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5.31.2003

Beer Mitzvah

IF YOU ARE READING THIS AND YOU LIVE IN THE METRO ATLANTA AREA AND ARE DOING NOTHING TONIGHT AND HAVE SOME CASH BURNING A HOLE IN YOUR POCKET, TAKE ME, ATLSUPERSTAR, OUT FOR A PAULANER OR TWO AT MY FAVORITE DIVE THE EUCLID AVENUE YACHT CLUB.



Also known as simply The Yacht for people like me with their name on a bar stool.

Just a suggestion. And a cry for help.



A Shout Out

Thanks to Paul for being the FIRST to donate to my Help ATLSuperstar Become TEXSuperstar fund. MAD PROPS!

Also, here's a little idea I've been tossing around in my head. Stop me if you've heard it or thought of it already:

Instead of simply Guest Blogging on other people's sites, I suggest a little twist on that idea. How about if we Ghost Blog and write an entry as that actual blogger, in their style, using their lives and previous entries as guidelines. For example:

The part of Shanti will be blogged today by ATLSuperstar.

Then of course I'd proceed to write something angst-y, aggro, and totally hilarious and insightful. In the style of our Teen Queen Shanti.

COMMENTS, PLEASE.

Regards...



I've been around

I've been gone for like a week. And NOBODY noticed. Nice.

At any rate, I'll be leaving for a little while to go stay with my grandmother in the tiny town of Okemah, OK. She'll be having surgery next Friday to remove cancerous lumps from her breast and I just don't think I could handle being anywhere else but with her on that day.


5.24.2003

Thanks Cheeks

"In his earlier years Cheeta had a penchant for beer and cigars, reportedly drinking several cold ones a day. Westfall and Karajerjian said booze and smoke have not been a part of the old chimp's life since he came into their care ten years ago."

That's my kind of ape.





Still taking donations

Help ATLSuperstar become TEXSuperstar... Donate Today!!!










My sentiments exactly



5.23.2003

I could use a date.




Kicked in the gut, pt I

At least, feeling that way. I started taking fitness sessions at the YMCA I'm working at and my first one was BUTTS 'N GUTS, working nothing but abs and gluts and I can barely stand up straight and now I have to use two arms to just get up off the couch because I am in such fucking pain. Fitness is NOT FUN, no matter what Denise Austin would have you believe.

Kicked in the gut, pt deux

Heard from HIM, The Ex™, The One, and can't say it made me feel any better about the situation. In fact, it made me feel much, much worse. For one, it renewed angry feelings I'm trying to get rid of. Two, for the first time since The End I really sat down and fucking cried like a child. Three, being reminded of loving him reminded me of a line of one poem by Judith Viorst that goes "It is true love because.../When he is late for dinner and I know he must be either having an affair or lying dead in the middle of the street,/ I always hope he's dead." A little morbid, but when given the option...I am also reminded of Octavio Paz and Li-Young Lee (and if you haven't read that, it'll rip your soul from your chest) and Steve Earle and for god's sake even King Crimson, all in an unfortunate and overwhelming KABOOM.

And four, hearing from him made me realize I can suckerpunch, too.


Snuff

Someone found me at Google by searching "Violent Blow Jobs". It's all down hill from here, folks.

5.21.2003

An open letter


Dear The World:

Just because you very often, almost daily, have the chance to sucker punch me does not mean you have to take it. Please reconsider your epiphany-rousing tactics.

Thank you,

ATL



5.19.2003

SURPRISE!

Googled by "friends" and all your secrets revealed. Good thing I don't have that many secrets, eh?





I'm a criminal

I seriously just sold Hustler and Penthouse to this kid wearing his private school's t-shirt. I'm so dirty. Hell, he could have been a Senior, and maybe possibly 18. He probably wasn't, but whatever. He was a cool kid. I feel okay about it. It wasn't like I was selling him cigarettes, beer, or prostitutes.

At any rate, enabling aside, I need to raise some money and trip the light fantastic and get the hell outta this here Atlanta. I figured here's what it'll cost me to get out of my lease and move to Austin:

Loss of security deposit: $300
Payout of forfeited months: $450
Deposits for new place: $300
Rent for new place: $500
U-Haul rental: $130

Total moving cost: $1680

And I'm quite sure I haven't thought these costs through enough to catch some other expenses, but it'll be a minimum of $1680. I barely make that in 2 months of working.

