|
Did Pilgrims Really Eat This Shit?
|
11/29/2005
|
You are about to find out why the holidays don't really do it for me. If you are oversensitive to cynicism or frequently miss the point, stop reading now.
I know people who hate the holidays because they don't like being around their family. A year or two ago I went to a girlfriend's house for Thanksgiving or Christmas, and hers was the kind of family that communicated by screaming at each other (helping me understand why she thought that was an acceptable way to talk to me). I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I would stay home if that was my situation. Fortunately, all of my best memories were made in the company of my family, so I don't have that problem.
In fact, I don't actually hate the holidays, I just sort of don't get them. I understand what people are celebrating and why, but I don't understand all of the crap that comes with it.
Thanksgiving...okay, here's a chance to have a good dinner with your family and rock the 4 day weekend like a champ. My fundamental issue with thanksgiving is that I'm not a huge fan of that kind of food, but you have to eat it.
Turkey- I've had great turkey, good turkey, and average turkey, but if you want me to be truly thankful, let's have Steaksgiving.
Dressing- Only different from stuffing in the fact that it hasn't spent any time in a turkey's ass. Made of various indistinguishable bread crumby things with some vaguely onion-like spices. Not delicious. Some people even cram the giblets (euphemism for slimy entrails and organs) inside the turkey and claim that it becomes food after you cook it. Those people are called "Devil Worshippers" or "Fear Factor contestants." One handy food rule I follow is that if it has ever been inside another animal for any reason, don't eat it. Yes, that includes the "turducken" culinary abomination (also steer clear of any food that begins with "turd"). Now if you tried to feed me a something called a "Vealsteakenwing", I may be forced to reevaluate.
Cranberry sauce- Does anyone know what this stuff is? Someone used a steel 10 oz can as a mold for bitter red flavored jell-o and now it's a staple of Thanksgiving?
Random pickled and spiced fruits- Thankfully I am not subjected to these items very often, but when I am it is at someone else's house where you are a dick if you don't at least try it. The problem with that is that when you have an untouched and unidentifiable piece of something marginally edible on your plate, everyone comes at you like "Oh, don't you like Aunt Karen's desiccated clove kiwi?" And all this time you thought it was a coaster.
There is no way to be honest about it without feeling like a total knob. In fact, even trying to lie about it is pretty useless. "Oh, I'm saving the best for last. And I'm a huge liar because I'm going to slip it into the baby's diaper when no one is looking."
Yams- Aren't these the same thing as sweet potatoes? In any case..eh. I can't say I dislike them, but I don't wake up thanksgiving morning with a massive Yam-on.
Pumpkin Pie- If I said I didn't like it, I'd probably be the only one, so I'll put it in the same category as yams. It's pretty bland, but saying you don't like it is like saying you don't like lighthouses or garbage bags. Pumpkin pie just exists, but it does so in a way that makes you think it is a very vital part of the food chain.
Cake- not traditional thanksgiving fare, and I don't eat much of anything in the dessert category, but aren't we all just a little happier knowing that cake exists? Cake gets a thumbs up from this blogger because we have so much in common. White and fluffy, putting smiles on faces all over the place, but too much of us will make you fat, stupid, and gassy.
And don't write me letters telling me that I would die for your pumpkin pie. I wouldn't. I have eaten 33 thanksgiving dinners as of the year of our Lord 2005 (maybe more- I've been known to attend multiple dinners), and while many were very delicious, there is no can-shaped berry substance that I will like, even if your grandmother made it with pure love. And if it's not a cucumber, it doesn't need to be pickled.
Next month- why Christmas (or whatever they are calling it this year) is dead: from politics to commercialism.
 Dusty
RELATED LINK:
|
|
posted by Dusty at 2:23 PM |
|
|
|
Sneer And Loafing At The Georgia Aquarium
|
11/22/2005
|
On Saturday I was honored to be considered "press" and allowed into the Georgia Aquarium for the press junket. I don't know if it was a junket or even what junket means. I just love that word.
There were lots of cameras and people furiously scribbling notes on pads of paper, asking nosy questions and giving calculated answers.
Thing number 1 not to do at the aquarium- In the main ballroom, they have a window that looks into the 80 billion gallon pan-dimensional plesiosaur habitat. Andy had what I thought was a brilliant idea to pour a little water out at the base of the window and say "I think it's leaking." Yeah. Don't even offer that up as a funny idea. The walls have ears, and so do the employees of the aquarium. They have also mastered the disapproving scowl, as I would learn after failing numerous times to keep my stupid mouth shut.
