Dear Leah,
Nice try. I am sure you expected me to show up at your office door and ask you out to dinner. However, I am too smoove for that sort of game. You are going to have to do better than just playing hard to get.
Saturday evening, I arrived early to Bohemian Debauchery to attend a VIP pre-party that did not happen. Thanks for calling and letting me know, Ashley. After I sat around making phone calls and watching the staff prepare for the night, Ashley finally showed up. She quickly redeemed herself and made it off the shit list by buying me a drink.
As people slowly wandered in, I chatted with Ashley in Eden. Finally, a decent amount of people arrived and I went searching for some debauchery to photograph. Sadly, there was none.
This event sucked donkey dick. On any given night, the now closed Chamber had roughly 3,000 percent more debauchery on display. The only thing even approaching debauchery here was one topless dancer. Whooptie fucking shit, down the road at the Cheetah they take it ALL off (according to Jennie anyway, I have never actually been there). I can not begin to describe how boring and ordinary this event was. I am not sure who dropped the ball this year, but based on the video, last year’s party actually was nasty.
The choice of a corporate venue did nothing to improve matters. This event would have worked far better as an all you can drink private warehouse party, where it could go over the top and get completely out of control.
eleven50 was cool when it first opened, but with the recent departure of the last original partner, it is so over. The interior of the club, like the patio, desperately needs an update. If I am going to pay $10 for a poorly mixed watered down cocktail, the venue had better be fucking beautiful.
In conclusion, corporations suck, support local entrepreneurs. I do not recommend this event.
PHOTO: Random dancer at Bohemian Debauchery, eleven50, Midtown, Atlanta, GA. June 26, 2004. Courtesy of d.2263 Photographics. View more Bohemian Debauchery.
After six months of writing this, a funny search phrase finally hit. Some lucky pervert searched for, “couples resorts where fucking is encouraged,” and ended up here at Prizzo Skeezy. I had no idea there were couples resorts where fucking was discouraged. That would be like going to a bar where drinking alcohol was frowned on.
As I was driving to Netparty at Compound on Friday evening, it was pouring rain. Here in Atlanta, the hotties refuse to come out when it is raining, since it might mess up their hair. Unfortunately, Atlanta has been the Seattle of the southeast recently, as it has rained every single damn day.
Despite the rain, this event still drew a decent crowd, with plenty of hotties. I estimate about half the usual Netparty crowd showed up, but since they always attract a quality group of people it was still an excellent event.
I met and chatted with several cool people at this event. I also met some weird dude who did not want his picture taken for some unintelligible reason. When I ask if you want your picture taken and you do not, channel Nancy Reagan and just say no. Do not make stupid excuses up, because I am going to start writing them down and mocking you here on Prizzo Skeezy.
As I wrapped up photographing, I noticed that Compound apparently employs people to do nothing other than open the doors for customers. Whenever I think my job sucks, I will remember that I am not stuck opening the door for pretentious $30,000 millionaires.
PHOTO: Random revelers attending Netparty at Compound in West Midtown, Atlanta, GA. June 25, 2004. Courtesy of d.2263 Photographics. View more Netparty at Compound photos.
First, a big Propeller Skies shout out to The Beaver, who helped me move a bunch of heavy furniture today.
In related news, I ate lunch at Nan this afternoon with recurring Propeller Skies character The Beaver. Instead of writing a long tedious review about the fantastic soup, the subtle well balanced Thai curry sauce, and the stunning presentation, I am only going to say one thing: go eat there. Now. Nan is fucking spectacular. Bring a black American Express, as the prices are also spectacular.
A big thank you goes out to the guy at the door wearing a suit* for letting us stay and seating us at a halfway decent table, despite our blatant flaunting of the dress code**.
* Not sure what his title is, I have never eaten at a restaurant that was so fancy the employees wore suits.
** The Beaver was in a t-shirt and shorts, I was wearing jeans that had not been washed since the Carter administration and had holes in them. In all fairness, the holes were not visible. I was also wearing sneakers.
Almost every afternoon, I head over to Starbucks® for a tasty cup of coffee. The walk gives me a chance to clear my head and purchasing a $5 cup of coffee stimulates the economy and makes me feel like I am doing my part in the War On Terrorism™. Usually, this is one of the more pleasant parts of my workday.
However, today I was stuck in line behind Dumbass no. 1 and Dumbass no. 2. Dumbass no. 1 took twenty minutes to choose a baked good from the collection of not very tasty baked goods that Starbucks® offers. In comparison, Dumbass no. 2 took fifteen minutes to ask thirty-five stupid questions* about a particular kind of coffee and then decided to hold off and purchase some tomorrow. Thanks for wasting my time, cocksuckers.
