Propeller Skies

About once every six months or so, I find myself wishing for a handheld. I never end up buying one, because spending $200 or more on a glorified calendar is at odds with the Freegan ideals I aspire to. However, last Wednesday I finally joined the twenty-first century and purchased a Tungsten T5. I was on the fence, but palmOne offered a free WiFi card and a fifty dollar mail in rebate.

So far, I am very satisfied with the T5. The inclusion of WiFi elevates the handheld beyond the humble calendar and makes it quite useful. I find it incredibly convenient for quickly checking and responding to email without dragging out the notebook. Another sweet feature that rules is the built-in Bluetooth. I can wirelessly hotsync the T5 with my notebook and also print to my Bluetooth equipped printer from across the room. The T5 also does well with more pedestrian handheld functions. I really like the calendar and contacts software and am very impressed with how well it hotsyncs with Microsoft Outlook.

Based on my initial impression, I recommend the palmOne Tungsten T5.

A few weeks ago, I attended the East Atlanta Beer Festival with recurring Propeller Skies character Lisa. Upon arriving I discovered the organizers raised the price of admission to twenty-five dollars. This is bullshit. For the same amount of money I can stop by Green’s on Ponce, purchase two twelve packs of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale (that would be twenty-four total bottles of beer for the math impaired), and still have enough left over for a slice or two at Fellini’s down the street. Fucking capitalist pigs.

Once inside the festival, a tasty brew from some company based in Greenville, South Carolina*, served by a buxom young hottie took the sting from the high price of admission. In addition, the festival was packed with hotties. While drinking I ran into several people I knew, none of whom are recurring Propeller Skies characters and therefore will not be enumerated here. I also did my best to drink twenty five dollars worth of beer.

After the festival, I hopped on the first MARTA bus going by. Novice MARTA riders often complain about the inscrutability of the bus routes and schedules, but the beauty of the system is almost every bus eventually ends up at a rail station. On the bus, I called The Quiet One and made plans to meet up with her and C-Dogg at Midtown Station and continue drinking. After going past mile after mile of uninspired strip commercial and dilapidated houses I slowly came to the realization I caught one of the few busses that do not terminate at a station.

Eventually, I ended up back in East Atlanta and stopped in The EARL for a burger. My waitress totally wanted me, but I played hard to get and escaped with my purity intact.

Overall, I had a good time despite my initial disappointment at the high price. I recommend this event, unless the price increases again next year.

notes:

* I am unable to remember the name of the brewery, because I was AT A BEER FESTIVAL.

New Jersey State Assemblyman and Baptist fucktard Craig Stanley wants to rename the Devils. This is a ridiculous waste of taxpayer dollars, especially since there is no such thing as the NHL anymore.

A few months ago, an idependent coffee house named Octane opened down the road from me. Due to my lack of a functioning automobile, I was unable to check it right away. I finally got a chance to stop by Octane Saturday morning.

The space is a beautiful warehouse conversion, but lofts are starting to become repetetive on this side of town. A very cool feature is the well done artwork posted on the exposed brick walls.

After taking a few minutes to examine the space and menu, I stepped up to the counter to place my order. Wanting to get in touch with my feminine side, I purchased a white chocolate mocha. The espresso drink was delicious and I will certainly be back to research their other offerings. I highly recommend Octane.

After work today, recurring Propeller Skies character Big A and I made the mistake of heading over to Sweetwater Brewery for happy hour. The first problem was the lack of fucking parking. The second problem was the ass-farming cocksuckers at the gate told us they were at capacity and unable to let anyone else in. At capacity, my motherfucking ass. Right in front of our fucking faces was a gigantic open swath of parking lot, which could easily accomodate another two hundred people. Apparently the retarded tree hugging hippie douchebags at Sweetwater are blind.

This event was total fucking unadulterated bullshit. In case it was unclear from the preceding paragraph, I do not recommend this event. And anyone from Sweetwater who reads this can eat a dick.

