Just Suck It

Yes, it's true, I can be quite the snarky little bitch at times.  But as many friends have come to know, that's just Mikey, and Mikey's an asshole.  Fuck it.  If you don't like something that I have to say, then tune it out, turn it off, or whatever.  This isn't about your fucking opinion.  You want to read your own opinion, then start your own fucking blog.  I'm here for me, and those others that are missing a good portions of their prefrontal cortex and think along the same lines as me.   I don't write this shit to be popular, to win friends, or to impress.  I could give a flying fuck what you think of my and my writing.  I do this as a therapeutic effort to relax  away my angst at the world over the stupid shit that I see every day.  That being said, keep reading, because it's all coming out now.

Amen to your motha.

Liquor Store, Gun Shop, Liquor Store... Church?!

Many of you, but in case you didn't, I recently relocate myself and as many loved ones as I could to Georgia, the beautiful state of the Great South.  I have to say to anyone considering this, that it has been the best decision that I've made in quite some time.  I love it down here!  Every day is better than the one before.  The people bring out the best in everyone with an honest and genuine Southern Hospitality.  The food is great, the drink is better, the pay's the same, and cost of living is wayyyyyy lower.  Like I said I can't say enough about it.  Oh, and then there's the journeys and expeditions that one gets to experience here like you can nowhere else in the world.  I know.  I've been.  But those are stories for another time (trust me they'll come, either here or in the book that's in the works.  And then there's yesterday, which will be forever ingrained in my brain as the coolest, yet most fucked up night that I've had since... well, you decide.

Since moving down here, a lot of friends have expressed their desire to visit.  Most to come down and party it up, visit the ATL, etc.  The usual bullshit.  But it's the messages that started a few days ago from an old high school friend that just set everything up perfectly.  He and a friend of his were in Florida taking care of some family business and starting on a pilot project for a television show idea that they have, and having seen that I had just moved to Georgia via Facebook, thought it a cool idea to swing by on their return trip to Minnesota. After some negotiations, it was decided that they would swing by the house in the evening on their way through, we'd chat, catch up, and they'd continue on their way to fame, fortune, travel, and joy.  Great.

So, I get home from work.  See my bud, meet a new one, have a drink, finish up grilling some chicken for the girls, and Mike says, "We have to go out tonight, it's on me.  Dinner and hit the bar."  Awesome!  "You know anywhere to go yet?"  Uh, no, I didn't.  I tried to call a couple new friends that were familiar with the are to ask them, to no avail.  That's when I hear the pipe-up of, "Do what we've been doing for the last couple months...Google 'Shithole bars in name your city.'"  Before they could stop me, I had out my phone, was on Google, typing in "Shit... hole... bars.. in... Marietta... Georgia."

Murph's Lounge.  The first hit.  Close to home, quaint dive bar...check out the GPS... I know the area where it is, should take about five minutes to get there.  Awesome!  I finish up the chicken for the girls.  Kisses and good-byes.  Change clothes, and we're on our way.  My girl left her phone at a friend's when she was out the weekend before, so I leave my phone with her, and we'll use my friend's GPS.  We pile in the van, make a quick liquor run for my girl, and we're on our way. Then, we hit the road to the bar.  We're off to Murph's Lounge, dive bar shithole in Marietta.  Awesome, we're pretty much guaranteed some decent food, strong drinks, good local people, and some fun and interesting times.

Driving down the road, the GPS takes us on a route that's different than my phone was, but I don't have my phone with, so who am I to say we're not going in the right direction.  So, I start blasting the music on the hard drive in the stereo.  Just letting it play random songs while we continue on our little drive... that just doesn't seem to want not end.  And we're driving... and we're driving... and then I start to notice that we're most likely not in Marietta anymore.  Eh, we're on an adventure.  Let the GPS take us where it may.  We'll eventually find our way back home.  We've done this plenty of times in the past back in Minnesota when we were younger, what could go wrong?

Well, the drive continued and continued, and I started to notice little things... It was a lot darker.  There were NO street lights.  Then I noticed a building, that as passed, it became evident that the there was a fire, some looting, and... shit, bullet holes in the fucking wall... then Dr. Dre's The Chronic started playing on the stereo... Then one of the guys said, "Gun shop, liquor store, gun shop.  Shit.  Where the fuck are we going?"  Two blocks later... "Gun shop, liquor store, gun shop... church?!... Is that?... Martin Luther King Drive?!  Fuck, we wanted a dive bar, not a gonna die bar!  Mikey, what the fuck?  How does this look?  Three middle-aged white guys, driving a white late model minivan, with Minnesota plates, bumpin' Dr. Dre, in the 'hood---no, the fucking hood, in Atlanta... at night!"  I started laughing hysterically.   Stopped at a light and snatched the GPS from my friend, and took a look.  It wasn't taking us to our desired destination in Marietta.  No, we weren't headed to Murph's Lounge.  We were apparently going to some place called J.R.'s!  So I corrected the destination on the wondrous lil Garmin.

JR's Lounge - Open Thursdays, Fridays and Sundays
from 8:00 PM to ?? Party Time

Did it say, "Make a legal U-turn at the next intersection," like we would be backtracking to Murph's?  Fuck no!  No, instead it said continue for one quarter mile and turn right onto Interstate 20.  Fuck.  So we just drove pointlessly through the hood's back streets like the naive fools we were, saw the legendary "liquor store, gun shop, liquor store," watched what I swear was a crack deal go down, and lived to tell the tale.

And that was just the thirty mile drive to get two miles to Murph's Lounge, a shithole bar in Marietta, GA.  Then, we went into the bar... and the real fun began!

In all, I have to say that the bar was awesome.  The people were great.  The barbecue was fucking phenomenal.  The drinks were cheap and strong. And once we were finally there, we had a fucking blast.  Highly recommended to visit, I just wouldn't suggest the path that we traveled to get there.

 

Okay, I'm Back, and I Won't Be Taking Prisoners...

I've found, over the years, that I have a rather insatiable thirst for life.  Something that has come to the forefront of my life in recent past.  I have also learned that:

• An old dog can learn new tricks,
• Business is business, even when it isn't,
• You can trust anyone, just wear nice socks,
• The government is here to help fuck you, and finally...
• I've been told repeatedly of late that no one can hang with Mikey.

There have been some major changes in my life over the last several months, and in going through these changes, Mikey's let a little loose...and when Mikey lets loose...watch out.