Beer Olympics

Beer Olympics

Hey you pathetic athlete wannabes!  Grab your Sunday sippy cups and rex specs because it is time to compete for the Gold.  In honor of the true athletes of the 2010 winter Olympics and Beer,  ASM is hosting our own winter Olympics.  However, ours are real stupid.  Our events dating back to the early Greeks and include Beer Pong, Flip Cup, Quarters,  Beer Obstacle course, Beer Trivia, Three legged beer chug, Beer Checkers,  10 minutes in the closet, Truth or Dare, Spin the Bottle, Oiuja Board, Beer Battleship, No Armed Tug of War, and many others.  You can register as a team (4 people to a team, at least 1 chick per team) or simply come as a spectator!  REGISTER NOW by emailing events@asocialmess.com because we really want you to and think you are real pretty.

SHAM(yacht)ROCK IRISH FEST 3/6!

Here we grow again!  Pardon our progress!  Sorry, that was gay.  FACT: Irish people love booze.  FACT: A Social Mess loves booze. FACT: Park Tavern has booze.  FACT: Yacht Rock sings amazing songs.  What? ….Per the Governor of Georgia, A SOCIAL MESS has teamed up with PARK TAVERN to throw the grandest Irish party in the land, sea and air.  On March 6th Park Tavern will be transformed into Park Tavern and host YACHT ROCK as well as a complex array of completely odd entertainment as we present SHAM(yacht)ROCK IRISH FEST.  Simply put, an ass ton of people, amazing entertainment, endless supply of mind altering booze and a sweet venue.  We only need to sell 8,000 tickets to break even so bring your stupid cousins.  It is going to be real real REAL fun.  If you don’t hook up at this event , your avatar obviously has visible cold sores.

irish 1

You’re so Vain…

monsterman

…you probably think this blog is about you.

Hey. Since I’m pretty new to this blogging thing, I decided to do some surfing on the American Online to see what exactly people blog about, specifically females. My findings are that every girl that happens to be “single” and living in a “city” (Social Circle to Provo UT) seems to think they are Carrie Bradshaw (for those of you living on another planet..that’d be “Sex and the City”). All the gripes are the same…every girl writing is exceptional, oddly perfect, none of their friends can even believe they are single, so hot, a rare bird, one of the few “catches” out there that just hasn’t met “the right guy” yet because all guys are afraid of a “strong and independent woman,” all are commitment-phoebes that only think with their dicks, and they are all basically under qualified freaks that shouldn’t even have the audacity to ask for her coveted number. Get the fuck out of here…and let me just preface before I dig any deeper here, I am short…really short, 28, recently single, have fake blond hair, bleach my teeth, wear padded bras, have hair extensions, don’t always keep up with my pedicures (or manicures), I say/do dumb things when I drink (and when I don’t drink), can’t type with both hands, am a selfish only child, talk excessively (insert your own opinion here)…to say the least…I am a very flawed girl…far from perfection. With that said, I’m no saint, but I dig it (flaw #455, dumb hippie jargon) when someone gives me a compliment. I’ve seen what goes into approaching a girl…sometimes, long before he even walks up, he’s either had a pep talk from his buddy, or he’s on a bet for a number close. Walking up to a group of girls is an even bigger risk…ever fallen down the flight of stairs in the middle of East Andrews? (I have..flaw #456, clumsy as shit ((Flaw #457, sailor mouth)), getting rejected while your friends are watching is probably the equivalent to that feeling. It’s a compliment to have ANYONE hit on you, because it takes courage…and you (believe it or not) are not perfect either. I do get that some guys are over the top (refer to sexy man in photo with me..but Barry was harmless, I entertained him), you don’t have to be a complete bitch to get them to move along..(you don’t have to take that $12 drink either). All of the fabulous singletons writing these blogs have two things in common..1) no one seems to be “good enough” for them and 2) They are all single. I smell a parallel. Hey Gloria, if everybody wants you, why isn’t anybody calling?

“She really has an over-inflated sense of self confidence that stems from nowhere.”-John Teitter, Bang! Salon

The Car is not Home

You are not alone

I love a long road trip alone…my music, junk food, truck stop shopping, stopping whenever I want and talking to myself…I get to feeling like I’m right at home. But I am not at home, I am in public..in times, even on display. Ive heard the stories of people and the things they’ve done in their cars; Peeing in cups, peeing in pants, peeing out windows, applying makeup, strokin’, watching DVD’s (of ALL genres) and if you have a VHS player in your car…you are my hero, dancing, knitting, sleeping, and the ever-so-popular picking of the nose. However, It’s what I’ve seen with my own eyes that has made me realize that some people get so accustomed to their automobiles that that leave reality. A month or so ago, a few of us were on the road home from Alabama, when I looked next to us to see a man who appeared to be having a medical issue, his face was convulsing, and he was dry heaving..so it seemed. I made eye contact with him, and he lifted himself off the seat to show all of us his glory…yep..he was “taking care of himself” and lucky us, we came in at the finish. He then fish-tailed off the next exit and we had an awkward ride home in silence..suddenly all of my Zaxby fries looked like little penises. Ew. That is actually the second time I’ve seen that, (you know who you are Mr. driving south on GA 400 in your tan Chevy Avalanche with Gwinnett tag and UGA sticker)…sick bastard. There was also the car I was next to in traffic recently, elderly couple, wife is driving and smoking with the windows up..hubby is in the passenger seat hooked to an Oxygen tank. If I had a dollar for every person Ive seen picking his/hers nose, I would have $87.50 and be rich (kids count as .5). We are all on the road for one reason, to get someplace. Eventually you will arrive at your destination, and make that place the one you do these things at (except for you, oxygen tank lady..who is probably related to Tawny Kittain). The ostrich buries its head in holes because it believes if it can’t see you, you cant see it…but we are not ostrich and the car is not home…so get you finger out of your nose and your hand out of your pants.