The mayor was there, the governor, the guy who invented Home Depot, the boss of Coca-Cola, Airtran's head ninja, and some other extremely rich and important types who donated nine kapillion dollars each to help build the place. Everyone was seated for the speeches and thank yous characteristic of such events. Three rows from the back there sat Atlanta's top three smartasses. Myself, Creative Loafing's Andisheh Nouraee, and Nathan Abbott (publisher of Atlanta illustrated, Chief Ociffer of Wednesday Night Drinking Club, and licensed interpretive dancer for the Toys for Twats foundation). Wearing my press pass and cynicism sombrero, I settled in fully expecting a bunch of self-congratulatory transparent corporate bullshit and nosing of brown.
I don't know if I was disappointed or relieved to find that the presentation was largely devoid of eye-rolling moments. Not to say that there wasn't an audible groan from the audience when the Governor mentioned his excitement about the possibility of Atlanta being home to the NASCAR Hall of Fame, but most of the rest of it was actually impressive. I mean, they built the biggest aquarium in the world in two years. It would have taken me at least three, and mine would really suck.
After the ribbon cutting, we were allowed into the individual exhibits. Honestly I have never seen anything like it. Atlanta now has one thing that is worthy of actually drawing tourism here. I don't even know if I could have imagined some of the stuff they did. The individual exhibits are branded by the companies that financed them, of course, as is the trend with every venue built in the past ten years. The Hooters underwater petting zoo was pretty rad, with a shallow pool of various sea creatures you could touch. There was even a sign that said "please touch". Just like at Hooters.
I can only imagine the sinking feeling a prawn gets when he finds out he's going into the grabby tank.
"You've been transferred to the petting pool."
"Why? What kind of sicko wants to pet a prawn?"
"Hey, I don't make the rules. Tell the sea cucumber and that orange starfish that they're coming too."
"Okay, I sort of understand the starfish, but the Sea Cucumber? I like him and all, but he looks like a knobby turd. This is stupid."
"Oh really? Would you rather be transferred to Wolfgang Puck's hall of hors d'oeuvres? Because I can make that happen too."
"Alright...let me grab my ipod."
Disapproving scowl #2 came when Nathan was overheard asking me "Do you think there are starfish on Uranus?" and I followed with a less funny joke about a taintfish. Professional as the day is long.
They had otters, Sea Lions, a Yeti, and a bunch of penguins. The penguins were cool because they waddle around and look cuddly but you can tell that behind the pleading birdy eyes they really want to rip your face off. The penguin exhibit features a little tunnel you can crawl into and poke your head up inside a Plexiglas waterfowl protection device among the penguins. They come over to you and peck at the glass and try in vain to violate your skull in some way.
Disapproving scowl #3- I taunted the penguins from inside my protective chamber, mocking their flightlessness. Penguins are apparently very sensitive about that.
And oh my god the river thingy exhibit was the coolest thing I have ever seen that included fish. A responsible journalist would look up the proper name and write "The Metamucil 'Keep it flowing' River Adventure..." but I am neither responsible nor journalist.
The River Adventure started out awesome to the tenth power and got exponentially better around every corner. The river flows over your head in some places, making you realize that fish are slightly less interesting when viewed from the bottom. On the other hand, you are looking up at fish without having pissed off a mob boss, so it is unique.
One of the guys there showed me a scar on his finger that he got when a piranha bit him. That settles it. Every scar on my body will henceforth be piranha related except the dinosaur bite on my back. I was so rapt in his tale of near death by fish that I almost forgot that there were piranhas in the building with me and I could go look at them.
On the way to the piranha tank, we passed a tank full of south American fish. Peacock Bass, an aquatic species of pinata, and a fish called an Arrowana. Arrowana grow to ten feet in length and can jump up to 15 feet out of the water to snatch unicorns right out of the sky. Swear to god. They feed them unicorns.
And their name rhymes with a popular smokable drug.
Leading to disapproving scowl #4- Nathan asks the guy if they are swimming in bong water.
I assumed the guy had heard that joke 900 times that day, but further questioning revealed that Nathan Abbott will go down in history as the first person ever to make that joke in the Aquarium.
The piranhas were underwhelming and didn't look at all like they did in the movie of the same name. I guess I got there just after they dropped a live cow in the tank to be reduced to bones in three seconds. There were people asking the obvious question, "What do you feed them?" To which I gave the obvious answer, "Hobos. It's all part of Shirley Franklin's plan to end the homeless problem in Atlanta."
Disapproving scowl #5 came from several faces. Maybe the fact that the mayor was in the building had something to do with it...
Well, New Year's Eve is just around the corner, and many of you are probably wondering where the best party ever in the universe will be. I've been doing some work with Wednesday night Drinking Club for the past few months or so, and I think we have an acceptable venue.
