hAvE gOnE 4oUr ToAsT &nD oVaLtInE. --Kit ...PS: wIlL bE bAcK iN 15-20 mIn.
I went to Atlanta last week. In the past four years, I've visited three times --and one of those was for an improv festival so it doesn't really count-- and every time I go, I remember how much I like being there. City, people, atmosphere... sorry, I'm supposed to be being funny. Let me start over:
kosherpickle was heading down there, and so I caught a ride with him. Of course, this meant he had to drive a van for 13 hours straight, so it became my unstated duty to keep him from going insane and killing us both in a head-on with a billboard for JR.
My first real attempt at this job came when I saw that the car far ahead of us had JUST MARRIED written in large letters on its rear window. Thinking quickly, I suggested, "Huber. Ram 'em."
He sped up, but as we neared, we decided not to follow through, since they obviously had enough problems as it was. See, as we came up behind them, we saw the rest of the writing:
But that wasn't all. As we moved over to find a better vehicle to ram, I saw a pick-up truck right in front of the Married car. It was further away and we were moving, so this picture is blurred:
...but the text says:
Help! Just Married
Help! And Goin Fishin'!
Separate cars, and a honeymoon fishing trip. Yes, I think I understand the problem.
We got just over the Georgia state line and stopped at the first rest stop of the state. Just inside, there were three restroom varieties: Men, Women, and...
For you un-P.C.-heads out there, it's not a dysfunctional family; it's a handi-capable family.
I turned to use the Men's restroom, opened the door, and discovered an odd greeting:
"Welcome Georgia!" Not 'Welcome to Georgia', which would make sense. No, apparently, they assume someone named Georgia is going to use the Men's bathroom. Or perhaps the message is in all the varieties, and Georgia's just one of those women who doesn't care about insignificant things like gender-signs.
Regardless, as we left the rest stop, we noticed another confusing little welcoming sentiment:
As Huber said, "Ah yes. Georgia: The friendliest border state."
Okay. At this point, the hilarity-stupid began. Huber had printed directions from Google Maps that conflicted with all common sense.
Common Sense: Just use the highway you're already on.
Google Maps: Take the sceeeeenic route.
Well, obviously, these directions would get us there faster, right? That's the whole point, right? Exceeeeeeept...not. For example, these directions had several steps that told us to "Bear right" on certain roads. In two separate instances, this turned out to mean "Go straight" and once it meant "Turn sharply to the left."
We called ahead to assure our hosts that we were still alive, and we had a hilariously confusing phone conversation about where we weren't. Finally, we got back to the road we were supposed to be on, which was heralded by a sign reading:
Cumming
Cant on"
Well, fun. Anyway, we did eventually arrive, and the next day, while everyone was at work, Huber and I explored places that I remembered as being completely different than how they are now. On our way out of one such place, I nearly passed by a great pun, but luckily managed to write my wrong (Ha).
It's an oddly reddish-brown city bird.
...or, in other words, a clay pigeon.
Hooray for wordplay!
Gift of the punned-its,
and --in online settings--
so well e-quipped.
Later, my friends had a band practice.
The band's name: Jynx's Fault.
The puppet's name: Marcus. You might recognize him from Mega64.
The puppet is available at puppetuniverse.com
I'm amazed by the things my friends find.
The next night we went out for dinner, and one of the people we went with told us that this restaurant was famous for its muffins. ...Odd thing for a New-Orleans-themed restaurant to specialize in, but whatever. In any case, it turns out that you can order the muffins separately, but one is included in the price of a salad. ...Odd thing to pair a muffin with, but whatever.
And then the first plate arrived at the table. Keep in mind that this is the only thing on the table right now:
A blueberry muffin and a dish of thousand island dressing.
...but whatever.
Later that evening, I was playing Lunar II (Need. To play. Lunar. Must. Buy. Must.), and a battle popped up that made everyone in the room laugh:
Sorry, Hiro, but this time you're fighting all three Green Goblins and Hobgoblin to boot! Spidey sends his regards.
The next night, we headed to the comic store, and next door is an actor's studio that's been there forever. But it wasn't until now that I noticed it doesn't quite say "Actor's Studio."
Actor's Stud. O.
Oh, you crazy object-letters. Now I want to do a post solely about you.
Hooray for journal-starters!
Before I get ahead of myself though, I need to talk about a wonderful couple of locations. The first:
Perimeter Square. What a great name, right? As we drove past that sign, I said, "But wouldn't it be great if their main building were called the Perimeter Center?"
Oh, so you mean it is? THAT'S FRICKING AWESOME. Perimeter. Center. And do you see what this intersection is? It's the Corner of Central and Perimeter Center West. Oh, man, you cannot make better names than that.
