Requiem for a Green Thunder

Requiem for a Green Thunder 1994-2007

Some asshole stole my car on June 8th. It was between the hours of Midnight & 9 am, but because the HUB & I were nestled in the house making breakfast, drinking coffee & watching Kathy Griffin, I didn't realize until I was getting ready for the bout. Joel was in the shower & yelled "Um, babe?" "huh?" "Um, your car isn't in the driveway." I ran outside thinking he missed it being parked AT OUR FUCKING HOUSE. No dice. Green Thunder was gone. Some total piece of shit just threw my love of no car payments into the gah-bage. Yes, in the Edge-hood I guess your 1994 car is not safe. But the dude who owns the Benz next to me is a-ok. (Not that I wish his car was stolen instead. Well, yeah there is a small person in me who wished his car was stolen instead). He probably had theft insurance.

I will now conduct the eulogy for Green Thunder as she is probably already dismantled in a Chop Shop by this point (Fuck all you car thieves! She deserved to croak on her own! -- & at 13, it would've happened sooner than later-- not to be murdered by you complete shmuckos!).
Green Thunder, you've been with me since College. I remember I had to get you because the one that came before was totaled in Chicago when I was coming home for Thanksgiving & some dillhole ran a stop sign. Every time I drove through Chicago in you, I was scared. They really are the worst drivers in the entire universe. I mean, maybe Singapore is worse, but they are pretty effing terrible. Left turn from the right lane? Awesome. I hate to say it, but I loved you more than the one before you. Your speakers were radical (though in a few years, they were a little blown out) & blah blah great gas mileage & stuffs. One of my best friends from College christened you with a Buddha for the dashboard when I first brought you back to school-- he called it our "Chinese Insurance." You were with me through many Minnesota blizzards when I had to dig you out of the snow & you started every time (even when you had to stay on the streets overnight cause College apartments never have garages-- at least the ones I could afford). You weren't that pretty any more with all your wrinkles, dents & scratches (sometimes parking is hard, GT). But you were mine and I loved you. You kept all my CDs (gotdamn car thieves) even the Dr. Octagon I just found & brought back to you a week ago. And thinking on it, this really could be The Kool Keith Curse since I said his last show blew-- he may have powerful gris gris & I may have doomed you, GT.

Just realize this wasn't my choice, Thunder. I didn't trade you in for a newer model. I never cheated on you. You were radical & dependable as always. But I beg you, if those motherfuckers are driving you, I am going to need you to go ahead & drop your transmission. Please have every drop of your gas effing evaporate (I am sure that douche won't be going to any gas stations). Or how about you spring the airbag so that fucker breaks his nose & crashes? That would kick tons of ass & you definitely deserve some kamikaze or hari kari type action.

Cause GT, you earned it buddy.

RIP Green Thunder 1994-2007.

Cruising 101-- Imports for now

Cruising 101
Waaaay past due on this one, but whatevers.
In order to have a cruise not completely suck-- they might still suck even after you heed my warnings, but it will be less of a suck.

1.) Pack 1,000 bottles of water in your belongings. They try to freak you out by saying "only X amount will be allowed" but they lie. They want you to buy sodas & water on board-- so they'll try to cap your water limit. Eff those caps, do what you want.

The reason you MUST pack 1,000 bottles of water is that Cruise ship water is doodoo. Perhaps literally. It gives you the doodoos-- a.k.a building "Mayan Temples in the toilets" (Thanks, TK for that perfect reference). It smells like doodoo & it tastes like doodoo. Joel was soo convinced he had gotten the norovirus from the water, he began to brush his teeth ONLY with bottled water-- not Evian, cause we aren't rich jagoffs, but Dasani or some other less like doodoo bottled water.

2.) Pack booze. Hide it in your underwears, but PACK IT. The Cruise line will also try to make you too afraid to do this with assertions that it is ILLEGAL, blah blah blah JAIL blah blah blah THE BRIG blah blah blah. The real reason is not illegality, the real reason is they want you to buy their weak & sort of over priced beverages. Don't let them trick you. Getting through a cruise is only possible if you stay drunk.

3.) Cruise ship food is not really that good and could also literally be doodoo. Don't believe the people that say it is yummy. At least, it's not that good on Carnival. You can't buy vegetables on a Cruise ship. It is Pizza, Burgers, Fries or NOTHING-- for 1 day and a half that is totally cool! But 4 days & I cannot doodoo unless I have had a steaming glass of cruise ship water.

4.) If you like traveling but don't want to think about where you are going to eat, what new things you could see, etc. Please go on a cruise. It is a floating mall. You will love it! I overheard many people saying "It's sooo nice to not have to think about where we are going to eat." "It's soo nice to not have to get lost in a strange city" Awesome, people.. cruising is for you! If you do like to travel to other places away from Americans & experience other cultures as a minority & not a majority-- CRUISING IS NOT FOR YOU. If changing money is too difficult, if walking around is a pain in the ass, if reading a map is like deciphering Hieroglyphics, if you are scared to talk to strangers-- than cruising is for you!! Have at it!