To remedy the situation, I propose that Starbucks® open a special register, just for dumbasses. Anyone who takes more than three seconds to place an order will be forcibly relocated from the normal people line to the dumbass line.
*There are no stupid questions, only stupid people.
…move it along, you looky-loos. Since I have nothing to say this week, I recommend that all five Propeller Skies readers visit Rob over at CLUBLIFE, whose witty writing makes for hilarious tales of life as a bouncer. Also, stop by parannoying, because Patrick is seriously funny.
Saturday I stopped in at the 3rd Annual Bootie Ball. Prior to arriving, I was unclear as to what the fuck, exactly, a Bootie Ball is. Fortuitously, it turned out to be similar to a large frat party, except the attendees were slightly more mature than the average frat boy. And there was a roasted pig.
Soon after arriving, I ran into John and Jason, who were hanging out with Super Quiet Guy (SQG) and Really Talkative Woman (RTW). Since this was an event that featured heavy drinking and I was not paying attention anyway, I have no idea what the real names of SQG and RTW are. I had a few beers and hung out with that crew for a while. Eventually, John and Jason left to meet up with recurring Propeller Skies character Sanket and attend another party.
One thing I noticed as I was wandering around photographing was that the DJ was terrible. First, he was playing CDs. Totally weak. Recently, my friend and recurring Propeller Skies character Big A had a DJ spinning actual vinyl at her birthday party. And a bass player, even. Based on that, one would imagine a DJ with two turntables could be found to spin at a party with over a hundred people. Second, he was playing shitty CDs.
This was a great event, with plenty of beer and some tasty food as well. Despite the whack DJ, the entertainment value per dollar was excellent. I highly recommend the Bootie Ball and I will be getting thoroughly inebriated at next year’s iteration.
PHOTO: Random Bootie Ball organizers attending the Bootie Ball at Dogwood Brewing Company in West Midtown, Atlanta, GA. June 19, 2004. Courtesy of d.2263 Photographics. View more Bootie Ball photos.
Friday evening I dropped by the Snake Nation Annual Summer Shake. I was not particularly enthusiastic about this assignment, because I really wanted to photograph the Hands on Atlanta (HOA) event taking place the same night.
This event was held at the Swan House, which is a fantastic venue and much classier than the places I usually hang out. The aforementioned HOA event was held at an art gallery, which is also much classier than my usual haunts.
Although the Swan House was open and several people wandered through it, the booze and food was outside on the lawn. Unfortunately, it was hotter than hell and more humid than the Everglades. This made the experience more uncomfortable than the Dunwoody Beer Festival. The previously mentioned HOA event was held in an air-conditioned art gallery. But I am not bitter or anything.
Shortly after I arrived, a random person with a digicam struck up a conversation with me. It turns out that she is an actual photographer with stuff hanging in galleries. That was pretty much the highlight of the evening, since there was a distinct lack of young single hotties for me to hit on at the event. I imagine there were plenty of hotties at the previously discussed HOA event, since recurring Propeller Skies character Nate has mentioned on several occasions that HOA is a great place to meet beautiful single women.
After photographing, I grabbed a drink and chilled with Julie, who I met through the Atlanta Jaycees, and her boss. We hung out for a short time. I had another drink and decided I was tired of dripping sweat and headed home.
This was the first Snake Nation event I have attended. The event was well organized and ran smoothly, Allison did an excellent job. This was a good event for couples or a group of friends. However, for singles (meaning me) it was pretty much a waste of a perfectly good Friday night. Since I got ABSOLUTELY NO FUCKING PHONE NUMBERS.
PHOTO: Random revelers at the Snake Nation Summer Shake at the Swan House in Buckhead, Atlanta, GA. June 18, 2004. Courtesy of d.2263 Photographics. View more Snake Nation Summer Shake photos.
It has been nearly a month since I last reviewed a cocktail on this site and summer is rapidly approaching. Therefore, I mixed up a couple of Frisco Slings last night. Unfortunately I did not get any acceptable photographs of them. So, I had to drink a few more tonight.
Based on popular demand (to protect the guilty, we will not mention any names), I decided to modify the Frisco slightly to improve its chances in the Smoove D Search for the Official Cocktail of Summer. I came up with the Frisco Sling, which is a Frisco with club soda added to transform it into a tall drink more appropriate to the season.
The addition of club soda really opened up the flavor of the Crown Royal. In addition, the tartness of the lemon combines with the whiskey to deliver a smooth finish. However, the subtle flavor imparted by the Benedictine gets lost in the club soda.
Although the Frisco Sling is a refreshing drink, it simply does not have the flavor of the Diablo or the Singapore Sling.
PHOTO: Frisco Sling. Courtesy of Green Chicken Associates.