Bar Chatter

Bar Chatter #12
Sometimes it ain't enough to make post, but it still needs to go out...it's just bar chatter.

Kiss my ass. Seriously. Why am I not able to get a movie deal?

Mega Piranha?

Are you kidding me?

I frequent a news aggregation site called fark.com, and one of amusing ways they refer to the industry's tendency for remakes, sequels, and cookie cutter films as "Hollywood is out of ideas". Here is the defining moment of that phrase-ology.

Mega Piranha. On Syfy.

It's a real movie! This is original programming! Somewhere, a Vice President of something at that network read the premise or treatment and thought "Yeah, this is a good idea." An ancient huge ancestor of a fish indigenous to the Amazon river is still alive - - - and attacks Miami? Really? I mean, from a basic biology standpoint of fresh water fish in salt water, I mean, really? This got a green light?

Does anybody know where I can submit my treatment? I think I'm going to send it in crayon.

Really? I mean...really?

And that was the motivation...

Ramblings Post #92
Life is petty and cruel. In that order, and if I see fate I'm gonna kick her ass. Do I perhaps sound a little miffed? A wee bit perturbed? Less than jovial and brimming full of loving goodness? To quote a mentally stunted former Vice Presidential candidate: You betcha! And there is so little to go on. This is the dawning of a new age. Again.

After I got Sporty started on her project for the next few days, I figured it would be me, some law books and all the Kool-aid I could drink for the weekend. My Friday nights are usually reading, my Saturdays are the "extension" sessions, updating and more reading, and Sunday is yet more reading, what I call "pre-note taking", and any reading I might have trouble getting through.
Nice, quiet, industrious, boring. (I'm adding problem solving next week to prep for finals)

But Saturday the Black Law Student Association wants to go bowling. I'm not really up for bowling - I haven't been in ...well, I'm not really sure but I know it's not remotely recent... and so I chill at the crib, talking with Spanky who is manufacturing drama with her new man friend, and trying to figure out which subject I'm going to fall asleep reading tonight.
But then I get a call to come on out, meet your fellow law students, and so I put on some clothes and head out. It's a small group, but then there aren't THAT many black law students anyway so I wasn't a huge crowd. We do couples bowling so that everybody gets a few rolls ( of note, I bowled two strikes and a spare) and it's actually pretty fun. There is laughing, cheering , some playful ribbing and the like and after we finish up, most of us don't want to head home. They want to go dance.

So we end up at Aja.

I don't get out much any more, so the host of activities I normally would have been privy to is non-existent, and the only reason I even know about this function is that Spanky had talked about it earlier on the phone. So we end up at this restaurant turned club for one night, and for the first time in ages, I actually have to PAY to get into somewhere. Shock. My RP even checked me on it the next day. This was monumental in its own way.

Aja. On and poppin'

The night turns into old home week, folks I haven't seen in three or four or ten years fall out of the woodwork and I try to keep it moving all night. I float back to my little group a time or two, and that's when it happens.

I thought I was doing okay. My belt was at the last notch before I had to move down a size. Pants are a little loose. When I go downstairs while at work, my reflection in the tinted glass doors doesn't look especially bad. Years from now however, when I'll appear on the cover of Men's Health or some new fitness magazine and they'll ask what motivates you to get out do those things I do to get into shape. And I'll give them my soon to be trademarked wry grin and tell them : At a law school outing someone took a picture of me.

I would say they got my bad side, but that implies I have good one. Next to the much fitter, much younger male archetype (who happens to be a classmate), I looked like somebody's fat uncle. Somebody's fat drunk uncle and I WASN'T EVEN DRINKING!!! I'm tempted to print the picture out and put it in my wallet so that I'll start getting my ass up in the morning to work out.

My next post might be from Piedmont park.

And no, I'm not gonna link to the photo....

Barkeep! A double shot of Slimfast and wheatgerm!

Micheal Steele might be....The Mole!

This is a political post.

Secret agent Steele?

When I was in undergrad, on Friday's a few guys and I would go to the best Happy Hour in Tallahassee. When I say best, I mean the freaking best. This was a Happy Hour buffet with mashed potatoes and prime rib, spaghetti, baked chicken and even fresh tacos. With full sized plates and literally no crowd, you could eat heartily for the price of single drink once a week. Well, not really. What was the true price of this meal? Once a week I had to go to a Western themed redneck bar to get it. And each week I'd get ID'd, then order my one drink and chow down. It took a few trips, but I figured out that even there, they were a little afraid of asking the black people to leave without causing an bigger issue than the one they already had.

Which is where the Republican party is right now with Micheal Steele.

How do you fire the one prominent black Republican in America without looking like...well, without looking like what people think you are.