5.) when you get to port, get in a cab & go. Talk to the cabbie, he will take you somewhere away from the boat. Do it. Go. Now.

6.) There was no shuffleboard on this particular ship.

7.) Dancing & getting drunk is always a great time. Grab a bunch of your friends, have them pack a buncha water, vegetables & booze & go on a cruise. Drunken dancing while the ship is swaying can lead to some new & improved dance machinery. Just stay away from the rail.

ATL: Gentrification & You, Pt.1 in a series of 701.7 square miles

photo by Chris Wilson (Google image search)

A famous Atlanta artist enriched my daily drudgery with these signs a few years back. The first time I saw one posted, I had to have it & pulled it off an L5P telephone poll. Whoever came up with idea to lube them up, in case the cops or I wanted to make off with the magicalness, was pretty brilliant. I was covered in the shit by the time I walked home.

As a beneficiary in Atlanta's recent gentrification, EDGEWOOD REPRESENT!, I'll try to be very conscious of my own hypocrisy as I try to give you a chronicle of why Atlanta's gentrification seems more retarded(dare I say dastardly? as an under 80 person without a Snively Whiplash mustache?) than what's going on in the rest of the country.

Gentrification is nothing new in the U.S. Atlanta's still in loaded diapes compared to everywhere else-- probably largely due to the affordability of the housing market & the glut of developers with a hard- on for sprawlgasming everywhere. In fact, I think Macon is now being considered "Metro Atlanta." And thanks to the excellent data at http://www.sprawlcity.org/hbis/index.html I have now learned that Atlanta's effing #1!!! (cue the coyote howling) with 701.7 square miles of sprawl. So, of course with all the new construction in & around Macon, Atlanta was late to the Gentrification party, y'all. The desire for old "stately" homes just wasn't there, not when a stainless steel range was also up for grabs.

Unfortunately, Atlanta Developers (again with the coyote howling) seemed to forget that we basically have 2 highways. Shit, there is no "basically" about it. We only have 2 highways in & out of the city- 85 & 75. We have 285, but you can only get onto it by 75 and/or 85. This is also the tragic flaw of I20, 78, 316 & 400. So good work, Georgia Highway Planners. Kudos to you. Our highways have been unable to support the massive amounts of people commuting from Macon, so another study says we have the 4th worst traffic in the country. We are breathing down LA's neck for the title of #1 (sleep with one eye open, LA). So yeah, blah blah blah all the white suburbanites are "over" traffic & want to hop back into the city. I am a touch cynical (can you tell? does it show?) & believe it's also because Atlanta's leading population of middle class African Americans are also heading to the 'burbs (of the sub & ex types) causing a rush to jump back in (and away). White flight's roundtrip, if you will.

Wait, what was I talking about? Oh! The fresh hell that is Atlanta's version of Gentrification. The dastardly nature of Atlanta's push back in & what makes it a beast unto itself is the city's unwillingness to not bulldoze everything that ages 25 years. I think it is hilarious that all Atlantans must visit the same 3 landmarks (read: buildings built before 1970) when they have company in town. Underground? Historic Mall with shitty shops & it's under ground! Frigging check. Rhodes Hall? Stood strong against Sherman! Frigging check check! Crispy- fried Margaret Mitchell House? Rebuilt 250 times after arson!! Frigging check. check. check. So we are stuck with Lofts. The Yuppie Ghettoes. The Overpriced Shitoles. Not old Lofts, mind you. Atlanta is in short supply of real, honest to god, ex-Industrial spaces as they have exceeded their 25 year old lifespan. Yep, those are very rare. We are instead stuck with a Developer's new vision for Urban Living. In Cabbagetown/Reynoldstown it's the Illtown Lofts (I refuse to call them Milltown Lofts, since the M keeps getting stolen & Illtown is far more appropriate.) We are drowning in Loft developments. Seriously. Drown. ing. They must have made some developers some money & now they all want a piece of the action. In my own neighborhood, EDGEWOOD REPRESENT!, we have a new development in the Retail District (which is also a new development, natch) mysteriously called The Shoe FactoryLofts. Why mysterious? Because they are BRAND. NEW. LOFTS. There wasn't a factory there. Ever? Ever. The randomness of attaching some fake effing trade is the most desperate marketing ploy I have heard of lately. Score one for retarded marketing folks & the folks who will buy in The Shoe Factory Lofts. You got a piece of Atlanta history there, folks.

Tis the Season.

I am making a list. I am rolling with my top 5 acceptable Xmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa presents. I am sucking religion out of it completely so bibles, dredels, wooden candle holders won't be making the cut. They wouldn't make the cut even if my list had a gajillion numbers because I am an American and the Holiday season is just a big old Greed Party. I call a spade, a spade.

ACCEPTABLE & PREFERRED:

5. Socks. You can never have too many pairs of socks. One always gets lost. I know. Every comedian alive has a bit about the one sock lost in a Dryer 4th dimension. And now that I have moved past puberty, I understand the glory that is new socks. Thanks, Lala!