GEORGIA AQUARIUM FOR NEW YEAR'S FREAKIN' SWEET EVE, ANYONE?
It's officially happening. Wednesday Night Drinking Club will be the first to have a major event at the Aquarium, and you can be there. Maybe even see and taunt yours truly if you get there before I get kicked out. Even if you already have less awesome plans somewhere else, click the link and check out my first attempt at a funny flash animation. Turn your speakers on for the full awegasm.
Do you think Ru San's Sushi Restaurant should cater the event? The Baby Seal sashimi is divine. And cute.
Disapproving scowl #6
Dusty
RELATED LINK: http://www.wednesdaynightdrinkingclub.com/nye2006/
|
|
posted by Dusty at 4:56 AM |
|
|
|
Worse Than Creed?
|
11/14/2005
|
After my off-hand slam of Nickelback in last week's column, I started wondering to myself if it was a deserved insult. Okay, maybe the songs they play with skullhammering regularity on every radio station on the FM dial are just the worst songs they have written. Maybe their lead singer was in an accident as a child that left him dreamy, yet developmentally disabled. Maybe I am simply trying too hard to fill the void of shittiest fagband in the universe that was left when creed broke up. There are all sorts of explanations.
Then Chad Kroeger himself appeared in my dream and bestowed his wisdom upon me like a dipshit enema. He kept saying, "Google me, assbite. Then tell me I suck." As it turns out, my insults were understated if anything. It also turns out that "Googling" is actually a slang term for a sex act involving a wireless keyboard and any animal that starts with the letter "R". Like "Rarmadillo".
Below, I have the results of a painstaking genetic test. Using a fistful of Scott Stapp's Pubes (don't ask) and one of Chad Kroeger's teeth that fell out when he got his ass kicked while Googling a Raardvark, I stuck the whole unfortunate pile in the microwave and set it on "Splice DNA". When I opened the door I was horrified.
Yes, I immediately killed it. It was over as soon as I could close the door and hit the "destroy abomination" button. Now my house smells like baked ox placenta AND I have the secret formula to writing Nickleback songs.
To compose lyrics to the next steaming turd of a rock song, you will need the following-
1 pair- faded blue jeans with holes in them
7 pounds- Afghan triple blue sunrise skunk weed
1 Neurosurgeon (optional)
Toby
2 pens
1 notebook
Put on your jeans and smoke weed until everything you think about seems like the best idea ever. You will need to remain in this state for the rest of your life so you don't come to your senses and kill yourself. If you can't afford that much pot, have the neurosurgeon open your skull and destroy every part of your brain that is not responsible for breathing.*
Now grab your pens and notebook and go out looking for a place to reflect deeply on tired cliches. A playground is a good place to do this because there aren't many adults around to make fun of you and that's where you'll find Toby.
Toby is the kid with a penchant for the repetitive, and one of his favorite games is, "YOU SAY A WORD AND I'LL RHYME IT. GO."
All. Damn. Day.
His parents are having him checked for Attention Abundance Disorder, but so far all they know for sure is that he's weird. Typically he can be found on the swings, counting. He can be instrumental in such Nickleback lyrics as "I asked you to stay...but you said there's no way."
Nickelfact: The day Chad Kroeger wrote the song "Photograph", he was stumped for prose when he noticed that he was holding two pens. In a blinding flicker of inadequacy, he realized that the pens rhymed with each other. He was very very stoned, but still able to compose the following verse-
"This is where I grew up
I think the present owner fixed it up
I never knew we'd ever went without
The second floor is hard for sneaking out."
Yes, Chad. Words rhyme with themselves. You want another juice box? Oh wait. We're out of no-talent Hackleberry.
So the 2 pens are really there to remind you that inspiration is all around you. And that you are retarded.
Now sit and write as fast as you can, and be sure to include heretofore unused phrases like "the wings of an eagle" and "heart of stone" liberally throughout. Don't worry, Toby can rhyme it for you.
If you are a purist, feel free to bleach your hair, grow a goatee and squint at everything as if you are thinking about something. Soon enough, you'll see this in the mirror.
If I can do it, so can you:
Hero Eagle (sung to the tune of Photograph. If you haven't heard the song, turn on any radio. It is playing.)
Tired of listenin to crap
Thought it all would end with Stapp.
Thought I'd take a stab at rockin' out
Just to see what it was all about.
Sometimes I wanna' kill myself
Put my heart upon the shelf
Hero Eagle I keep going on,
Makin' pudding till the break of dawn.
And this is my shitty song,
Just like Nickelback would write a song,
I don't know how to write a song,
It's pretty hard to write a song.