And damn if the brother isn't milking the party for everything under the sun. I mean he's going BIG. He's been talking about buying a private jet with RNC funds, he travels by limo and stays at the best hotels. On a midwinter trip to Hawaii, probably checking on Obama's birth certificate, Mr. Steele ran up charges of almost $44,000....not including the plane ride. We won't even discuss the few stacks "somebody" dropped at the bondage club in LA that the RNC approved of...while he just HAPPENED to be in town. The term he might want to learn, since he likes trying to infuse urban slang into his speeches is "big ballin' baby! ". And he's done it all while having the people who hired him as the Anti-Obama sit quietly and fume about his antics. Well, maybe not quietly, but fume nonetheless.

He looks like a baller, doesn't he?

It sounds insane I know, but maybe Micheal Steele is a mole, sent by M.A.D.E.U.P. (Mythical American Democratic E-something Usurping People's-Rights) to both embarrass the Republicans with his antics and bankrupt them with his profligate spending. I mean think about it, where is Micheal Steele's birth certificate? Has he ever eaten a bean pie? Where is his people from? That the RNC donors are bleeding cash due the economy and the party's coffers are starting to get a little low would make people consider cutting back just a bit, maybe. I know they're going get an uptick from people still made at Obamacare, but still, Steele is making it "rain" more than a little bit. So maybe he is mole.

But what do I know. His spending might be the Republican Stimulus plan. Maybe.

By the that much...

This is a political post.

Well damn.

219 - 212.

It's like the score to one of those old time NBA Allstar games where nobody played defense and just came in the arena and shot the ball with reckless abandon. And so, as it turns out, after some all night hardball politicking....the Obama presidency gets new life.

How he probably looked afterwards...

And all it took was to raise the anger and vitriol of the latent racist and homophobes that populate the Republican party. When people feel comfortable using the N-word to congressmen, we have a much, much deeper issue. At least this week they didn't raise the subtle specter of the something being ramming down anyone's throat, I mean, what with a black president and all and the imagery I'm sure they were trying to conjure up. Although I'm not too certain they didn't actually raise the interest of a few of their own closeted members.

And they did it without a single Republican vote. Which just bodes ill for way too many reasons. I realize the people on the other side of the aisle are assholes, but if that wasn't a metaphorical finger of biblical proportions I don't know what was.

What I really find hard to believe is that I live in a country where people feel its okay to let people die in the streets, which is what the opponents of Healthcare reform were really arguing for. I've heard the discussions of some of those opposed to Healthcare, that the individual should be responsible enough to carry insurance on their own and etc, and the selling them insurance after the auto accident metaphor. And they would have merit if the average American could buy insurance like buying a hamburger, or if the going rate was $50 or so a month. But for the average working American whose job doesn't supply health insurance, the choice is usually between eating now and paying for health coverage for the future. I've heard of premiums on family packages as high as $800 a month. Eating or Insurance. Is that really the American dream?

The really sad part is, those protesters didn't realize that they already live in the world they cry they don't want to live in, that they're already paying for the insured through higher premiums based upon higher fees charged by hospitals to treat the uninsured by law that they cannot turn away. The current legislation makes everyone chip in, which is just...I dunno, crazy talk. Almost comical screams for fiscal responsibility, I mean, as long as it isn't for something I'd like to spend the money on, like defense or that plant that will make jobs in my district. That insurance companies were planning to drop unprofitable customers to raise the bottom line - now that is REAL death panel - should have been unsettling, but it wasn't for the ones blinded by unfounded rage.

It's strange, this plan just might even help some of them.

And if helping the person who just spit in your eye - literally - isn't American, I don't know what is.

Little did he know...

Ramblings Post #91
Sometimes it's at it's darkest, right before it goes completely black. Or so said some cartoon character, maybe Bugs Bunny, when trying to characterize something...and at the time it seemed so pithy, after all I might have just learned "sayings" like the year or two before. Metaphors must have come like a few years even after that. Lives turn on phrases...you'd be surprised.

So Saturday I spend knee deep in studying. The midterm will be a hotly debated subject, in that after discussing something with my classmates after the test (something the school advises us not to do) I think I discovered a difference in the printings of the some of the texts we are allowed to use, that might make a difference in how one of the midterm's questions were answered. I gotta check a few things, but we'll see.

So Saturday. I got the laundry in the machine, I finished typing out the power point presentation for class, I've read through the supplement for one class, about to tackle the actual cases when my phone goes off. It's Sporty out of the blue.

We chit chat, as we are wont to do, then she asks what I'm doing for dinner. I had just cleaned out the fridge of food I was never gonna eat that morning,but I really hadn't thought about it when she suggests we go to eat. Which is odd. Because she's supposed to be in Texas. And I'm not a cartographer, but I'm figuring more like breakfast, but only if I leave in the next hour. I do ninety through Alabama and Mississippi.