4. Carton of cigarettes. I know per Judd Nelson in the Breakfast Club that a carton of cigarettes symbolizes an abusive father. Not so, Judd. Keep your incorrect stereotypes parked in 80s flicks. A carton of cigarettes symbolizes the deep abiding love a parent has for a child. Ask my mom.

3. Gift certificates. Let me say this again for all those that doubt the beauty of a gift certificate: Receiving a gift certificate is glorious because you can pick out your own shit. It is not boring, unoriginal, no thought. It is perfect. True. Right. As a girl, I always received stuff I couldn't use-- like perfume, costume jewelry, New Kids on the Block tapes. I wanted none of that. Thank you, Gift Certficate, for giving me back my Holiday autonomy, my god given Right to Choose.

2. Booze. I am an adult. Booze is good. Please. That is what I would like to receive.

1. Money. Receiving money from family is just like a big hug. It's like a Holiday get together without all the fighting.

Dancing with the Stars

What is this abomination? I feel as the Dreaded 30 approaches that I've managed to move past the shitty snobbery & elitism afforded to crazy youngsters who think they are cooler than everybody else. This was a banner year in Midterms. Some of my faith in the U.S. citizenry was restored. BUT! the popularity of Dancing with the Stars grabs ahold of me late at night & makes me shiver for the future of the U.S. I don't think starfucking is a strictly US pasttime. I mean, England is really afflicted. I totally get the blah blah blah psychology of the issue-- they are Rich! Beautiful! Glamourous! The rest of us are not all of those things... or any of those things, really. What confuses me is trying to understand the formula that makes these shows successful. What is appealing? Is it the dancing? Does it remind the MILLIONS of people who watch it of Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers? I get it. Ballroom dancing is hard. If I must be force-fed the reality show glut these days, I would much rather watch average people lose weight than overpaid & undertalented folks get more of a suck -off.

Also, please tell me why I can't unsubscribe to ABC network emails? I am shot out with a heavy dose of rage every time I log into my hotmail account. Wait, just tell me why they even have my email? Is there anything good to watch on ABC?

I weep for you, F.L.A. I weep.

Dear Future Leaders of America:
It has come to my attention during work hours at a large-ish University in Atlanta that I must resign myself to the impending Armageddon. Why, you ask? Uh, has reading become a thing of the past? Is it as out of fashion as eating? My daily elevator travails have taken on a level of the absurd as the term 'Express' rings no bells for you, FLAs. Signs that say 'Floors 1 & 7-10 only' might as well be written in a foreign language (one that you have forgotten as soon as your reqs are satisfied). My voice has betrayed me. It's reacted to the need to read by becoming hoarse. It creaks now "this is Express"-- you might not have heard-- if your furious button-pressing is any indication. Unfortunately for me & you, pushing 2 until your finger bleeds will not force the elevator to go your way. Holding the button is also, sadly, not going to get you there. If the button doesn't light up indicating it heard your desire, you are lost-- lost in the parallel world between 1 & 7-10. If you are going down to 1 (by default), you will not be able to change Express' mind on the way back up-- so please, step out of Elevator. Staring forlornly at the panel of buttons will not change Elevator's mind. Giving him puppy eyes & whimpers will get you nowhere. Your now substantially longer visit with Elevator will not reward you with a trip up to 3. Elevator de Express has no loyalty to those that visit with him.

It is remarkable what technology can do these days. Otis would be proud.

--Gaby

Slices of Lifes.

Halloween in Atlanta can be described as The BEST TIME OF THE YEAR (we might lack the same level of stimulation the rest of the year). The humidity gets turned down & the L5P Parade gears up. Lemme edit the original comment & say the L5P Halloween Parade can be described as The BEST TIME OF THE YEAR. Little 5 is Atlanta's answer to the East Village --- or so I'm told yearly by the Atlanta Journal Constitution. I think they use the same line annually so new suburbanites are familiarized with the L5P street cred & become not afraid. It's kind of a joke, since Little 5 has suffered in recent years from a Giuliani-ing so complete, it now has a Starbucks. The old junkies have been replaced by new gutter punks who roll in from the nether regions of "Metro" Atlanta with all the confidence & bravado afforded to those who know they have a comfy place to sleep at night. But I digress.

Halloween kicks ass, but it has come to my attention that the L5P Business Association has complained about some contributions to last year's Parade. They've stated some entries were "too scary." Bad business owners Association. Please do not sanitize the parade for the folks who attend with children. Look, my mom was an frigging Pro at the cover my eyes, cover my ears move. She could bust that shit out in the blink of an eye-- before I had ANY idea I might be about to witness some boobs or something crazy. Learn it, please? Become the link to Moms in the 60s, 70s & early 80s-- they had that shit down. It is like Mom reflex action-- like the arm extend when coming to an abrupt stop in the car.

I googled 'scary halloween pictures' & the Anubis is what I got. That's scary? I guess it is if you are an ancient Egyptian.

--G