I had a great vacation this past week. I left the batteries for my camera at home - and although that is little excuse for not having photos, I have several mental pictures that I refuse to develop for you. That's what you get. Deal.
I found out this past week that Clothing Warehouse has a location in Atlanta where you buy clothes by the pound. They give you a discount on the heavier items though. (Thanks, to April for showing this to me.) What an awesome concept. I haven't shutup about this store since I left it. It kind of came out cheaper than if I had bought those similar items at a 
thrift store in Jacksonville. I'm sure of it.
I found out this past week that Clothing Warehouse has a location in Atlanta where you buy clothes by the pound. They give you a discount on the heavier items though. (Thanks, to April for showing this to me.) What an awesome concept. I haven't shutup about this store since I left it. It kind of came out cheaper than if I had bought those similar items at a 
thrift store in Jacksonville. I'm sure of it.Gas was redick at about $3.35 a gallon, give or give. It got to the point that I was brainwashed into thinking that $3.22 for a gallon was a fucking bargain. Comparatively it was, so of course I do the 'cost-efficient' thing and eat at the built in Pizza Hut in the gas station to save even more on driving. (Gawd bless 'Merka.) The gas sitch was somewhat alleviated by riding bikes around town, though my banus is still sore from riding the bike across the unforgiving hilly concrete jungle that is downtown Atlanta. It could have been worse, really. I initially brought a friend's beach cruiser which was a pretty silly idea, although not at first. I mean, aside from the fact that there wasn't a beach anywhere around, it was pretty much the wrong bike for the job for so much more than that. My sister was able to lend me a bike with more than a single gear, though that didn't completely de-puss me.
We went to Mary's (a gay karaoke bar --no, it's not redundant to say 'gay' and 'karaoke'.) I sang "Summer Nights" with April and "Afternoon Delight" with Mike, though I could have sang either song with either of them and it would have remained equally as 'androgynous'. April sang "It's Oh So Quiet" by Björk which ended up being one of the sassiest performances I witnessed that night. Yes. Sassy.
We eventually headed upwards to Athens after spending the first few nights in Atlanta.
The bubbly was working pretty well, so I can't recall if it was at the 40 Watt or The Secret Squirrel where I caught this band from Israel called Metrotonic/Metronic/Tonicmetro - (let me know if you know) and the performance was pretty amazing. There was a punk rock vibe/atmosphere there which was reminiscent of the shows I went to as a teenager but tinged with the revelry that only a mob induced with adrenaline and alcohol can produce. Halfway through the set, or so, the band brought their shit from the stage to the floor as the people surrounded the drummer and elevated him, along with this drum set, above the crowd as he continued to thrash every tom and symbol within his reach. Often he couldn't reach every tom so he would improvise on whatever he could reach with his sticks; even a newborn that was just birthed from a mother that the band induced into pregnancy with their satanic melodies. This is the only part I'm not kidding about in this entire posting, btw. It was pretty amazing considering how drunk the drummer was. Even not considering that, it was still unbelievable but it made a believer outta me. That's right. Eventually the other members of the band joined in playing while standing on the faces of the crowd. Mindblowing.
I don't recall if it was the same night, (which is sad, really) but I somehow became inordinately trashed against my will and passed-out/fell asleep out of the sights of my friends, under the hood of a van in the back of this D.I.Y. venue called The Secret Squirrel. The Secret Squirrel is essentially a huge garage/warehouse-apartment that, possibly primarily, acts as a venue for rock shows to be held. Anyway, I awoke at 6:30 A.M. to the sounds of some chants and people still jamming inside. I assume this was the after party party (yes, third party), and they were possibly no doubt wondering what the hell I was doing in there. They were kind enough to not act totally shocked that I just wandered in from the backyard, layered in dirt, asphalt and maybe other indescribable things. There were probably about eight people still hanging in there and jamming their little hearts out. There were several hippies ululating and shindigging around and singing Shangri-la with such conviction. This was actually kind of entertaining to watch considering the circumstances.
