Because everyone else is posting New Year’s resolutions, I am too. The difference is, I intend to keep mine. I realize the following is an ambitious list, but I think I can do it.
On the train ride home from work yesterday, I encountered yet another type of annoying transit rider. This one was loudly singing along to a hopelessly syrupy R&B ballad. Unfortunately, her voice was so terrible that in comparison William Hung sounds like Hope Sandoval.
A key problem with the internet is anyone can publish on it. Although there are a few worthwhile sites, the vast majority of web pages appear to be published by blind people with absolutely no grasp of the English* language. For example, the person that created this butt-ass ugly page is clearly colorblind.
For the record, I was NOT searching for anime porn when I came across the aforementioned page.
* Where applicable.
While I was Home for the Holidays™ I took a few photographs. I will be posting pictures from my tour of the Jamestown ruins at underground over the next few weeks. A big shout out to J. for lending me the keys to underground and to S. Cat for chauffeuring me while I was there.
A big Propeller Skies shoutout to Jason at Made in Taiwan for sending me an old-fashioned and super cool Christmas card from, you guessed it, Taiwan. Thanks.
The Unabathers are a type of smelly person found on MARTA. These are people that never take showers and a trail of noxious body odor follows them everywhere. In contrast to The Farters, The Unabathers are easy to avoid, because of their unkempt appearance.
Thanks to all the dumb motherfucking meth addled hicks in the red states Jesusland, I have recently been spending some quality time riding public transportation. Since scraping up the money to fix my hooptie is pretty much an impossibility in this goddamn fucking Bush economy.
While riding public transit, I have come across various types of smelly people. The Farters are one particularly despicable type of smelly people. The Farters are nefarious, because they operate in stealth mode and are extremely difficult to distinguish from normal riders until they discharge a vile smelling silent but deadly (SBD) fart. As a rule, they also have impeccable timing, waiting until the rail car is packed to launch a devastating barrage of SBDs.
Saturday night, I ventured outside the perimeter (OTP) to attend a holiday party put on by my friend Angela. At the beginning of my journey I dropped into Mac’s, the best transit oriented liquor store in Atlanta, and picked up a fifth of Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey. I figured I would be needing it to endure the myriad horrors of a trip OTP.
The highlight of the evening occurred when Charlie and I, fueled by Sweetwater 420 and Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whisky, respectively, decided to throw tangerines at cars passing by on a certain state route. Fortunately for the people in the cars, we were too far away drunk to hit anything.
Despite being OTP, the party was decent. As a function of being OTP, it was packed with MILFs. However, I did not bother getting any numbers, since they all lived in bungfuck Alpharetta. Unexpectedly, enough drama to provide an entire season worth of material for a WB series had gone down by the end of the night.
A recent trend in Atlanta is the adaptive reuse of filling stations as restaurants, often times with visually stunning results. Iris in East Atlanta is one of the earliest and most successful examples. [Well, not that successful, as Iris went under after Smoove wrote this - Ed.]
Last night I went to dinner at Rolling Bones, which is a barbecue joint in a renovated gas station. Having spent a few years in Texas, I developed a healthy suspicion of barbecue places with [1] paved parking lots, [2] tile floors, and [3] an aura of cleanliness. Rolling Bones featured a paved parking lot and a tile floor. In addition, besides being clean, the restaurant was well designed and beautifully appointed. However, word on the street was good, so we ordered and sat down to eat.
For once, word on the street was correct. Rolling Bones makes some damn fine barbecue chicken and ribs. Additionally, they make the best damn freedom fries in the history of freedom fries. They were piping hot and perfectly crispy. Unfortunately, Rolling Bones did not offer macaroni and cheese as a side. Hopefully, they will correct this oversight in the future.
Pricing is reasonable and the quantities of food are sufficiently massive and tasty. I highly recommend this restaurant.
Recently, Notre Dame has come under fire for firing their head football coach. A bunch of retarded morons have been quick to scream racism, based on the fact that he was one of the few Notre Dame coaches to be canned before the expiration of his contract.
Newsflash: we are not living in 1950 anymore and the Notre Dame program is not what it once was. Notre Dame no longer has the luxury of letting mediocre coaches finish out their contract if they want to remain an elite football school. Had the school allowed Willingham to finish out his contract, they would most certainly be up the proverbial creek in a leaky boat without a paddle because of his poor recruiting. It may already be too late, as the most of the good candidates have already been snapped up. Steve Spurrier is coaching South Carolina, Urban Meyer chose sunny Florida over sub-zero South Bend, and Bobby Petrino and Jeff Tedford are staying at Louisville and Cal, respectively.
I hate to break this to all the conspiracy theorists out there, but Notre Dame did what they had to do. Plain and simple, Tyrone Willingham sucked as a coach. His teams did not implode in November on a regular basis because he was black; they collapsed because he was outcoached.
Simply compiling a winning record is not good enough for an elite program. Willingham is not the only coach with a winning record who has been fired recently. Last year, Nebraska fired Frank Solich after he went 9 and 3. Florida fired Ron Zook in the middle of the season after an embarrassing loss to the worst team in the SEC Mississippi State. As Vince Lombardi once said, “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.”