10.07.2008

Some things that suck

Damn you Knoxville. Splash pads and fountains may play well with the average dolt of a citizen that blindly looks at parks and greenways on face value as signs of culture. Meanwhile, those of us with a basic understanding of filth and disease shake our heads in disgust. Since this sign was clearly a post-poop afterthought, no one in a position of authority dared think that degenerate parents would allow their Hellish drop to prance about non-treated water in diapers. Just fucking awful.



Damn you Fulmer. A common refrain these days in Big Orange Country, made all the more relevant given the lackluster victory over a lackluster opponent. The collapse of the college football season means ill tempers and a social epidemic of drinking away one's sorrows. Though we here believe in 'drinking our way through it' as described last week, it would be pleasant to have a reason to celebrate. Instead, the evenings following a UT game are not the festive events like they were during my college days. Saturday night was like a leper colony sans the hope.



Damn you wine hangover. Look, since the dawn of civilization and grape-stomping, people have grappled with the dehydrated headaches of drinking too much vino. Following last week's WOTW festival on the river, my head was pounding like a full-on artillery barrage. I've been to three of these things and nothing goes totally right for me. As an event, it's a great deal of fun. A varied selection of wine and food from local and regional vendors, plus its for charity so you can fool yourself that you are part of something better than swilling wine on Friday(which you would be doing anyway, drunkie).



Damn you Cleveland Browns fans.




Mother of God, look at this asshole. While I endorse pelting non-performers with rotten vegetables and C-cell batteries(similar damage to D batteries, but lighter) I cannot help wanting to become the biggest shill and program homer when faced with the likes of this 'fan'

Damn you local schmucks. While walking through the World's Fair Park Saturday I once again lamented the lack of a rocking bar in the former L&N. When I was a boy, it was the first place I really can remember people getting plastered. I wanted to be one of those patrons and eagerly looked forward to drinking there on my eighteenth birthday. Two things prevented me from doing so: The utterly capricious decision to bump the drinking age to twenty-one, and the asshole jerks that seem to have their fingers in everything. Sure, nothing escaped the financial turmoil after 82 down there, but gradually business and life has returned to the Park, be it in the Sunsphere or Convention Center. The meddling historic assholes and nebulous power players in this town can't agree on what to do with the place. It's a shame. Sitting on that enclosed patio looking over the Park would be a capital locale for casual boozing.

Come down to the Brewer's Jam this weekend and see if you agree about the L&N. Failing that, you can at least get some sweet beer action. That, at least, will not suck.

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