawback: A bit overstuffed and gooey. A bit of tomato actually shot out of it in mid-bite and fell on the floor. Some of you may know that messy, drippy sandwiches are actually a HUUUUGE pet peeve of mine. But it wasn't that bad, and the sandwich taste was really quite good. So I will prolly get it again. With more napkins this time.

Um, no.

I won't be eating here.

Now I need to wash my brain.

I just remembered that I had a dream last night that I was still in high school living with my family and we all went over to this other, bigger more amazing house that we also owned and had just forgotten about. I was all excited about getting to choose my own room and thrilled to see there was a swimming pool in the front lawn. I was the first one in the house and I was opening up closets and looking all around when a man popped out of one of the rooms dressed only in whitey-tighties and ran out of the house, as though he had been hiding in the empty house all along. When I ran after him outside, I caught up to him and realised it was Bob Geldof.

???

It kills. And you know what I am talking about.

Spied this lovely fellow as we were tucking into a delicious brek at Gato Bizco yesterday morning. Nearly put me off my soysage. Nearly.

Past Weekend Keywords: Debauchery, Excess

Gin was in town this weekend. We went ninety-to-nothing the entire time. To sum:

Plane
Dinner
Drinks
Lunch
Nails
Rain
Beers
Dinner
Wine
Green Market
Park
Lunch
Sangria
Pet Store
Dog Wash
Coffees
Video
Dinner
Rain
Campari and sodas
Drinks
Pool
Beer
Wine
Brunch
Plane

I came home and flat-out crashed-out. Voice is reedy and awash with exhaustion. Will to live weak. Really want to read The Dante Club (which I am FINALLY getting into) over lunch, but just realised I left it at home. I also missed my dentist appointment this morning. I'm a mess.

Above is a picture of Ginny posing against a ghettofabulous car we spotted on Friday. The funny thing about it is I suspect Ginny would rather be set on fire than actually be any kind of driver-of or passager-in this car.

This is how exciting our life is

Can you see this? Like, actually read the words? Because if you can't, there's no point to this post. As is, there's very little. I just wanted to illustrate what morons my sister and I are. This is how it is pretty much everyday. We also spend a lot of time saying "Heeeello?" in weird voices on the phone to each other and then silent throat laughing for a few minutes after we crack ourselves up.

Important Announcement

I'd just like to let you guys know something. One of my favourite moments of all time is the Looney Toons cartoon in which Daffy is shown on a island veeeeeery far away from the camera angle. He announces, "I'm ready for my closssth-up!" to which the camera responds by moving just a little bit closer. Daffy indignantly responds, "THIS IS A CLOSSSTH-UP?" and the camera immediately zooms in and smooshes his beak.

Comedy classic. Highly recommended.

The Life of the Work-Life Balance

So I had a date last night. I can't remember the last time I went on a bona fide DATE. I wore a skirt and everything. Of course it was my Sri Lankan longi (which is technically a man's skirt), but a skirt nonetheless. I definitely appreciate how much more relaxed and confident of myself I am at 29 than I was at, say, earlier in my twenties. I remember being very nervous and chattery on dates then--and it was completely irrelevant if I actually liked the fella or not. I guess I'm saying that I like the feel of my own skin. I'm also way less of a shallow stuck-up bitch than I used to be, things that used to be ABSOLUTE DEAL BREAKERS aren't really anymore. And by ABSOLUTE DEAL BREAKERS, I mean stupid shit like what kind of car he drove or his name (although I do still draw the line at Wayne or Dwayne).

The car thing reminds me that my freshman year roommate broke up with a guy once because he drove a Monte Carlo.

Hmm, thinking about mean guy treatment reminds me that I once ended a date by saying, "Well, see ya never," and slammed the door in his face. I also told a guy after a TERRIBLE HORRIBLE date when he still wanted to walk me to my car that I would rather have a bunch of gorillas jump out of the bushes and rape me than have him walk me to my car. Then I ran away.

So anyway, the date. Jesus, 900 tangents. It was good. I'll see him again.

Take the skinheads bowling, take them bowling.

Action shots of our bowling excursion this weekend. I like Erich's look of SHOCK in the second one. Must have been in reaction to me KICKING ASS in the first game. Game two was tight, but Erich squeaked by in a naaaaaarow victory. I tell you, nothing prepares you for the game like an undergraduate course in the sport. Needless to say, arm pretty sore all day yesterday.

Documentation of my illness for your viewing pleasure.

Originally uploaded by smelly_.

