In contrast to the second Baller of the Week™ contestant, who pimped a ghetto sled, this week’s contestant is balling out of control. I found these dope rims on a late model Mercedes Benz in the parking lot of my ghetto fabulous apartment complex.
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This is the first Baller of the Week™ contestant whose blue book value exceeds the cost of the bling.
Last Thursday evening I braved the Buckhead Shooting Gallery™ to eat at Nava. The parking situation is abysmal. Due to construction in front of the restaurant, cars are dropped off at Chops, which is approximately one mile* from Nava. This is some bullshit. Management should make the motherfucking valet run, we are tipping them after all.
After suffering through a Bataan Death March** to get to Nava, we ordered some appetizers. The table shared White Corn Asiago Nachos and Sonoma Jack Cheese Fritters. Despite the ludicrously bourgeoisie names, the appetizers were off the chain. In particular, the cheese in the fritters was appropriately sharp and provided a nice counterpoint to the breading. Entrees, however, were mediocre. I ordered the Jalapeno Giant Shrimp served over black bean enchiladas with a pineapple scotch bonnet glaze. The dish was appropriately zesty; however it lacked any flavor besides hot.
Alert Propeller Skies readers will remember I ate at Lobster Bar several months ago. Although both restaurants are owned and managed by the Buckhead Life Group, Lobster Bar smokes Nava like it ain’t no thing. I do not recommend Nava. At Nava’s price point, there are several tastier restaurant choices.
* A slight exaggeration. However, the whole point of a valet is to avoid walking and get one’s car back all scratched up.
** Google “Buckhead shooting” if you think I am kidding.
Last Wednesday, I stopped by Six Feet Under to meet recurring Propeller Skies character The Professor. Six Feet Under is conveniently located in the ghetto, across the street from Oakland Cemetary. However, Six Feet Under makes up for the less than stellar location with cheap beer*, and plenty of it, on tap.
Decor at Six Feet under is similar to a neighborhood dive - plenty of neon beer signs and retro beer cans are scattered throughout. In contrast to standard neighborhood dives, Six Feet Under is mopped every now and again. This is a great place to drink without being overly bourgeoisie.
A key feature of Six Feet Under is the roof, which has fantastic views of downtown Atlanta and the aforementioned burial ground. I highly recommend drinking at Six Feet Under. However, eating there is not recommended because the food tastes foul even after consuming several beers.
* The cheap beer in question is Pabst Blue Ribbon.
Shirley Franklin is the winner of the prestigious Propeller Skies Fucktard of the Week™ award for abusing executive power by placing a moratorium on reasonably sized houses in the City of Atlanta. This is a load of pinko commie bullshit and if the moratorium becomes permanent the terrorists have won.
Given the fiscal disaster the city is, the government should be encouraging the boom in high dollar houses. After all, somebody has to pay for the sewer upgrades.
[For further reading, see: Halting McMansions - Ed.]
Several potential readers have arrived at Propeller Skies while searching for free mission statements. Because more stupid and pointless mission statements are exactly what the world needs now, I have put together the following free mission statements:
Last week I stopped at ghetto Burger King on Northside Drive. Approximately three seconds after exiting my car, I was accosted by a belligerent homeless man demanding a hand-out.
Unfortunately, even with Mayor Shirley Franklin’s brilliant ban on panhandling in downtown, Atlanta still needs improvement. Atlanta is only fourth on a list of the 20 meanest cities for homeless. Clearly, the next step is to ban panhandling within the city limits.
Marcus Vick is on a rampage. In trouble with the law and waving guns at seventeen year old kids. In McDonalds, no less. Star athletes get so much handed to them and often get away with so much, it sure is nice to see one go down for a change.
In contrast to the third Baller of the Week™ contestant and the first Baller of the Week™ contestant, which I found in the parking lot of my ghetto fabulous apartment complex, I found this Baller of the Week™ parked on the street in the over hyped and underwhelming Atlantic Station.
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For the record, this was found on a Dodge Magnum. Why anyone would put fancy rims on a station wagon is beyond me.
This makes sense. Dennis Franchione fires Carl Torbush, who was actually a successful head coach at North Carolina and hires Gary Darnell, whose most recent accomplishment was losing 10 games as head coach of Western Michigan. By the way, most of the teams Western Michigan played while Darnell was compiling that stellar record suck harder than an Electrolux.
In a fit of boredom, I went through the Propeller Skies visitor logs the other day. I noticed someone visited the Prizzo Skeezy from the Farmer’s Telephone Cooperative in Jamestown, New York. The awesomeness never ends.