OH YES YOU CAN! Holy mother of moly, I ran across a Super-Target parking lot while my friends walked in the opposite direction, just so I could snap that shot. The sheer unbelievability of it all, the reckless refusal to be bound by geometric definitions, the suffusion of variations on the theme ... it was beautiful.
After shopping, we headed to lunch at an Asian Fusion restaurant. I ordered, then headed off to wash my hands and saw ... well ... this:
A big sign that says, basically, "No Girls Allowed." As you can see, there's a similar one on the Women's restroom. They apparently don't trust their patrons to get the regular signs. What does common sense say here?
Common Sense: They must be firm believers in negative reinforcement.
Guess so.
On the wall above us, there was a poster for a competition that should really deserve a road trip (boat trip?):
Oh, man, what I wouldn't give to journal that event play-by-play.
Wait...what's that in the upper corner?
Oh no. It's...it's...
(SHUDDER)
After lunch, we headed to Best Buy, my favorite store EVER. So much so, it makes me cry to not have bought anything there. I'm such a good consumer, it's bad for me.
Anyway, there was a CD Player that I think we all secretly want (look at the fine blue print):
"100 Seconds Magic ESP," huh? See, that's the kind of ESP I could get behind. It's a temporary use-activated power, so you don't have to worry about hearing everyone's thoughts all the time. Although, since it's a CD player, you'd probably still have to deal with psychic feedback when people make leaps of logic...unless, of course it has extra skip protection, and in that case, it should tell us that.
At Super-Target, a Thank You card caught me off-guard:
Ohm, huh? Hello Kitty! must be a member of the Sanrio Resistance then.
And just around the corner, a huge sign at the side of the road loomed large, reading:
I agree with my friend Jynx's immediate reaction: "I don't know. I think Dirt got a fair trial. There's no reason to think the system is flawed. Maybe Dirt is actually guilty."
I also wonder if -- when it rains-- they change the sign to read "FREE MUD."
I also kind of want to go back with a dump truck and take as much dirt as it can hold...but only by digging a moat around the huge pile of dirt sitting there.
As all good things do, the visit came to an end, and Huber and I headed back up through South Carolina, where this sign next to the McDonalds soda dispensers advertised what the state's known for:
Way to ignore slang, South Carolina. You just keep beach-dancing, and the rest of us will keep doing the horizontal mambo.
And finally, I'll leave you with the rebus on the Kid's Wall across that same McDonalds:
1) THR - R + RING = THRING
2) How do they get away with saying "FU, Treye"? What did Treye do that makes them separate him from the people who can be N-shrimp-in-a-straw-hat thring they want to be?
.
kosherpickle was heading down there, and so I caught a ride with him. Of course, this meant he had to drive a van for 13 hours straight, so it became my unstated duty to keep him from going insane and killing us both in a head-on with a billboard for JR.
My first real attempt at this job came when I saw that the car far ahead of us had JUST MARRIED written in large letters on its rear window. Thinking quickly, I suggested, "Huber. Ram 'em."
He sped up, but as we neared, we decided not to follow through, since they obviously had enough problems as it was. See, as we came up behind them, we saw the rest of the writing:
But that wasn't all. As we moved over to find a better vehicle to ram, I saw a pick-up truck right in front of the Married car. It was further away and we were moving, so this picture is blurred:
...but the text says:
Help! Just Married
Help! And Goin Fishin'!
Separate cars, and a honeymoon fishing trip. Yes, I think I understand the problem.
We got just over the Georgia state line and stopped at the first rest stop of the state. Just inside, there were three restroom varieties: Men, Women, and...
For you un-P.C.-heads out there, it's not a dysfunctional family; it's a handi-capable family.
I turned to use the Men's restroom, opened the door, and discovered an odd greeting:
"Welcome Georgia!" Not 'Welcome to Georgia', which would make sense. No, apparently, they assume someone named Georgia is going to use the Men's bathroom. Or perhaps the message is in all the varieties, and Georgia's just one of those women who doesn't care about insignificant things like gender-signs.
Regardless, as we left the rest stop, we noticed another confusing little welcoming sentiment:
As Huber said, "Ah yes. Georgia: The friendliest border state."
Okay. At this point, the hilarity-stupid began. Huber had printed directions from Google Maps that conflicted with all common sense.
Common Sense: Just use the highway you're already on.
Google Maps: Take the sceeeeenic route.
Well, obviously, these directions would get us there faster, right? That's the whole point, right? Exceeeeeeept...not. For example, these directions had several steps that told us to "Bear right" on certain roads. In two separate instances, this turned out to mean "Go straight" and once it meant "Turn sharply to the left."