Ah lovely, the receptacle for all my snot rags! It's veritably teeming at the moment.

More sick pics

Originally uploaded by smelly_.

Close-up of sick bed. Note thermometer to capture wildly varying readings. Various remotes to telly and DVD player. Book that I don't have patience to read right now. It's called The Dante Club. Interesting premise but it's moving veeeeery slowly.

Originally uploaded by smelly_.

Note tomato soup and orange juice waiting for me. They won't help. Note box of tissues waiting to torment me. They are the unlotioned kind. My nose feels like ground meat. POOOOOOOOO!

Shit some kid just lit a pile of fireworks right out in the middle of the street. I about had an aneurysm. Thank god I sedated the dog. I have a mind to go out and breathe on the street kids.

Casa de la Enfermedad

Casa de la Enfermedad
Originally uploaded by smelly_.

God I love three day weekends. So much so that I got REALLY sick and stayed in bed the entire time! Here is my sick bed. Note pillows in prop position. This is so I can breathe and not drown in my own mucus. Note book and used tissues. Discarded robe when I was HOT. It will go back on in approximately three minutes when I am ICE COLD.

Independence Day

I'm listening to about a skillion fireworks going off right now. It's almost 9:30pm, I'm in my jammies, and the dog is sedated. It's been a very exciting weekend for me, let's see. . . Friday: not feeling that bad, got some meds to stave off a sore throat that has been getting worse over the last week. Boom! The fireworks are really kicking in. Okay, Saturday AM: wake up. Feel like death. Venture out for essentials, then back to bed. Watch telly and some films. Sleep. Sickness progresses. Voice grows deeper. Breathing becomes more belaboured. Pattern begins to emerge:

cough
sneeze
watering eyes
hot
cough
sleepy
sneeze
cold
cough
blow nose
covers
no covers
sleep
cough
sneeze


And so on and so forth. To sum, I am sick. Day three of definite sickness. Cabin fever is raging. Happy Fourth!

Holy freaking crap.

Originally uploaded by smelly_.

Do you know what this guy did? This guy here to the left? This little old seemingly fragile sweet looking old man? HE KILLED A LEOPARD THAT WAS ATTACKING HIM BY RIPPING OUT ITS TONGUE. I shit ye not. Read it for yourself:

http://www.eastandard.net/hm_news/news.php?articleid=23419

This man is 73. I'm 29 and I would have just quietly crawled into the leopard's stomach with no resistance whatsoever and waited to be dissolved by its stomach acid.

A shout out to my girl Kat Pace for bringing this breaking news story to my attention. Peace what up boo?

Screen on the Green: Mommie Dearest

SOTG1
Originally uploaded by smelly_.

SOTG was last night. I can't believe it was the first (and likely only) one I went to this year. Skillions of people there--the pic is pre-show milling about. Warm air, blankets and chairs, drinks and munchies with thousands of your closest friends. It was great. During the show, the audience shouted out famous lines, cheered and clapped, ooh'ed and ah'ed. It was fun. I love the city for things like this. More below.

SOTG2
Originally uploaded by smelly_.

More people wandering around pre-show. So many peeps there, the queens of ATL were definitely in full force. It's Pride Weekend here, so this was the unofficial opening event really.

sOTG3
Originally uploaded by smelly_.

And ah a beautiful sunset to cap it all off. Now hurry up sun and go down--we need our Mommie Dearest fix.

Tina, bring. me. the. ax!

MUSIC MIDTOWN 2005

mm2
Originally uploaded by smelly_.

I went, I listened, I was rained upon.

Friday night was AMAZING. Interpol (picture taken during their set) were very good, but nothing prepared us for the almighty White Stripes set. My god those motherfuckers can rock. They were fantastic. I heart them. Even though Jack has a little black worm for a moustache now. Meg's breasts were bobbling up and down as she drummed, very sexy but perhaps painful? Anyway, so worth it. So great. More pics beloooow.

mm
Originally uploaded by smelly_.

This is Music Midtown during the day. Sunday, in fact--the band playing here is Def Leppard. The guitars/drums/whatnot still pretty much sounded the same, but poor Joe Elliot must have one paper-thin single reedy reed left for his vocal cords. He didn't even bother with the high notes.

tat
Originally uploaded by smelly_.

This is my favourite pic of the night. Loitering outside the porta-potties, two-fistin' it with a hoodie on.

tat2
Originally uploaded by smelly_.

Here is Tat a little while later, veritably ROCKING OUT. A little scary, non? Tip: Never mess with a woman who can headbang.