Inside The Perimeter

Citizens of Tucker, Georgia I am sooo sorry.

Last night was the annual Moonlight Hash House Harriers and Harriettes Tacky Light Tour during which we unleased our untrained vocal cords on Tucker. Each year this hash picks a neighborhood and strolls through drinking schnapps and cider. Upon finding a house with tacky Christmas lights we stop, knock on the front door, and then serenade the residents with a Christmas carole or two. Sound nice? You’ve never heard us sing….. This group couldn’t hold a tune if it had a handle attached. The timing was so off you’d swear that the FCC’s Michael Powell had installed a six-second delay between the front and back of the pack. To further screw with our heads, at some houses we sang songs that weren’t even on our song sheets! Last night one house told us to “scram” — jeez everyone’s a critic.

Tuesday’s Toy Of The Day
I should wait to unleash this toy until my official Mid Life Crisis hits next year, but I want Santa to bring this real badly. It’s the 2005 Ford Mustang!!!! Yippeeee!!!!! Pleeeeeeaaaaassssseeee!!! I have been as good a boy as I could be given the shitty year that I have had… I promise not to attempt to pick up twenty-year-old women with it (ok, maybe that’s not completely true). The 2005 Mustang looks badass, and reminds me a little of my first car a 1968 Mustang. Hmmm, maybe this will help me attain SplendaDaddy status.

Cheers!
Paulie [eatl/ga]

I hate fast food establishments. However, for some reason I like Taco Bell. Maybe because it’s so cheap, maybe because I go so infrequently the “New Item” is different every time, or maybe I just like bad Mexican food. It’s probably all three. On Saturday whilst Christmas shopping for myself, I walked from Best Buy over to Taco Bell. My friends, Atlanta is far from pedestrian-friendly, but I figured that if I was going to clog the system I needed the walk. Tip of the day, eat the Fajita Grilled Stuft Burrito (um, TB I think that should be Stuffed) with steak; washed down with a Mountain Dew, it’s a meal to make me happy.

While noshing on my burrito I witnessed a family going through a ritual which I assume is as old as dirt — “calling it.” Yes, while leaving the ‘restaurant’ the kids were each “calling” what position in the car they wanted. (note - I don’t think you are allowed to call “Shotgun” until you are of legal driving age) I was amused and wondered when the last time I “called” something, who first “called it”, and how this ritual has spread over time. Remember we were doing this in the Dark Ages (read “back before the internet existed”).

Cheers!
Paulie [eatl/ga]

While not nearly as impressive as beating swords into plowshares, this morning I temporarily turned my laptop into a writing board. It’s Christmastime, which must mean that I am tardy sending out my Christmas cards to relatives and friends. So, in addition to my laptop I dragged my Christmas cards to the coffee shop this morning an proceeded to catch up. I guess I was also hoping that some attractive lady would think “Wow, that ruggedly handsome man is writing Christmas cards? What a perfect combination of looks and kindness *swoon*.” Hey, a man can dream, right? A man can also fantasize, but only in the privacy of his own home (see also George Michael and Pee Wee Herman). Try The Veal!!!! I’m Here All The Week!!!

Christmas cards harken me back to my youth in New York. Growing up in a Ozzie and Harriet household, my mother decorated the house around Christmas like a fiend. Sometimes I think she was born to decorate for Christmas. We had a trimmed tree, obligatory nativity scene and slogans like “Merry Xmas” (cut us some slack, it was the 70’s and we used to say things like “Xmas” and “Keep On Trucking” back then) sprayed onto the front window with fake snow. It seemed like mom spent days writing out Christmas cards and would then walk them down to the mailbox on the corner to send them on their merry way. She had so many cards I thought that she was either the most popular woman in Whitestone, or that we had the largest family ever (I am the product of non-birthcontrol using Catholics). Today I realize that I am wrong on both accounts, but don’t care because it will never ruin the memory.

The beard keeps winning praise (from women I might add). This eventhough it has moved from George Michael to Grizzly Adams. One of today’s tasks it to find a beard trimming device in order to tame this beast. The New Electric Razor Hostage count is now at 20 days.

Sunday marks the **th birthday of one of my favorite people in the Whole Wide World, *****. You know who you are and if for some reason happen to drop by and read this, Happy Birthday Yo! “You’re The Tops!”

I thought I had many more ideas to pump out today, but have seemed to run out of creativity….