In that last line I shoulda' used wrong,
Because I think wrong rhymes with song.
In fact so does Donkey Kong
And even funny words like Dong.
(chorus)
Writin' songs about eagles in the doo doo pie,
Soaring like a hero up in the sky
Me and Toby sittin' underneath a tree
W-R-I-T-I-N-G
(background)We're writing, we're writing
Thinking back to the days of tears and pain
Bought a little motorscooter from a guy named Wayne
Not relevant to me and Toby and this tree
W-R-I-T-I-N-G
(background)We're writing, we're writing
Smackledee booyah hah
Weepeedeepe noodle caca
Bird turd makin me blue
Try to think about something new
Toby's countin' bugs in the dirt,
Got a dried booger on his shirt
Hero eagle monkey dance,
I think Toby just shit his pants.
This is the next to last verse
Didn't think it could get much worse
Don't know how much more I can take,
Sweet baby Jesus in an easy bake.
Nickleback is my new bitch.
My lobotomy scar is starting to itch
If I could only get my finger in
Sure am glad I brought an extra pen
(repeat chorus until you claw your eyes out)
*this is also required if you want to be a Nickleback fan.
Wednesday night Drinking club is TONIGHT (assuming you are reading this on Wendnesday) at Park Tavern. Come buy me a beer and I'll make up a nickleback song on the spot. Click the linky for more info.
Dusty
RELATED LINK: http://xorbia.com/rsvp/wndc/november/
|
|
posted by Dusty at 5:13 AM |
|
|
|
Shirley You're Joking
|
11/9/2005
|
Atlanta is fast becoming known for the following-
Bankrupt airline
Crumbling sewer system
Questionable power grid
Absurd property taxes to help pay for it all.
With that in mind, what would be the very best way our fine city could spend $6,000,000?
If you said "Hire a marketing company to make a new logo for the city and write a hip new song about the ATL", you are at once a complete moron and absolutely correct.
Don't get me wrong- I like living in Atlanta...I just think of this city as the insecure awkward guy who doesn't know that his friends only keep him around for practical jokes. If Chicago, Boston, and New York invited Atlanta to a sleepover, they'd play hide and seek, but while Atlanta was trying to stuff himself into the cabinet under the sink the other cities would shit in his sleeping bag and see how long he'd stay hidden before he figured out that he was the only one playing. Not that that ever happened to me, but for some reason I identify...
Actually that last paragraph is a condensed account of my childhood.
So we re-branded the city. Atlanta went out and started taking creatine and going to the tanning bed, maybe threw in some highlights and bought a snowboard in an attempt to fit in. Awesome, because nothing will make people accept you faster than desperation.
Now we have a fancy one-color logo in coca-cola red, a slogan, and a new song.
The logo is what it is. Seemingly uninspired, but I couldn't do better myself because I tend to distance myself from worthless tasks. If I had to take a cynical stab at it, Atlanta's logo would be more like this-
The invoice is in the mail, Mayor Franklin.
The slogan- optimism, opportunity, openness. The three o's we all grew up not hearing from our parents and Sunday school teachers. These three words are surprisingly relevant to the city, but not in the context they intended. For instance, I was optimistic that they would have the brain power to take the opportunity to spend all of that money on something the citizens needed, but was open to the concept that they might do something stupid with it.
"Congestion, Confusion, Construction" is way more accurate, but I understand that it's not much of a branding vehicle.
Lastly, the song. I'm not going to tiptoe around this one, although I have learned from experience and observation that disagreeing with anything a black person says or does makes you a racist. Oh you think I'm lying? Well, maybe you should go pick up your hood and robe from the drycleaner, mister racist.
The song (available for public mockery November 10th) was written and performed by a music producer. Yes, you read that correctly. Dallas Austin has produced songs for some musical heavy hitters, but having a producer write a song is like having a stripper do your taxes. Even if she does it for free (and to his credit, Mr. Austin donated his time to create the anthem), you're going to have to have it done over.
The end result is a cacophonous r&b/hiphop casserole of something on the order of 912 vocal tracks, each one being a very impassioned singer going "OOoooaahooaoaoaoaaahhOOOOO" with the chant "A...T...L" in the background. One line says "Atlanta, where the music brings you to your knees, and we have lots and lots of trees" or some other lyric that could have been written by Nickleback. It even has a verse that says "Get em up, get em up, get em up, get em up".
If you think about it, every timeless classic anthem ever written has that verse in it. You can hear Ray Charles getting em up right after he sings the bit about the moonlight through the pines.
Dusty
RELATED LINK:
|
|
posted by Dusty at 7:30 AM |
|
|
|