We called ahead to assure our hosts that we were still alive, and we had a hilariously confusing phone conversation about where we weren't. Finally, we got back to the road we were supposed to be on, which was heralded by a sign reading:
Cumming
Cant on"
Well, fun. Anyway, we did eventually arrive, and the next day, while everyone was at work, Huber and I explored places that I remembered as being completely different than how they are now. On our way out of one such place, I nearly passed by a great pun, but luckily managed to write my wrong (Ha).
It's an oddly reddish-brown city bird.
...or, in other words, a clay pigeon.
Hooray for wordplay!
Gift of the punned-its,
and --in online settings--
so well e-quipped.
Later, my friends had a band practice.
The band's name: Jynx's Fault.
The puppet's name: Marcus. You might recognize him from Mega64.
The puppet is available at puppetuniverse.com
I'm amazed by the things my friends find.
The next night we went out for dinner, and one of the people we went with told us that this restaurant was famous for its muffins. ...Odd thing for a New-Orleans-themed restaurant to specialize in, but whatever. In any case, it turns out that you can order the muffins separately, but one is included in the price of a salad. ...Odd thing to pair a muffin with, but whatever.
And then the first plate arrived at the table. Keep in mind that this is the only thing on the table right now:
A blueberry muffin and a dish of thousand island dressing.
...but whatever.
Later that evening, I was playing Lunar II (Need. To play. Lunar. Must. Buy. Must.), and a battle popped up that made everyone in the room laugh:
Sorry, Hiro, but this time you're fighting all three Green Goblins and Hobgoblin to boot! Spidey sends his regards.
The next night, we headed to the comic store, and next door is an actor's studio that's been there forever. But it wasn't until now that I noticed it doesn't quite say "Actor's Studio."
Actor's Stud. O.
Oh, you crazy object-letters. Now I want to do a post solely about you.
Hooray for journal-starters!
Before I get ahead of myself though, I need to talk about a wonderful couple of locations. The first:
Perimeter Square. What a great name, right? As we drove past that sign, I said, "But wouldn't it be great if their main building were called the Perimeter Center?"
Oh, so you mean it is? THAT'S FRICKING AWESOME. Perimeter. Center. And do you see what this intersection is? It's the Corner of Central and Perimeter Center West. Oh, man, you cannot make better names than that.
OH YES YOU CAN! Holy mother of moly, I ran across a Super-Target parking lot while my friends walked in the opposite direction, just so I could snap that shot. The sheer unbelievability of it all, the reckless refusal to be bound by geometric definitions, the suffusion of variations on the theme ... it was beautiful.
After shopping, we headed to lunch at an Asian Fusion restaurant. I ordered, then headed off to wash my hands and saw ... well ... this:
A big sign that says, basically, "No Girls Allowed." As you can see, there's a similar one on the Women's restroom. They apparently don't trust their patrons to get the regular signs. What does common sense say here?
Common Sense: They must be firm believers in negative reinforcement.
Guess so.
On the wall above us, there was a poster for a competition that should really deserve a road trip (boat trip?):
Oh, man, what I wouldn't give to journal that event play-by-play.
Wait...what's that in the upper corner?
Oh no. It's...it's...
(SHUDDER)
After lunch, we headed to Best Buy, my favorite store EVER. So much so, it makes me cry to not have bought anything there. I'm such a good consumer, it's bad for me.
Anyway, there was a CD Player that I think we all secretly want (look at the fine blue print):
"100 Seconds Magic ESP," huh? See, that's the kind of ESP I could get behind. It's a temporary use-activated power, so you don't have to worry about hearing everyone's thoughts all the time. Although, since it's a CD player, you'd probably still have to deal with psychic feedback when people make leaps of logic...unless, of course it has extra skip protection, and in that case, it should tell us that.
At Super-Target, a Thank You card caught me off-guard:
Ohm, huh? Hello Kitty! must be a member of the Sanrio Resistance then.
And just around the corner, a huge sign at the side of the road loomed large, reading:
I agree with my friend Jynx's immediate reaction: "I don't know. I think Dirt got a fair trial. There's no reason to think the system is flawed. Maybe Dirt is actually guilty."
I also wonder if -- when it rains-- they change the sign to read "FREE MUD."
I also kind of want to go back with a dump truck and take as much dirt as it can hold...but only by digging a moat around the huge pile of dirt sitting there.
As all good things do, the visit came to an end, and Huber and I headed back up through South Carolina, where this sign next to the McDonalds soda dispensers advertised what the state's known for:
Way to ignore slang, South Carolina. You just keep beach-dancing, and the rest of us will keep doing the horizontal mambo.
And finally, I'll leave you with the rebus on the Kid's Wall across that same McDonalds:
1) THR - R + RING = THRING
2) How do they get away with saying "FU, Treye"? What did Treye do that makes them separate him from the people who can be N-shrimp-in-a-straw-hat thring they want to be?
.