Cheers!
Paulie [eatl/ga]

The sign on Supreme Fish Delight read “Now Serving Breakfast.” Ewwwww. If not for a strong will and and iron-clad stomach I may have lost it all this morning. Maybe the sign affected me greatly because I was driving to work a little hung over from last night’s drinking (on a fairly empty stomach), or perhaps it was because Supreme Fish Delight looks barely passable as a “deeply fried fish” joint and has no business offering breakfast (my favorite meal).

You may be one in a million, but that means in China there are a thousand people just like you
Ever have one of those moments when you meet someone who has the same bizarre theory as yourself? Last night at George’s the discussion of Atlanta, snow, street closings, and the shopping habits of people fearing being “shut in” arose. I have always been amused that when snow is prediced people buy the three most perishable items found in the grocery store — milk, bread, eggs. My retort has always been “I don’t understand why when a little snow falls people have a craving for french toast.” No sooner did my joke (humorous observation?) leave my mouth when someone else at the bar made the same comment. Strange. So much for being very unique (I know, I know, this too is a joke.)

I’m off to do some research on the Pillsbury Dough Boy…

Cheers!
Paulie [eatl/ga]

Argh!!!! My efforts to lose weight before buying a suit for Kevin’s wedding have failed. In fact, they have backfired and I have gained weight. Booooo!!! Hisssss!!! My weight gain is not a mystery — my Hand-To-Mouth disease continues (read “drinking too much beer and eating everthing in sight”) and my exercise routine hasn’t exactly been stellar. Whose fault is this? Mine, all mine. Now it is up to me to buy a suit that fits now (and will on Jan 1) and then go about changing my habits.

I’ve done the weight-loss thing before. In the early nineties I was fat (not phat, which would have been very different)! Weighing in at 245lbs while standing at a modest 5′9″ I sported a waistline of 42″ (which in those days was a high as you could be without having to move to the “Big and Tall” section.) Thanks to the constant prodding of my friend Doug (dude, I need an excuse to travel to Australia — get married already!) I started an exercise routine which would eventually remove 70lbs from my body over a two year period. For years I kept the weight off, but thanks to a knee injury suffered in my one-and-only marathon in 2000 and my love of the food and beer, part of that weight has crept back on, bringing me to my current weight of ~200lbs (still standing at 5′9″).

In an humorous side note I have heard that President Bush put on a few pounds eating too many doughnuts during his re-election campaign and is planning on shedding some weight next year. FINALLY, I have something in common with this man. Yes, Paulie is a Democrat.

So my dear friends, if you happen to see me out and about this holiday season cramming food into my face or drinking my umteenth beer (please wait until the umteenth since it’s my only remaining vice) feel free to mock me, by making pig noises and such. Go ahead, I seriously need the reminder.

What Were You Thinking Wednesday
My company is strange. We are as cheap as cheap can be, and ask for no apologies for being this way. As a nice gesture our VP decided that he wanted to buy our office a Christmas, er Holiday, gift. His stipulations were that the gift should be usable by all, and not exceed a certain amount (hell, this was coming out of his pocket so I can’t fault him). The choice? An electric massage chair. What the fuck? Sure it’s nice, but do I want to sit in a chair that everyone else has been using? And it is not an industrial strength model, so how long do you think it will take 100+ people using it every day to break it? I give the poor thing until February. Like every other gift I guess that it is the thought that counts…

Cheers,
Paulie [eatl/ga]

I rarely go to see medium-to-big concerts these days. My live music has been limited to bars. It’s not because I don’t like the bands coming here, it’s because I hate getting gouged by Ticketmaster. Let’s face it, Pearl Jam was right! Ticketmaster is a monopoly and screws it to the public when it comes to their fees. Give an example you say? Alright here we go….

Keane and The Zutons are coming to the Coca-Cola Roxy late in January. These are not “big” acts, so I was glad to see that ticket prices were set at $20 (a bargain in my mind). Now let the screwing begin.

Ticket Price = $20
Ticketmaster’s “convenience charge” = $5.65 (that’s a 28% fee PER TICKET if you are scoring at home)
Ticketmaster’s “transaction fee” = $4.10
Snail Mail postage = Free (or I can print it myself for the low, low price of $2.50)

GRAND TOTAL for a $20 ticket is $29.75, what a fucking bargain!

Now before you go jumping my ass for being a cheap bastard, think about how many tickets are purchased through Ticketmaster each day. Somehow these fees and charges seem a bit steep to me.

Maybe I’ll just take my chances and see if there are any tickets available the day of the show.