But no, she's IN Atlanta.

So around nine or so we meet up at Central City Tavern over off Howell Mill. It's a throwback to the old 80's style frat boy bar. Booths, tables, food and beer. No theme other than "let's eat" and about 20 big screens so you can eat and not crane your neck or have to turn your head to watch the game. The menu is broad, salads and finger foods up to actual non-hamburger entrees, so I figured me the small golden one could grab a little eats and chat. I just realized if their wings are worth damn, they might have a new customer forever.

She comes in looking...well, like Sporty. Which is like gorgeous. Well, it's like a chick just over five feet tall with short hair and the cutest smile.

And it's amazing. It's almost like we just went out last week. We fall back into the same routine, trying to figure out what the other is going to order, a quick bracket update, the usual usual. There were no revelations, no earth shattering turns of events...just me and her chilling. I'll be honest, I was a little nervous waiting for her to arrive, I thought we both might be different people, but even if that's the case (and I'm fairly certain it is) we both apparently adapted kind of nicely.

After the games, the only ones of the tournament I've watched so far, we parted company the way we have the last few times I've seen her: like neither of us want to let the moment go.

Barkeep. I'll take a glass of that Booker's now.

Bar Chatter

Bar Chatter #11
Sometimes it just ain't enough to make a post, but it's still needs to go out....it's just bar chatter.

hands need to be on handlebars!

I think I need school. I like the order and the purpose of it. I like it how it defines my day. I need a little order, a reason for doing what I'm doing beyond myself. This maybe what they mean when they say "I'm getting too old for shit." I'm starting to think I'm getting too old.

Left to my own devices, with no obligation past my bills...I'm a little surprised I've lived this long. I can get out there. Without a mental barrier, I have a tendency to go too far.

For Spring Break I studied. Every night I read something...the Rules, a supplemental book, online tutorial, and yet I still felt I had way too much free time. Too much time to do something I had no business doing.

Is there a situation where dependency is good?

Bar Chatter

Bar Chatter #10
Sometimes it just ain't enough to make a post, but it's still needs to go out....it's just bar chatter.

Midterm. I haven't heard that word in twenty years. And I'm a little scared of what this may portend. I've been reading all during "Spring Break", going over the rules like a actual student...not looking at the material for the other classes...and just when I think I got it, our professor, who graciously emails out any question she receives so we all can benefit, sends out a answer to a question that makes me think I've wasted a whole week.

I've got my notes, a few study focus concepts from classmates, I'm taking the tests in the other supplemental book I bought, I'm reading back through her model answers. This week I'm writing up answers to hypos and going back over the rules...again.

Am I ready for this?

What's really going on?

Maybe it's that I'm stressing out over this midterm. Maybe its because my job is finally catching up to me. Maybe its because my diet and exercise program didn't just slow down or stop, but appears to be going in reverse. Maybe its the stress over things beyond my control...

But for the past few days, at right around 8pm I get indigestion. Or heartburn. And since a burp usually cures this feeling and I'm assuming a burp isn't the fix for a heart attack, it's probably not a heart attack. I think.

Somebody take note of that.

And then, as I'm sitting here writing this, about to go into a diatribe about life and other things, a loud crash happens right outside my window and swear a limb must have fallen off a tree and hit the house. Only on that side of the house, I had all the limbs cut down (I got a lotta trees). So what's really going on? So I slip on shoes and there, just brushing the driveway...one of my neighbors TREES has fallen into my yard. This is almost too much.

I think about it and right this second I'm surprised the power is still on, because the line ran right through that spot. And I'm still on the internet, so the other line is still up too. So tomorrow, before I go to work, I got to dispose of a tree. Or at least get started on disposing of one.

My other problems we'll get back to later.

Barkeep...something to make the cold morning, not so cold.

A Not Really Quick Restautrant Review - Thumbs Up Diner

It was Saturday morning, first day of spring break and I was prepared to spend it vegging the hell out. Okay, I was going to figure out the completely undocumented off-season of Madden 2010 franchise mode at some point in the afternoon, but mostly it was going to be spent just letting my soul breathe. Then my phone buzzed.

Okay, for those who don't know, I've only ever heard my phone ring once in two years. The day I got it turned on, somebody who I'm not gonna name put her number in it and put it on vibrate, where it's been ever since. So my phone doesn't ring, it buzzes, which accounts for a number of missed calls if the phone isn't on my person or a hard surface.

It was Spur - old friend, new nickname. I've known Spur a decade or so now, from the original game nights out East of Atlanta. She is one of the few people who recognizes the other facets of my personality - the arty side, the wine drinker side, the eclectic side. She was the one was gonna take me to the bullfights that time. Anyway, much like Schmoopy...who I haven't spoken to in second 'cause she's so busy...Spur is on the once and while hangout just to keep in touch. We used to hang out so much and look so comfortable together, we've often been accused of being married.