Now you're sitting there thinking to yourself "That poor little Indian girl has to save up $1680 in 2 1/2 months? How ever will she do that? And how can I help?" Well I'm glad you asked. You can donate to the Help ATLSuperstar become TEXSuperstar Moving Fund (sorry, I haven't had time to come up with a clever title yet) through our friends at PayPal.










You know, if I was smarter and knew was gonna beg people for money I would have really kept the story about selling the high school kid soft porn my own dirty little secret. But if nobody has said or done anything about the noticable Cheeks / Shanti age disparity then I really have nothing to worry about. Maybe I'll use part of my donation fund for some counseling.

DONATE TODAY!!!





The hits, they keep a-comin'

The dream is over:

Elvis Costello is marrying Diana Krall, and not me.

Well, I hope you're happy now.





5.18.2003

A comment about Boz's comments on your comments about the movies he rented this weekend

The Missing HD Landfill and I decided a while back that there was some sort of formulaic approach to refunding the 2 +/- hours zapped away by lame movies in a dollar amount. It went a little something like this:




Your Time = $$$


HeightxWeightxHuman ValuexWeek Day ValuexQ Score-Movie Choice/Age=Refund
MalesHmWmVhVwdQmCaR
FemalesHfWfVhVwdQmCaR





FORMULA FOR FIGURING YOUR WEIGHT(W):

Get on a scale, smart guy.


FORMULA FOR FIGURING YOUR HEIGHT (H):

Invest in a tape measure.




FIGURING YOUR HUMAN VALUE (Vh):



Job Value (Vj) x Time spent doing good for others (Tg) - Time spent at the bar (Tb)
____________________________________

Number of friends, family, etc. your time is divided between (Tf)

or

(Vj) x (Tg) - (Tb)
_____________

(Tf)


FIGURING WEEK DAY VALUE:



Week Day Value


Prime Socializing HoursWork HoursMust See TV
Monday-3-15n/a
Tuesday105n/a
Wednesday255n/a
Thursday505150
Friday10025n/a
Saturday10050n/a
Sunday10050n/a



YOUR Q-SCORE:

Can be figured HERE.

YOUR MOVIE CHOICE:

Any movie starring Charlie Sheen (with the exception of Major League), Ryan Phillippe, Prince, pop singers, or the Olsen Twins are an automatic -1000.

Every other movie is worth 250.

FIGURING YOUR AGE

Check any state or government issued identification card.

Once you've gotten your dollar amount, you can then write the actors, writers, directors, movie studio, distributor, and video retailer and request they first apologize to you and then send you your money. Their percentage of responsibility breaks down like this:





Blame everyone but yourself, because you fell victim to false and misleading claims of entertainment.








Days gone by

Oh, Avalon, where are you now that I need you in my life?


Lovers in a Dangerous Time

Don't the hours grow shorter as the days go by
You never get to stop and open your eyes
One day you're waiting for the sky to fall
The next you're dazzled by the beauty of it all
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time

These fragile bodies of touch and taste
This vibrant skin -- this hair like lace
Spirits open to the thrust of grace
Never a breath you can afford to waste
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time

When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Sometimes you're made to feel as if your love's a crime --
But nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight --
Got to kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight
When you're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time
And we're lovers in a dangerous time
Lovers in a dangerous time


Thanks, Bruce Cockburn



5.17.2003

5000 Voyeurs

I'm nearing the 5000 mark on my hit-o-meter. Who's it gonna be? WHOOOOOOOOO????

Hey, by the way, I know there are some people who read and comment on my blog and I don't have you on The List over to the left there. Please let me know and I will update.

About to head out to a little b-b-q get-together and be sociable for once. Cheers.





That wacky Google

I love the fact that someone googled "I'm only 6 foot tall but I'm righteous y'all" and MY SITE came up #1.


5.16.2003

Can't hardly wait

Things are beginning to feel very FINAL around here. Today is my last day at the swirling, sucking vortex of bad management and lackluster programming here at the Atlanta History Center. However, the exhibits are FANTASTIC, so don't let my disenchantment with the staff sway you from visiting. Just don't try to speak reasonably with anyone who works here.

