A friend of Elisson’s called earlier and said that she really wanted to attend the Blogtoberfest this fall. Hope to see her soon. His question still stands though. What kind of self-respecting man can’t get a date with a real sheep?
July 19, 2007
Which End Is Up?
Still Awake
Now I am really tired, as I mentioned in a comment earlier. I have all of those posts to write though, and plan on gettin most if not all of them finished tonight. It was brought to my attention in the comments earlier however, that I was remiss in my last post about the evening out. I forgot to mention that Denny was there as well. I don’t know what might have come over me other than exhaustion when I got up at Five this morning. Heck, I even got to sleep a half hour later than usual. It sure didn’t feel like it though. Something to do with four hours of sleep I suppose.
It was quite a lively discussion at times last night. Without going into details I was rolling several times. Zonker’s barf bag. Poan Sta’ Eyes. I am truly looking forward to this years Blogtoberfest in Helen. Just have to cross my fingers and hope that I can get the weekend off.
Thursday Thongs
Last night at Mellow Mushroom there were a couple of really hot chicks hanging out. Of course, we had a couple of hot ones hanging with us as well but these were a couple of fine young things that were probably wearing those skimpy thongs. I don’t know for sure as I didn’t drink enough to ask them. Anyway, that got me to thinking. I have Monday Manboobs and Tuesday Tramp Stamps so why not Thursday Thongs. Without any further ado I present to you, Thursday Thongs…
Sometimes You Have To Pay The Piper…
I so didn’t want to drag my sorry ass out of bed this morning. Have you heard the old saying If You’re Gonna Play, You’ve Gotta Pay? I am paying the piper this morning. Not that I got trashed or anything. I had a grand total of one beer last night. I don’t do any kind of serious drinking on work nights. No, I am just tired as hell. I was up at the usual time yesterday and ended up getting in from Atlanta shortly after midnight, going to be a little closer to one, so I have pretty much been up for two days now with a four hour nap in between.
Had a pretty darn good time though. A couple of the usual suspects showed up to observe Velociman pass through town like the migration of a rare bird, even Kelley and Key drove down. I had the opportunity to also meet John Cox as well. New blood. Good conversation, good beer, although Key had some sort of pink martini combination that I would definitely have to shy away from. It would be much too easy to slurp those down.
The drive was somewhat interesting for me as well. Driving in to Atlanta I went across the top end and cut up Roswell Rd and then down Windsor Parkway. What’s interesting is the fact that there are some really beautiful houses down Windsor Parkway. The last time I drove down that road was 25 years ago. At that time the area between Peachtree Dunwoody and Brookhaven was affectionately knows as Nick St or Nicklebag Alley. You get the general idea. Slums, plenty of houses falling in. Pull up at a couple of certain stop signs and four or five black guys would run out to the car if your window was down and try to sell you a nickle bag, which of course was $5 at that time. Woe to the unwary traveler who was not familiar with the area. When you pull up at a stop sign and have several black kids run at your car from all directions the first reaction most normal people have is either to hit the gas and get the fuck out, or roll up the windows and lock the doors so quick that your head would spin. I suppose every locale has it’s own Nick St, or at least they used to. I don’t know anymore, maybe it’s hidden a bit better now.
Anyway, all of the falling in tenements have been replaced with small fortresses and tiny mansions more akin to the Brookhaven area. There are still a few of the houses that were there two decades ago, but most of them are gone.
Heading home I took the fastest route, straight down Druid Hills to 85 South and out I-20 west. The problem with driving home late at night when I am already tired, in addition to my night vision sucking so bad is the fact that after having lived in West Georgia for 18 years I find I am scared of traffic. I grew up in Atlanta. It was nothing to run across five lanes of traffic to catch a bus, or drive doing 90 MPH around the Atlanta International Speedway, officially known as I-285. If you’re not doing at least 75 you are slowing down traffic. And those fuckers don’t just drive fast either. They swerve around all of the other cars bobbing in and out of lanes so close to each other it would make Don Garlit proud. Even though I spent three years commuting from out here to Norcross every day until 2003 I am not used to it anymore. I white-knuckled it the entire way out of Atlanta.
Working on my second cup off coffee now and I am starting to wake up a bit in the time it has taken me to write this and correct the typos. Spelling only folks, the grammar will just be fucked forever. Forgive me but no amount of schooling can take away from 40 years of redneck living particularly when the last 21 has been working at my particular choice of careers.
I had originally planned on staying home last night and pumping out about fifteen or twenty paid posts and twice that of normal stuff and then do my paperwork for the meeting this afternoon, but that rare bird of prey Shit Mummage Man was calling and sometimes the call of relaxation and good company just cannot be ignored.
It’s now about six, so I have to hop int he shower and head my happy ass off to boss people around again. It’s also meeting day for the retarded folks that I work with. I shall return, but a bit later today unless I get some good pics between now and then.