Propeller Skies

Alert Propeller Skies readers will remember that I attended MARTA Pub Crawl VI way back in May. Since it was a decent time, I decided to check out MARTA Pub Crawl VIII on Saturday afternoon. In contrast to the previous pub crawl that started in Underground, where large caliber firearms are required for survival, this one started at Houlihan’s in the airport, where weapons of any kind are illegal.

On the train ride to the airport, I figured it would be prudent to invent a cover story in case I was stopped by the TSA for looking suspicious. I figured the truth would not do, since it is highly unlikely that anyone would show up at the airport for the sole purpose of drinking. I imagine the conversation with the TSA would go something like this, “Excuse me sir, why are you wandering around looking suspicious?”

“I’m here to go on the MARTA Pub Crawl and get bombed.”

“Step over here and put your hands against the wall.”

“Let me clarify that officer, I am here to get wasted and ride the train, not to bomb the airport and ride the train.”

“Take him to Gauntanamo Bay and lock him up with all the other terrorists.”

Obviously, getting sent to Guantanamo Bay and being tortured would suck a big sloth ball, so I came up with the plan of scanning the arrivals, picking a city, and claiming I was at the airport to meet a friend coming in. As it turns out, all this plotting was for naught, because like all government workers, the TSA agents were far too busy standing around doing nothing to bother me. I met up with the other pub crawlers at Houlihan’s without incident.

College Park was the second stop on the pub crawl. The first commenter to correctly name the college that was in College Park will win… Absolutely nothing! We visited the bar next to the Feed Store. I have no idea what the name of this bar was, as they could not be bothered to supply any matchbooks. Despite the oversight with regard to matchbooks, this was a very nice bar done in the ubiquitous loft theme. I had a Flying Dog Pale Ale at this stop, which was pretty good. Not quite as zesty as Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, but a worthy contender.

East Point was the next stop. I am unclear as to what, exactly, East Point is east of. However, it is directly south of West End. We dropped in on the East Point Corner Tavern (EPCT), which totally rocks because they have three dollar bottles of Rolling Rock. To celebrate this good fortune, I had about five. Just as the pub crawl was about to leave the EPCT, recurring Propeller Skies character Michael and Andrea met up with us. We opted to stay and have a few drinks, with the intention of catching up to the rest of the pub crawlers later.

Eventually, we wandered down the street to Oz pizza to grab a few slices. At first, I was concerned that some burley convict would anally rape me. Fortunately, the place was named after the movie and not the television show. They serve some mighty tasty slices that are almost as good as Sal’s in Buffalo.

After eating, we tried to catch up with the rest of the pub crawl in Midtown at Stool Pigeons. I have no idea why the fuck anyone would name any damn thing after rats with wings. Despite the goofy name, it is a rather nice place to hang out. We missed the pub crawl crew and decided to just chill there. After a few drinks, we hit Midtown Station and headed home.

This event was a good time and clued me in to some swell places on the south side. Prior to this adventure, I assumed the south side was nothing but a wasteland of chains like TGIFridays and Houlihan’s. Discovering some new bars convenient to MARTA was excellent, because transit oriented drinking is becoming a favored pastime of mine, since I can drink as much as I want and not worry about getting hassled by the pigs. As I was crossing the Downtown Connector on my way home, I noticed the DUI task force busted some poor bastard.

I rarely post about politics, because government is inherently corrupt and wenging about it on the internet to an audience of five will not change the situation. However, the following post caught my attention: Save Gonzo! The unashamed bullying of Gonzo by the City of Roseville is beyond ridiculous. For their efforts promoting fascism, the mayor and all council members of The City of Roseville have been given the prestigious Propeller Skies Douchebag of the Month Award for blatantly trampling the First Amendment rights of Gonzo.

Apparently, the retards have taken over at Nikon. They just announced the D2hs, which is essentially the same as the obsolete D2h, except it costs twice as much. Way to go, geniuses.

Enjoy this tutorial on selling girl scout cookies properly. This super fun time download is presented by recurring Propeller Skies character Lisa.

During the early 1800s in New Orleans, Antoine Peychaud developed the original recipe for the Sazerac. Although first produced with its namesake brandy, over the years the recipe evolved* to include rye whiskey and later bourbon as the primary spirit. This is a waste of perfectly good bourbon that would be better consumed over ice or in the form of a Manhattan, so we use Crown Royal in our Sazeracs here at the Prizzo Skeezy.