And I've finally told my mom I'm moving back to Texas. She is SO all for it. So, it's done. My decision is made. I'm definitely going to Austin at the end of August and I JUST CAN'T WAIT. For the second time in my life, I start over. I haven't told Hotdamn yet and I suspect it will be the hardest part about leaving here, but it's something that must be done.

I begin again, again.




Because I know you do read this

Hard-Core Troubadour

Girl, don't bother to lock your door
He's out there hollering, "Darlin' don't you love me no more?"
You always let him in before now didn't you
He's just singing the some old song
That he always sang before
He's the last of the hard-core troubadours
Girl, better figure out which is which
Wherefore art thou Goldman you son of a bitch
You'd just as soon fight as switch now wouldn't you
He's come to make love on your satin sheets
Wake up on your living room floor
He's the last of the hard-core troubadours
He's the lost of the all-night, do right
Stand beneath your window 'til daylight
He's the last of the hard-core troubadours
Baby, whet you waitin' for

Girl, figure out what you're gonna do
When he moves on again and he leaves you alone and blue
But you knew he is just passin' through now didn't you
And now you can't just say this is the last time baby
Like you always did before
He's the last of the hard-core troubadours


5.14.2003

Metajoke of the day:

(For all of you metageeks on Team Leyner or, like me, staunchly against Team Leyner, who know you are either on or staunchly against Team Leyner...this is also allegedly "scientific" "humor" for you math & science types who know you are math & science types and immediately recognize the irony of the joke you already know you are in. Got it?)

An engineer, a physicist and a mathematician find themselves in an anecdote, indeed an anecdote quite similar to many that you have no doubt already heard. After some observations and rough calculations the engineer realizes the situation and starts laughing. A few minutes later the physicist understands too and chuckles to himself happily as he now has enough experimental evidence to publish a paper. This leaves the mathematician somewhat perplexed, as he had observed right away that he was the subject of an anecdote, and deduced quite rapidly the presence of humour from similar anecdotes, but considers this anecdote to be too trivial a corollary to be significant, let alone funny.




5.13.2003

Southern Gothic

Freaky things happen on hot Georgia nights, after a few cold beers and highballs...


Meet My Thumb






Miss Budgie and Me...love (or at least my twisted version of it) hangs heavy in the humid air...






5.12.2003

Men are from Mars...yada fucking yada

Don't tell me my life has become a schlocky self-help book. Seriously. Every single title over there is like calling my name. I'll let you know if I start taping Oprah and Dr. Phil.

God. Why?
THIS is the most intriguing blog I've read in awhile, hoax or no.



5.09.2003

For most of the day, I'm fine. Really.

And then I think about The (ex)Boyfriend™ and I get a little sick feeling in my tummy like on a roller coaster incline in the split-second right before you see the actual plunge and the thought that you might actually die from this ride flashes in your head.




5.08.2003

I'm too tired to write today. And I have a headache. Thanks to the 4AM lurker outside my bedroom window last night that made my dog bark and howl madly for 20 minutes and subsequently caused me to stay awake for 3 hours. A mere 30 minutes before my alarm rang. Thanks. Thanks a lot you indigent fuck.




5.07.2003

Making moves

Big things are happening in the land of ATL. Some recent developments:

1. The Boyfriend™ dumped me. Okay, fine. I hate it. I feel like I can't think straight, but I have no choice in that matter. All I can do is figure out a way to pick up and move on.
2. I quit my job at the History Center.
3. I gained a summer job with they YMCA.
4. I have decided that my "friends" (excluding Hotdamn), and one in particular (the roommate), are unfortunately not worth any more trouble. I don't have it like Kevynn Malone and his love-fest©.
5. I can take no more of this city I've called home since 1999.

And, so, taking into account all of the above I have decided that this city just can't contain me much longer. After the summer, I will be moving to the great city of Austin, back to my home state of Texas, entering St. Edward's Univeristy and living like a fucking lunatic. I'm sending out resumes in the next few days and I've already found an apartment.

Damn. Things can change in the blink of an eye.

Fret not, dear readers. I will forever be your ATLSuperstar.




Dear Shanti,



Enid and Rebecca came by
to fuck you
but you were not here.
Therefore
you must be gay.



