clear 4g wireless: epic fail

All I wanted to do was order some damn tickets for an upcoming The Dutchess and The Duke show. Now my drunk ass is up writing a rant about the shitty internet disservice provided by Clear (formerly known as Clearwire, and before that, Xohm). Hint: there is a reason for the name changes. And that reason is: that which we call Clear by any other name would smell just as fecal.

Cliff’s Notes:

Do not get Clear internet. Clear sucks and is without a doubt the worst motherfucking ISP ever. Seriously, Clear is awful. Do not get Clear.

we can put a man on the moon, but reliable internet is beyond us

Who do I have to sleep with in this country to get some decent goddamn internet service? As previously discussed I hate Comcast. In contrast, Sprint was pretty cool, but 3G was just too slow to stream teh pr0nz. So when Clear came out with 4G, promising speeds up to 6MB/s, I was first in line to sign up. Turns out, Clear sucks more dick than Priya Rai.

6 MB/s, my ass, try 1 MB/s

At first, Clear was totally awesome. They advertised 6MB/s and I was getting 2 - 3MB/s at home in downtown Atlanta about 10 yards from the cell tower. That is about what I was expecting, since wireless always works about half as good as advertised*. At my friend’s place in Inman Park, I got over 6MB/s on several occasions.

Then Clear started sucking. Now I am lucky to get 1 MB/s, if the service even condescends to actually work. For comparison purposes, that would be approximately as fast as my fucking 3G Iphone (more on this later). Fuck Clear.

oh, so you don’t like 1 MB/s? then try 0 MB/s, bitch

While disappointing, the slow speeds were tolerable. However, in the past month, Clear has been going down completely for hours at a time. Amazingly, when service goes down, Clear’s technical support never seems to be open. I suppose this beats Comcast, because at least I do not have to spend three hours on hold to be told the outage is my fault and I need to power cycle the modem**.

a backup plan

After getting fucked in the ass multiple times by Clear’s crappy internet, I came up with a backup plan for when the intert00bz go down. Luckily, I previously spent too much money on an Iphone. Conveniently, Steve Jobs, the One True God™, saw fit to enable tethering in the Iphone’s 3.x OS. Of course the shitheads at AT&T are not on board with that, but with my mad Google skills, I got it working and am writing this now while Clear is down. Pretty fucking sad when America’s shittiest cell phone provider works better than Clear Wimax.

clear sucks and is not recommended

Just to be clear, Clear is NOT recommended. Clear is a complete and utter rip off. Also, for the record, Sprint and Comcast own large stakes in Clear. So do not think Sprint’s 4G service will work any better than Clear - Sprint is using the exact same hardware and towers and simply charging more. Sort of like a Lexus ES350 is just a glorified Camry.

Other people on the intert00bz who also think Clear sucks:


* Unless the provider is AT&T - then it works 25 percent as good as advertised, if at all.
** Which never fixes a fucking thing.

slice: long term test

I have lived in Ghettoberry Hood for a few years now, and Slice is a restaurant I frequent like Elliott Spitzer patronizes hookers. For those overachieving Prizzo Skeezy readers who want to view my earlier thoughts on Slice, use the motherfucking search box, as I am too drunk and lazy to include links to previous reviews.

PBR here we are. Waiting for a calzone. Barkeep bring me another tall boy of that singular swill. Fucking finally the goddamn booze kicks in and life is smoove. A smile for the pretty waitress.

The pepperoni calzone arrives, hot like a Cleveland Steamer, but far more tasty. Slice is highly recommended. Every time I have been over the last two years, the food has always been tasty, service has been exemplary, and prices are reasonable.

This review would be incomplete without mention of the ambiance. Because ambiance is clearly the most important attribute of a restaurant. Every time I walk into Slice, I feel so motherfucking hip and urban.

Slice on Urbanspoon

came in eighteen to one

Smooth rich burn of cognac, mitigated by peach, hint of mystery and depth in the mint finish. Eyes the color of the eastern sky seconds after sunset. Pretty as a Jack Rose and reminiscent of an Escher drawing.

