Keep your clothes on. I got all I can take.

This right here is giving me a bad case of the sads.

It's my free Priority Access ticket I somehow won from Samsung Summer Krush Concert Series. Which I can not attend. No amount of finagling in the week or so that I was given to do the finagling was going to make it happen. 

I can't give them to other people to use. The tickets came with strict instructions they can only be used by a guest and myself. Though if I did share, I'd probably explode with jealousy right around 8 pm tonight. Smoldering pieces of me would be splattered on the walls and the rug. 

Probably best that I can't gift them. No one cleans around here butcept me. 

I've been defeated by time, space and babysitters with other plans. I'm not, unfortunately, a breathing  time machine.

Foiling the foiler, and other stories of The ATL

Last weekend, John and I headed down to the ATL for a surprise 40th birthday party for our friend, Man. I so love surprising people. Especially when they are way hard to surprise like Man is. He looked a little scared when eight of his friends walked in to the bar singing "Happy Birthday", and Shelley B. was elated, because she foiled the foiler.

Mission accomplished.

Following said surprise, we drank at Whiskey Blue. Then we took a three block cab ride to MF Buckhead. It was MF good. We walked home to the W Buckhead instead of taking a cab. Because we are MF smart like that.

Whiskey Blue induced permagrin.

After lunch at The Vortex in Little Five Points the next day, we regrouped and hopped onto MARTA to head down to the Braves game. I was impressed, because the Buckhead station didn't smell like pee at all. I was disappointed not to see any rats, though. There were only empty Red Bull cans and Aquafina bottles down in the tracks. I prefer my public transit with a little less upwardly mobile and little more  live vermin. It makes the whole experience seem a little more authentic.

Entrance to The Vortex. Be careful. They bite.

Next blog post: How I got to be best friends with Fred Schneider. For realsies.