HAPPY BIRTYDAY ANYWAY.






Cheers and good luck on that driving test,

ATL






5.06.2003

I thought I'd spruce up the ol' place a bit. I added a cherry graphic on the left there. Enjoy.

XOXO...

5.05.2003

File this one under Fraudulent Claims




The Word Nerds would hate me

A Scrabble™ game gone horribly, horribly awry




A coupla things

1. I'm no linguistics expert, but I do know this for sure -

The word AUTHOR (this is primarily for people in the South) is spelled like this:

A - U - T - H - O - R


It's syllables are divided like this:

AU - THOR


It is pronounced like this:

AW - THOR



If you'll notice in the spelling, the only "r" comes at the very, very end of the word, and it is pronounced (as in "er"). In the first syllable of this word, there are two and only two letters. These letters are an "a" and a "u", but, obviously, no "r", hence, no "r" sound within the first syllable. IT IS NOT PRONOUNCED "AR - THER". "Arthur" is a man's name, and also a movie starring Dudley Moore. An "author" is a noun (and also a transitive verb, but we'll stick with day-one stuff for now), a person, probably much smarter than yourself, who creates literary works, also known as books, etc.

Try saying this phrase several times properly and see if you get the difference - "ARthur is the AUthor of several books." Keep practicing. In no time at all, you'll sound like someone with at least a 3rd grade education.

2. Questions such as "Do you have any ________________ books in the back?" will always be answered with a firm "No," followed by a swiftly and powerfully administered cockpunch. That goes for ladies, too. The magical, mystical back room has nothing in it but a broken coffee machine, a microwave oven from 1985, a mini-fridge with someone's month-old Taco Bell burrito, a bathroom, and stacks and stacks of papers that we can neither throw away or use. We are not trying to hide your Garfield cartoons, or hoard the new Libertarian rant, nor are we trying to befuddle your high school career by stowing away the Cliff's notes for Macbeth. Please, do not ask.

Thank you for reading.




Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, I'm out

I just turned in my resignation here at the Atlanta History Center. In 2 weeks, I'm out of this quagmire.

5.04.2003

Someone turned the lights out down in Atlanta

I've decided I need a brief change of scenery. I'm going to pick a weekend and get the hell out of Atlanta. Any suggestions?



5.03.2003

Say you, say me

You know things can only get better when you get e-mails that start out "last night I was drinking". Thanks, Mo.

All of you are too kind to me.

AND SO IS THE YMCA! I have been asked to be a Lead Counselor for their Leaders in Training summer camp program! Exciting, eh? Oh, ya gotta love the kids. And who the hell knew I was a leader?

My Mom™, who just got back from a cruise to Mexico, said this to me: "There was all the food you could possibly eat, non-stop liquor, and parties around the clock. You girls would have loved it." She was, of course, referrring to me and my sister. Boy, does she know me. And how.

I'm now rallying for the spot of Angel of the Month for May. I am Entry #7 and if you are a Boz Packer or a lurker, then make it known to Bozley that you want me for May Angel.








5.02.2003

I mean, really

Like who in this world could love him more than me?







The Boyfriend™ may not love me anymore,
but goddammit my sweet, sweet dog
thinks I can do no wrong.





This much is true.

Clerk: (handing customer credit card receipt) Here you go, sign this one for me.
Customer: (taking credit card receipt) You mean, this one?
Clerk: Yes, lady, sign the credit card slip that I was handing you as I was saying sign this one.


Can anyone tell me what this means?

http://pack.soksok.jp/y/.perd/

MY SITE at another URL. I don't understand.

Upd.-I backed up the URL on the mirror site and then clicked on it's HOME page and it's Japanese nudie shots. Gaze at will.
File this one under..
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!

I'd rather be eaten alive by a pack of street kitties.
Love is a Battlefield

And so is jockeying for positions as Summer Camp Counselors!

However, I have the YMCA and the Piedmont Park Conservancy battling it out for ME!!! So, on the first good note in the past 72 hours, I can now take my choice of who I want to work for this summer.

And, oh yeah, in case you haven't read that I'VE BEEN DUMPED, look forward to many a post about my breaking heart.

Someone send me a love letter.
The Boyfriend™

...dumped me Wednesday night.

I am at a loss. I can't think enough to write.


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