Friday evening, after about four Sazeracs, I headed over to the Hair of the Dog event at the Leopard Lounge. Soon after arriving, I ran into recurring Propeller Skies character Trey and chilled at the bar with him for a while. While I was at the bar, I ordered a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale (SNPA) from the. Hottest. Bartender. Ever. Just to be clear, she was smokin’ hot. I think her name was Natalie, or maybe it was Elena. Or it could have been Magdalena. Whatever, the important point here is that she is incredibly hot. However, her stunning hotness did not make the beer taste any better than usual.

After hanging with Trey and drooling over Natalie, Elena, or maybe Magdalena for a while, I headed outside and chatted with Jane, Eric, and a few other people I knew. After ordering a few more SNPAs from the hottest bartender ever, I was out of loot and starting to get bored. So, I decided to head home.

On my way out, I ran into Jacqui, who was just arriving. She bought me a beer, so I changed my mind and stayed. We hung out and talked for a while. I wandered off to use the facilities.

On my way back, I somehow got stuck talking to a teacher. Teachers are the worst, because all they do is go on and on about their flippin’ jobs. Their favorite topics are [1] I work so hard and [2] I don’t get paid dick. Look, the last time I checked Georgia is a right to work state, so quit fucking whining and get a job that pays better and requires less work. After what seemed like eternity, the teacher went looking for her friend and I took the opportunity to ditch her.

As The Quiet One knows, a night of drinking is incomplete until a sign is stolen. On my way home, I noticed that the bourgeois art gallery across the street was having an event. I also noticed that their patrons are apparently retarded, because they posted an auxiliary sign directly across the street from the gallery. In keeping with tradition, I jacked the sign. Approximately three seconds after I liberated the sign, some tree-hugging hippie that worked for the gallery yelled, “excuse me.” I kept walking. He then yelled, “excuse me, that is our sign.” I took off running. Punk ass hippie never even had a chance of catching up.

notes:

* Except in Cobb County, where the recipe experienced gradual changes over time.

Last night, I met a friend and former coworker at Mid City Cuisine for drinks. It was my first time there and upon entering it immediately reminded me of Goldfish, Twist, and other upscale eateries commonly found in Atlanta shopping malls.

I took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of a Pinotage that turned out to be acceptable. I then turned my attention to the scenery, which was also acceptable and not spectacular like other Midtown venues, such as Apres Diem. Soon my friend arrived and we split a bottle of Zinfandel that was much better than my first glass of wine. We chilled for a while at the bar and then headed home.

Overall, the experience was pleasant, but not spectacular. This bar came very close to receiving a recommended rating, however other Midtown bars in the same market segment offer better spaces and more spectacular scenery.

In modern America, Los Angeles is the archetypical city of the automobile. However, Los Angeles’ urban form was originally dictated by streetcars, not freeways. The first urban freeway in the United States was actually completed in 1959 in Detroit. Five years prior to completion of the freeway, the first step towards the ultimate implosion of Detroit was unwittingly taken when the Northland Mall, amusingly located in Southfield, opened along the aforementioned freeway.

Roughly fifty years later, after numerous failed attempts at revitalization and the loss of almost one million citizens (for comparison purposes, roughly four Macons), Detroit is unique among American cities in its wholesale abandonment. Other rusted out industrial cities along the Great Lakes, such as Buffalo and Cleveland, simply cannot compare to the sheer grandeur of the ruins of Detroit.

Urban explorers armed with cameras have taken an interest in the ruins and are busy posting the spoils of their adventures on the internet. dETROITfunk is one of the best sites and presents a singular vision of Detroit. The focus is on ruins and abandoned factories, which are often contrasted with renovations of gorgeous old buildings and some truly excellent graffiti. This site is set apart from myriad other urban exploration pages by the informed commentary steeped in architectural history. The included notes place the photographed buildings in the greater historical and geographic context. Enjoy the journey.

notes:

The first two paragraphs contain facts gleaned from the Detroit Historical Museums & Society.

Some dumbass arrived here at the Prizzo Skeezy by typing “how to use Nikon SB-800″ into a search engine. Unfortunately for them, they did not find any information with regard to proper use of the most excellent and highly recommended Nikon SB-800.

Allow me to remedy the situation. We will start with Nikon SB-800 Usage 101: Introduction to Flash Photography With Modern Equipment.

• Step One: Mount speedlight on a suitable Nikon body.
• Step Two: Turn speedlight on.
• Step Three: Put speedlight in TTL mode.
• Step Four: Take a picture.

For more advanced usage, read the fucking manual.

Would someone please perform the Heimlich on Donovan McNabb?

I highly recommend paying a visit to this site, Levitation Daily Movie Freeze Frame. The concept and photography are most excellent. Ignore the story line, as it is contrived and not particularly interesting.