Tuesday’s Toy
I would have liked to declare my new fake tooth (crown) the Toy Of The Day, however I am quite displeased at the moment. Since being installed this morning it has never felt right. I have this sensation that I have something lodged between it and the tooth in front of it. I have flossed the fuck out the gap, but to no avail. I have a feeling that if things don’t correct themselves by tomorrow I’ll be visiting my dentist again long before I had intended.

Cheers,
Paulie [eatl/ga]

Talk about differences…

ITP went OTP this weekend, to Raleigh NC to be specific. Normally I hop into the Jackmobile (as in carjack) and take the six-hour drive. I love driving. Seriously, I do. I get to set my own schedule, eat at Waffle House (need I link to them again?), and look for bizarre sodas such as Cheerwine when gassing up the car. The slogan “See The U-S-A in a Hon-d-a.” (sorry Chevrolet, you just don’t capture the imagination of this driver) However, time and money won the battle this time and I decided to fly.

Friday’s flight was horrible. The flight was overbooked (thankfully I got the airport early enought to claim a seat) — which meant no room at all in the cabin, we were late leaving the ground by at least twenty minutes, and hit turbulance (I thought I might get airsick for the first time.) All this flight was missing was a surly flight attendant and a screaming child. It was “air bus” travel at its worst. I was ready to start wasting people using either the nail clippers that airport security failed to confiscate, or the plastic knife issued along with the metal fork at the airport Chili’s. A cooler head prevailed when I decided not to be admitted to a Federal Penitentiary (I am sure that any offense occurring at an airport is a Federal offense) and relaxed.

I was ready for another fiasco on the return flight home. Did you know that the Raleigh airport checks your boarding pass no fewer than four times? Three of those checks happen within twenty feet of one another — prior to going through the metal detector, at the metal detector, and at the end of the cramped area where one returns valuables to pockets, laptops to cases and shoes to feet! With the exception of the asshole who ignored the request to turn off his laptop until the last possible second (buddy, whatever movie you were watching couldn’t have been that good) this flight was nearly 180 degrees from Friday’s. There were about thirty people on the flight with no one else in my row; the flight left early and arrived early (only to be delayed because our intended gate was occupied).

While I enjoyed the extra time spent with friends, I think my future trips might take a cue from Willie Nelson and be “On The Road Again.”

Cheers,
Paulie [eatl/ga]

It’s Me! 

I have long believed that girls are evil. Hey, it’s not *my* fault they don’t find me attractive!!! Anyway, yesterday someone sent The Proof which validates my belief.

The Proof:

1) It has long been said that Girls require Time and Money
Girls = Time * Money

2) It is known that Time is Money
Time = Money

3) Therefore
Girls = Money * Money = Money ^2

4) Also known to us is that Money is the root of all Evil
Money = Evil ^1/2

5) Giving us
Girls = (Evil ^1/2) ^2

6) Resulting in our Conclusion
Girls = Evil

It now plain for all to see, well plain enough for a Friday morning spent in a coffee shop prior to heading to the dreaded land known as “Outside The Perimeter.”

Have a fantastic weekend!

Cheers,
Paulie [eatl/ga]

Ask ten Atlantans what they hate most about our city, and at least eight will respond “the traffic.” So, I find it strange that in fewer than twenty-four hours I have experienced a truly crappy ride leaving work, and an wonderful one to work.

Most of the time when Atlanta’s traffic blows one of two things can be blamed
- time
- weather

Enter the magic Rush Hour(s), or toss a little water on the roadways and all things go to hell. Bring a little of each to the party and you might as well pull over and have a drink or eat a meal. It’s just not worth the frustration.

From The Twisted Minds Of PlayJam
On Dish Network there is a collection of OpenTV interactive games. Most of them suck, in fact, they all pretty much suck. However, recently there have been some which make me laugh.

- “Wee Wee Kitty” is a game in which you try to clear a board by selecting a flower and a cat comes out and pees (complete with sound effects) on the flower, clearing all similar blocks connected to the one peed upon. The object seems to be to clear the entire board before your cat runs out of urine.
- “Beat The Meat” is a game in which you pick a meat-related character, such as Awaken The Bacon, and you have three sprint-style races to prove that nobody beats their meat with great vigour than you; their words, not mine.

Are these reasons enough to subscribe to Dish? No, but when I am feeling down and need something to pick me up, there is nothing better than beating my meat….

Cheers!
Paulie [eatl/ga]