This happened a while ago.

Folks started arriving Monday afternoon for it. Everyone is so amped to work together.

Last night (Actually Tuesday) we nerded out with a classic game of Settlers of Catan.

I’m the gray pieces. We’ve taken to naming the settlements and cities we build. I’ve chosen the adult entertainment industry as my umbrella industry. The little settlements are “Girls Are Fun” – an actual highway stop jack shack in Atlanta.
Oh, by the way, I’ve been to Girls Are R Fun once.
It starts like all stories involving trips to a sketchy Atlanta Tug Club… A friend’s girlfriend saying, “C’mon guys, I dare ya…” So, unafraid to enter skank headquarters (skankquarters), me and my friend walk in. It was my role to say it was his bachelor party and it’s his last night as a single man, blah blah. Simple enough. Before my mouth opens I hear, “This is my friend Rene. He’s getting married tomorrow morning and I want to pay for his last night as a single man.”
Thanks.
It is at this point in the evening where I get totally shy and awkward. You see, they bring out 3 girls that I am allowed to choose from. Choose to do what? Why, to enter a room with me. I probably played eenie meenie miney mo to decide for all I know (I’m terrible at making decisions). The room was creepy at best. Upon entering the first thing I notice is the abundance of baby oils littering the place. When the door closes i see that the back side of the door has cheap newsprint paper with a menu written on it. Each job itemized by price and atop it all in big, bold letters the words “WE TOUCH.”
I think at that point I tried running away.
But running was not an option. I had to choose again…Between the leather bed, the leather couch, or the massage table. The massage table seemed the cleanest so that’s where I hoisted myself up to sit down. The time alone in the room was awkwardly spent talking to this gal with no shirt on while she caressed – no, that’s not the word – rubbed – still not quite right – MANHANDLED and PULLED AT her boobs. We talked about the show I was in and I left. All in all pretty surreal.
Back to Catan…I have named my cities TittyCatz. It’s not a real place; I just think that’s a great name for a strip club.

Festival kicked off last night and officially begins tonight with an improvised film project and cartoon. Yes the same cartoon that was once hailed as “a Christmas miracle.”

Coffee does not calm me down, settle my anxieties, or focus me.

There are few things I hate more than people who have no indoor conversation voices in public places. Coffee shops are a problem in particular. Your conversation about how you should and shouldn’t train a swim team is not interesting. I don’t care about your t-shirts. I don’t care about your theories that there are Dentist people and Dental Assistant people. This is actually a good one. You see, Dental assistant people come in and do all the work. Then the Dentist type of person comes in and says fix this, yes, let’s look at that, no, ok bye. You’re totally right loud lady 6 inches away from me. Everyone fits into this delightful metaphor. I had hoped however that your metaphor would be swimming oriented since that is ALL you are blabbering about.

I’d like to believe that Turbo Kickboxing is just regular kickboxing taught by Turbo from Breakin’.

I watched The Comedians Of Comedy again last night. Zach Galifianakis is still my hero. There’s a moment in it where he talks about losing grip with reality that I totally relate to. I’m not suggesting for a second that I make a living at it or I come close to his absolute comic brilliance, but 2-4 times a week, sometimes more, I get up on a stage and make shit up. I play make believe. In this scene I’m a police chief. Now I’m a dragon-breathing dragon. This character is the non-descript European. Let’s not forget the retarded homosexual lover screenwriters. It’s mental. If I’m lucky, people find my make-em-ups funny. Sometimes they don’t. Which can be awesome too. The last time that happened was a few weeks ago. I walked out on stage with my team and before the show even got off its feet. Before I could even make a verbal impression on anyone. Someone in the back yells “THE GUY IN THE CARDIGAN NEEDS TO DIE!” Oh, that’s me. Wow. That is one heck of an opinion. And he didn’t say it a funny, I’m heckling the comedians cause I’m drunk way. Which would have been equally off-putting to my fragile ego (but at least funny). No, it was more along the lines of a I’ve made my decision, I’m angry, and I do believe your death is what I want by any means necessary. The show kind of went downhill for us from there. Quite possibly one of the worst 90minutes I’ve ever spent on stage. No dragon-bretahing dragon could save me. I want there to be a movie that has dragons in it that instead of breathing fire breathes dragons. But the dragons are half the size of the original dragon. I’d go see that movie.

I’m a nerd. And I’m here tonight to stand up for the rights of other nerds.

Heckling at hardcore shows was a pastime in Gainesville. Hell, it was an artform. Ink and Dagger and DeathThreat were two bands that loved it. At one of their shows we threw a summer beach party. A kiddie pool in the club, beach balls, punk rock indie kids in shorts and hawaiin shirts.
Unfortunately, after I left Gainesville and moved to Atlanta there weren’t as many people into acting like a total jackass. One year, I managed to be in Gainesville on the same night as our old heckle buddies Ink And Dagger and we went to the show dressed as the Alpha Betas from Revenge of the Nerds. The bartender at the club broke every rule and ordinance and allowed me unfettered access to the taps to refill the trophy I was drinking out of all night. I went hoarse yelling NERDS! all night long at every hardcore kid I saw.

IT’S FOUND!
I totally just found my camera that has been M.I.A. since last June.
haircuts and photos here I come.

ADDENDUM : After not using a camera for 8 months, it’s battery is depleted of life juice. After initial panic of not having a charger, I tore into some random boxes and found it. Crisis mildly averted.

2 more days until The Signal premiere. I am pumped.

You should all go see it. It’s totally Atlanta homegrown and is going to kick all sorts of ass.
You see that guy in the red shirt about 1/3 the way through the trailer? That’s my buddy Matt.
Yep, this Matt. From Prom Party 07.

And from the finale of Dawson’s Creek.

And playing a stuffed bear to my stuffed Rodney Dangerfield in this hit comedy improv scene.

Need I say more?

Music rules. Seriously.
I find myself going through these kicks where one band or album gets me in the greatest mood. It’s usually an album I haven’t listened to in a while that just creeps back into the rotation after a bad day or a random Shuffle event. It then quickly becomes all I will listen to for a few days. The Thermals’ album The Body, The Blood, The Machine is currently that band and album, respectively.
It hasn’t left any device within earshot since Wednesday. Crank it up to start the day. Sing along to it in the car. Dance around the house to it in the afternoon. I finally caught them live last year with Stantonia, and it definitely gave Ted Leo a run for his money as best live show ever.

This is from their contribution to Burn To Shine 03:Portland.

Sometimes I go to Subway. I was in a rush today and needed some food, so I figured I’ll run into Subway and grab some goods. Since I was also driving, I would request one of those handy dandy round sammiches. That way i can eat on the go. This is the exchange

ME : Do you still make those round sandwiches?
SUBWAY ARTIST (with awesome “Sassy daytime talkshow audience member accent”): Uh, you mean a wrap?
ME : Oh, no. Y’know those round sandwiches. Like a roll. (Holding hands up, putting forefingers and thumbs together to make a circle)
SUBWAY ARTIST : Wha? When the last time you order that was?
ME : Wow, I guess it’s been a little while.
SUBWAY ARTIST : Then you need stop orderin them.
ME : I’ll just get a 6″ veggie.

On that same trip I watched in horror as the lady ahead of me requested both Mayonnaise AND Ranch dressing be slathered on her sandwich via the condiment caulking gun. When they were through with it, there was a nauseating pile of white tubed goop atop her fixins. BARF.