255 tapas lounge review dos

Last week, The Photographer and I hit 255 Tapas Lounge for dinner on a weeknight. While I had been less than enthralled on my previous visit, she noted her interest in going when we passed by on our way to Slice one evening. I also wanted to stop in again to see if things had improved.

behold the power of cheese

I was suspicious that owner Courtland Jackson’s comment on my previous review of 255 Tapas Lounge was someone playing a prank. I certainly did not expect him to change anything I criticized. I mean seriously, who listens to a web site that had a daily readership of cinco at its peak and has substantially less than that now?


Upon arriving, we were seated quickly. Soon after, an attractive waitress showed up, listed some drink specials, and took our order. She quickly returned with the drinks and took our food order. Food delivery was also prompt. Service is good and has been massively improved since my last visit.

drink specials

The aforementioned drink specials were a five dollar Apple Martini, Cosmopolitan, or Margarita. Obviously, I ordered the Apple Martini - not! The Margarita was reasonably tasty and at five dollars, a decent value. This was an immense improvement over my last visit and overpriced Guinness.


The Photographer and I ordered crab tots, calamari, and baby burgers. As last time, the food prices were appropriate to the portion size. Also similar to my last visit, the food was really fucking delicious. Crab tots are a brilliant idea and mighty tasty - they’re essentially miniature fried crab cakes and explode with flavor. The baby burgers were beyond excellent, I had the Baby Angus and Baby Chicken. Both were exquisite, the Baby Angus tasted like steak on a bun and the Baby Chicken was crisp and flavorful.

the verdict

With decent service, drink specials, and stand out food, 255 Tapas Lounge is now highly recommended.

255 Tapas Lounge on Urbanspoon


Under a black ice sky, a residentially challenged elderly man stumbles across a frozen lake and into an abandoned fishing shelter. He sits and stares and wonders why the writer never writes.

On a porch overlooking the lake, a dreamer fantasizes about a sultry chipotle waitress with onyx hair constrained in a ponytail spilling halfway down her back.

At a pizza joint deep in the middle of Georgia two waitresses converse.

“Did you get that call?”

“No, I don’t know how to answer the phone.”

advertisement fail

While watching Bad Girls Club, I have been bombarded with commercials about high fructose corn syrup during every single fucking break. Each advertisement is slightly different, but the theme is the same - they strongly imply high fructose corn syrup is perfectly safe and just like sugar.

If high fructose corn syrup is really perfectly safe, why all the advertisements? And why is the statement high fructose corn syrup is perfectly safe never said outright? Any budding lawyers out there want to take on big corn?

where the workers have no factories

An apparently homeless old man rests in the doorway of a dingy stone unclearly vacant commercial building in the early morning. Across the street from him is a monolithic block of faded and half heartedly maintained row houses. Every now and again one of the homes is boarded up, a hint of despair amongst the sad repetition of the facades. A ray of dawn sunshine flashes through the somber clouds and dances briefly along the houses. The man takes a long pull from a stainless steel flask concealed in his jacket and goes back to contemplating possible pasts.

A pilgrim happens upon a cerulean pool. He kneels and watches reflections cross the water.

A young man stares at a photograph at one of the numerous exhibits in Atlanta’s gallery district. While the image is of a striking female figure, his gaze appears focused on ambiguous shapes of infinite probabilities in the background.

Two men in a late model nondescript car of indeterminate origin, possibly of foreign manufacture, are driving along a rural four lane divided highway. Trees flash by and the occasional marker of generica, such as an Exxon Station or McDonalds, jumps up out of the landscape and rapidly shrinks in the rearview. On occasion, the passenger jots something in red pen on a notepad. The men are talking.

“All that fake tan shit pisses me off. What I really dig is alabaster skin untouched by the sun. That drives me wild.”