After waiting for a break in their performance, I ended up speaking with one of the owners/residents of The S.S. who looked uncannily like Freddy Mercury, only a little less dead. He offered to call a cab for me since I, appropriately, didn't have my phone on me. I didn't want to ask anybody for a ride -- because, that would be pretty shitty to ask them to go out of their way simply because I decided to forget to stay conscience. I felt kind of stupid in the cab since I couldn't tell the man where I was staying. All I could tell him was to drive to some Thai restaurant near 8e's and I'd figure it out from there. I eventually retraced my steps back to where I was staying and finally crashed in my car at about 7:40 in the morning to avoid waking anyone and having to explain things at that hour when all I wanted to do was sleep (some more.) Hopefully that's the last time I wander around town like an amnesiac octogenarian.
It's great to be back here in Jacksonville. I mean, I know where I live in this city and I'm sure this pays off for me in a big way someday.
We went to Mary's (a gay karaoke bar --no, it's not redundant to say 'gay' and 'karaoke'.) I sang "Summer Nights" with April and "Afternoon Delight" with Mike, though I could have sang either song with either of them and it would have remained equally as 'androgynous'. April sang "It's Oh So Quiet" by Björk which ended up being one of the sassiest performances I witnessed that night. Yes. Sassy.
We eventually headed upwards to Athens after spending the first few nights in Atlanta.
The bubbly was working pretty well, so I can't recall if it was at the 40 Watt or The Secret Squirrel where I caught this band from Israel called Metrotonic/Metronic/Tonicmetro - (let me know if you know) and the performance was pretty amazing. There was a punk rock vibe/atmosphere there which was reminiscent of the shows I went to as a teenager but tinged with the revelry that only a mob induced with adrenaline and alcohol can produce. Halfway through the set, or so, the band brought their shit from the stage to the floor as the people surrounded the drummer and elevated him, along with this drum set, above the crowd as he continued to thrash every tom and symbol within his reach. Often he couldn't reach every tom so he would improvise on whatever he could reach with his sticks; even a newborn that was just birthed from a mother that the band induced into pregnancy with their satanic melodies. This is the only part I'm not kidding about in this entire posting, btw. It was pretty amazing considering how drunk the drummer was. Even not considering that, it was still unbelievable but it made a believer outta me. That's right. Eventually the other members of the band joined in playing while standing on the faces of the crowd. Mindblowing.
I don't recall if it was the same night, (which is sad, really) but I somehow became inordinately trashed against my will and passed-out/fell asleep out of the sights of my friends, under the hood of a van in the back of this D.I.Y. venue called The Secret Squirrel. The Secret Squirrel is essentially a huge garage/warehouse-apartment that, possibly primarily, acts as a venue for rock shows to be held. Anyway, I awoke at 6:30 A.M. to the sounds of some chants and people still jamming inside. I assume this was the after party party (yes, third party), and they were possibly no doubt wondering what the hell I was doing in there. They were kind enough to not act totally shocked that I just wandered in from the backyard, layered in dirt, asphalt and maybe other indescribable things. There were probably about eight people still hanging in there and jamming their little hearts out. There were several hippies ululating and shindigging around and singing Shangri-la with such conviction. This was actually kind of entertaining to watch considering the circumstances.
After waiting for a break in their performance, I ended up speaking with one of the owners/residents of The S.S. who looked uncannily like Freddy Mercury, only a little less dead. He offered to call a cab for me since I, appropriately, didn't have my phone on me. I didn't want to ask anybody for a ride -- because, that would be pretty shitty to ask them to go out of their way simply because I decided to forget to stay conscience. I felt kind of stupid in the cab since I couldn't tell the man where I was staying. All I could tell him was to drive to some Thai restaurant near 8e's and I'd figure it out from there. I eventually retraced my steps back to where I was staying and finally crashed in my car at about 7:40 in the morning to avoid waking anyone and having to explain things at that hour when all I wanted to do was sleep (some more.) Hopefully that's the last time I wander around town like an amnesiac octogenarian.
It's great to be back here in Jacksonville. I mean, I know where I live in this city and I'm sure this pays off for me in a big way someday.
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