A few nights ago, the City of Atlanta managed to botch a water main installation. The resulting flood washed away the foundation supporting a building that houses a business critical to the entire American economy and homeland security - a karate school. So, for the forseeable future half of Peachtree Street is closed, snarling traffic from Midtown to Tennesee. Mitigating this clusterfuck is an ever helpful sign advising, “use alternate route.” What fucking alternate route? No roads in this goddamn city connect, thanks to the infinite wisdom of previous generations of urban planners and cocksucking homeowners who become apoplectic if anyone dares to drive an automobile on the road in front of their precious overpriced shitboxes. Therefore, we here at the Prizzo Skeezy award the coveted Propeller Skies Douchebag Of The Week Award to the incompetent wankers at the City of Atlanta.

Saturday, my friend James and I ventured OTP into a wasteland of rednecks, trailers, and confederate flags to attend Drift Atlanta. Along the way, we stopped at the McDonalds by I-85 and SR 53 for a light snack. This was my first McDonalds experience since watching Supersize Me and I was extremely disappointed. I was hoping that I would be able to shoot flaming turds thirty feet out of my ass after consuming a Royale With Cheese and some fries, but no such luck.

We arrived early enough to catch the practice rounds. I was excited to see that Alex Pfieffer, one of my favorite drivers from last year, was there driving a shiny new Honda S2000. Unfortunately, Pfieffer was having car trouble and did not provide an encore of last year’s exciting battle with Samuel Hubinette. Calvin Wan’s Infiniti G35 looked pretty sweet and he later had some awesome runs during qualifying rounds. The highlight of the practice rounds was Bubba Drift, an automatic El Camino, which was pretty fucking funny. Much to my suprise it was not a joke, but a serious contender. However, Bubba did not make it into the finals.

Finally, after standing in the sun for eternity the practice and qualifying rounds wrapped up and the tandem battles began. The first several heats were underwhelming, but the action picked up when Taka Aono, in a severely underpowered AE86 Corolla, went up against Hubinette in the ridiculously overpowered Dodge Viper. [Full disclosure: Smoove has a special hatred for Diamler-Chrysler products after a bad and expensive experience with one of their particularly shitty Jeep vehicles - Ed.] On the first run down the track, Aono simply did not have the horsepower to keep up with Hubinette, but turned in a solid run. However, the second time down the track, Aono drove wickedly and, in a thrilling battle, was able to prevent Hubinette from drifting past him. As it was close, the judges took their time scoring while the crowd chanted, “one more time.” Aono and Hubinette ran again and another excellent battle brought the same results and the spectators chanted, “Taka. Taka.” After the fourth round, it was still extremely close. The spectators again chanted, “one more round,” and waited for the cars to cool off. While waiting, a section of the crowd began chanting “Fuck. The. Viper.” I agree with them, that was some bullshit, as the V-10 Mopar against the inline four powered AE86 was patently unfair. Although Aono drove his ass off and put in a stunning performace, his car was on the verge of overheating and the judges declared a forfeit.

Later, Rhys Millen in the Pontiac GTO went up against Hubinette in the Viper. This was also an exciting battle, one that Millen unfortunately lost. However, the cars were at least reasonably matched in terms of power and Hubinette had to drive instead of relying on the V-10 to win. Millen went on to take third place by beating out Calvin Wan in an anticlimactic tandem battle.

Of course Hubinette went on to win first place. I will go out on a limb here and predict that he repeats as the series champion this year. The Viper is just has too much of a horsepower advantage over the other cars being campaigned.

I had a great time and I highly recommend attending any Formula D drift events. Seth from Crazy Lawsuit Game was in attendance, but we were unable to meet up. I read his post about Drift Atlanta and emailed him after he already left for the ATL.

A few weeks ago, I attended Netparty at Shout. This event was held at a great new venue and consequently packed with loads of hotties. As per usual, people were very friendly and I had a great time.