“A blonde eyed black is what I like.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“How the fuck should I know?”

siam square thai cuisine review

The other day, a couple of friends and I ate lunch at Siam Square Thai Cuisine on Windy Hill Road in Smyrna. As is common in Atlanta, Siam Square is a tasty restaurant cleverly hidden in a run down strip commercial shopping center.

Inside, the decor is nothing special. While I like to take a leak in a bourgeoisie Johnson Studio designed can as much as the next young upwardly mobile Atlantan, I strongly prefer that restaurateurs spend their cash on quality food instead of tasteless ambiance.

As a starter, I ordered the coconut soup. While the soup was delicious overall, the chicken was limp and lacked flavor. Siam Square’s coconut soup is recommended. One of my friends requested spring rolls for the table. The rolls were crispy and mighty tasty.

For the main course, I had green curry with shrimp. The green curry was nicely spiced and appropriately hot. The dish was quite delicious, however, I still like Malaya’s version better.

Service was excellent, our waiter was attentive without being overbearing. Siam Square Thai Cuisine is highly recommended.

Siam Square Thai Cuisine on Urbanspoon

merry christmas, internet

In the days of way back, before the Goo Goo Dolls wrote Name and figured out they could cash more checks and get more chicks by being pansies and every fucking rock and roll radio station in the country did not include either edge or x in their name, Robby Takac dj’d a little show called Modern Rock on the Fox. One of the downright excellent bands Mr. Takac introduced me to through his show was the Pogues. Enjoy, and to all five of you, thanks for reading.

winter mist

The Man leaves the Atlanta Urinal Constipation, a sorry excuse for a newspaper, laying around the break room. While I feel the Atlanta Urinal Constipation is a completely useless contribution to the carbon footprint of Atlanta, reading even a worthless paper is better than working, so I occasionally peruse it. Amazingly, last Monday I discovered the Winter Mist in the Atlanta Urinal Constipation. Much to my surprise, the Winter Mist is a decidedly interesting cocktail.

The Winter Mist was created by Stephanie Ruhe, who mixes at The Mansion on Peachtree in Buckhead. Since I would prefer not to be caught dead in Buckhead*, I will likely never grace that particular establishment and experience her concoctions. Therefore, I was grateful to find the recipe printed in the Atlanta Urinal Constipation.

The Winter Mist is reminiscent of Key Lime Pie in concept, but not flavor - the drink looks sweet, but has a nice tartness and complex flavor. The initial flavor is bitter lime, nicely offset by simple syrup. Next, the subtle mint hits the palate. Finally, the herbal flavorings of the absinthe and gin kick in. Overall, the Winter Mist is a well balanced drink.

Prior to tasting it, I had misgivings, as the recipe calls for a full dose (one ounce) of absinthe. A drop of the anise flavored liquor is usually more than enough flavor a drink, however, in this recipe, the absinthe does not overwhelm the lime, mint, and gin. Based on this drink, Ms. Ruhe clearly has mad mixology skills.

This drink pours a gorgeous cloudy light green, complements of the absinthe’s louche. While the Winter Mist looks pretty and tastes great, it packs a serious punch in terms of alcohol, calories, and flavor. One is most assuredly enough.

Because the Atlanta Urinal Constipation requires an annoying registration, the recipe is as follows:

  • 1.5 ounces gin;
  • 1.0 ounces absinthe;
  • 1.0 ounces simple syrup;
  • 0.75 ounces lime juice; and
  • 3 sprigs fresh mint.

In a shaker, muddle mint and simple syrup. Add the gin, absinthe and lime juice and shake with ice. Strain into a martini glass and garnish with mint.


* This is a serious concern, because dying in Buckhead is not unusual. Despite efforts by area businesses to paint the area as the new bourgeoisie shopping district, Buckhead citizens are forcibly removed from the neighborhood if they do not shoot at least four people before breakfast. Even criminals who do not normally operate in the area stop by to enhance their street cred. For example, Brian Nichols, who went on a murderous rampage led a slave rebellion back in 2005, also stopped in Buckhead and whacked a federal agent after escaping from the highly secure Fulton County clink.