But enough asides, she wants to do brunch on what turns out to be the first warm day in Atlanta at the venerable Thumbs Up Diner on Edgewood. I'm with it, so we agree to meet after her gym session at 11:30am.

For the uninitiated, what you see here is a horrible mistake. Saturdays in Atlanta in the Spring and Summer are simply made for brunch, that crucial weekend meal that you get when you oversleep because you can and still want breakfast food. And since people oversleep, then wander out around 10am looking for sustenance, anytime after 10:30 until say 1 in the afternoon you can give it up for going someplace without a twenty to thirty minute wait. And if the place is good, even longer. And for the record, Thumbs Up Diner is supposed to be good.

We find a park not too far away, and put our names on the list for a twenty minute wait, then because the space is small, take up our post outside with the other waiting patrons. We'd opted to sit at the counter if seats became available in the interest of time, and because Spur heard it was faster while trying to get our name on the list. Thumbs Up on Edgewood is a part of town that if five years will really be something, but right now is still finding its way. But they have some benches out front, and little spot on the side next to the hard to get into parking lot...and we didn't stay long because they called our name in like less than five minutes.

In the interest of full disclosure, I will note that as we were finishing up our meal sometime later, they called our party again. So in essence we stole somebody's seats. So don't get the impression saying you'll sit at the counter makes it go whoosh!

We sat at the counter - seats so close together I called it family style. I mean brushing up on folks. The space itself is industrial chic, with the prerequisite leather booths and curvy bar, with lots of exposed brick. It has that city diner feel it's supposed to have. The menu on the other hand is huge. Not Cheesecake Factory huge, but for a diner it's huge. Spur got the Catfish and grits and I opted for the Chicken and Belgian Waffles.

This is getting pretty long, but let say this...the food was outstanding! The waffle was thick, the hash browns were the sheaf not the strings, the chicken tenders looked cooked and not just "goldened", and the portions were huge.We left food on the table. Er...counter.

As we left, full and burping...and I say this warn those who follow, keep you group to four and under. I saw a group of eight walk up as Spur's name got called. We sat down, ordered, chatted, ate, chatted, and rolled out...and they were still there waiting. Big groups take a long time to seat. That said, a group with kids locked up two booths for must have been an hour and half in the back.

Bottom Line: I'm going back. But this time before 10am.

And here we are...

Ramblings Post #89
I've noticed these are becoming more infrequent. Work is killing me - I know I should be happy I have a job, but existing as the working wounded is just not the lick - and school is coming to a tipping point. Let's hope I tip out on the right side. Life is funny, despite our best plans we don't really know where we are going to end up. All we can do is pick a direction and ride.

We're just passed the halfway point in this semester, and if I wasn't already on it, time is running out. For the first time one of my law professors has deigned to give a "midterm" and so, it's like a brain reset just when I was getting into the swing of the new methodology. What I'm really finding difficult is following the stream of thinking that calls not for memory but "figuration". My last writing exercise I interpreted the question wrong. Although my base reasons were on point, the missing of the underlying situation more than threw off my answers. Something I believe I've done in the past....good analysis of a bad premise. I got two months to work on that.

This weekend was an off and on affair of mental readiness. I veered between actual study, reading, sleeping and lying in bed wondering why I wasn't studying. I had told myself that if I got up and actually typed up the stuff for Thursday's class - well in advance - I would reward myself with an hour of PlayStation. And then, have got up and actually done the typing, I wasn't in the mood to play. Huh? I did the reading for Tuesday's class, talked the folks for hot second and then made some Jambalaya. I've just been so blah lately.

For a guy with nothing going on, I got too many things in flux.

Two weekends ago with Spanky may have something to with it. Out and about for the first time in ...weeks? a month? ... I was inundated with ...people. My current schedule has reduced my social circle to my co-workers, my classmates, and the local restaurant staffs where I stop for takeout because I don't want to cook. I know its bad because I'm starting to see the appeal of the man-looking gay chick in shipping. The one with the really bad attitude. Brother needs to get out.

Many years ago, when I got to college I made it a special point to be "involved" with the goings on around campus. I drifted from social group to social group in a regular rotation so I wouldn't "miss" anything, a futile attempt to make up for my younger years where I always felt left out. And now stretched so thin...work at a fairly demanding job, a direction of study that is fairly rigorous, and then well, that's kinda it. The depression that comes with lonely appears to making a comeback.

I need to knock some sense back into me.

I have seen the enemy, and he is us.

Barkeep...this ain't even funny no mo'.