The Dreamcatcher

 Nikky Cheer Munchkin

The Little Engine That Could.

I’m just not that far off from a dream catcher..I’ve got the Indian in me (Native, not dot, to be PC (because “dot” Indian is PC)). I go after crazy ideas and dream a little more than anyone with half a brain cell should…look about as silly as a leather and feather air freshener..but what the hey, the worst anyone could ever tell you is “no”, right? I am told “no” a good bit, but I just keep on keepin’ on..we were the “Fayette Christian Falcons” growing up, and I really was crazy about the National Football League “Atlanta Falcons.” In my far fetched mind, I always thought we were somehow affiliated with the NFL team…and I WAS GOING TO BE A FALCONS CHEERLEADER…damn it. Tryouts were concluded, but that just didn’t stop me at 5 yrs old from joining in team practices, telling my mom to pick me up late, giving directions on how/where to get my uniform and saddle oxfords.  I had it all figured out…except how to actually get ON the team.  That was, until I pitched an only child fit after about 6 practices (that I just showed up at…couldn’t keep a beat to save my life). Being the Christians they were, the school let me on the team..only later to kick me out for thinking I was Michael Jackson (again, whole nuther’ blog). Either way, it set the precedent, that I could have what I wanted..anything was possible. I really wanted cheer for our middle school team, but was terrible..never made it..(didn’t help either that I was ugly as shit). So the whole time, I was working hard in gymnastics and cheering for the local rec team..of course when high school tryouts came around, everyone made fun of me…”How are you going to make high school when you couldn’t even make middle school?!”…well, I made it…and I was still ugly as shit. I went off to college and turned 18, and I knew I wanted to cheer on the REAL Falcons, but soon found it was not cheering as much as it was technical dance…5 years later, and about eleventy thousand dance classes…I was on the team.  Never gave up…fell a few times…looked like a loser most of the time…cried in interviews…wore the wrong outfits…but I kept on (and the ugly as shitness diminished a little too, no I did not get a boob job).  I went after it, and that’s just one example of the ridiculous lengths I’ll go to in order to achieve…so needless to say, I greatly appreciate people that get that, and drill just as hard.  One of those people is a guy I met about four years ago, and the first night I ever hung out with him, he told me he was going to open a bar someday.  Already having a business of his own that was pretty much he and his friends brainchild, I knew he’d somehow manage to pull it off eventually…but it wasn’t until he teamed up with someone who cares deeply (and daydreams constantly) about his current business, and keeps it her main priority, giving him time to focus and put the wheels in motion…that he got in touch with his inner shaman feathers, and did it.  With that said, a huge congratulations is in order to Trey Humphreys and John John Delladona, a social messes own, on yet another business venture: the newest owners of POOL HALL in Buckhead! May all of the ugly as shit dreamers such as myself come and sit and drink at your new Atlanta hotspot!

*DISCLAIMER-Dreamcatchers, however, are not ugly as shit, and I think everyone should have several in your homes, cars and businesses…if you want to look wise.

“Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.” -Winston Churchill

Beaches are Fun

“I guess I should’ve known, by the way you parked your car sideways, that it wouldn’t last.”

Nikky's Parking Spot

Dummy Note

That’s because WHO would ever be friends much less involved with, anyone who takes up two parking spots?  You have GOT to be kidding me.  Actually, I take that back, I WOULD like to hang around anyone that rationalizes this jacka*s’ move…for the sheer joy of cracking into their warped minds.  I get it, door dings suck..they really do.  I actually go out of my way to park far away and space myself out fairly (ok, I don’t drive in circles looking for a close/perfect parking spots, that’s a whole nuther’ blog…especially when folks do it at the gym..but I digress), anyway.. when it does happen, I am ultra mad..but at the end of the day, it’s just a car.  Anyone who is that obsessed with their car (I don’t care if it’s the latest Subaru..which you 2 fast 2 furious boys seem to be over-enthusiastic about these days..that royal blue color..with the clear tail lights…) it’s an object, and in my findings; it’s an object that is more likely to be keyed or damaged when showing your tragic uncoolness…by inconveniencing other patrons that would like a parking spot.  Thanks!

68 Year Old Virgin

I am colorful because I come from color.

Politely put.  We’ve all got them in our families…you know, the ones that you would worry if you ever married someone decent may run for the hills if they met?  In my case though, it’s really my ENTIRE lineage.  However, by some miracle, my parents are fantastic…like a typical girl, dad is my hero..which is nice, kept me solid (by “solid” I mean “not slutty”), and mom is just the strongest woman I know.  If that’s not a damn dream in itself..I also have great step parents…yep, GREAT. But then theres my great aunt, “Millie” who was made to live at home and take care of her father until he died, she was 68 when the old bastard finally kicked the bucket (he was an ass), turning great aunt Millie loose in the social scene at 68 and a VIRGIN..yes, a virgin.  Now she is pushing 94 and GETTING IT at her retirement community…the Jewish towers in Atl, (not only is she not Jewish, no one in our family is…so this begs the question, “Who did she sleep with?”).  When I was 13, she gave me a pair of thongs with jingle bells on them, and told me to “Get with the times and not wait as long as she did.”  At the last family function, aunt Millie went on to tell a story about a guy in her building she was sleeping with, apparently he was also sleeping with another 90-ish damsel across the hall who claimed to be constipated in an attempt to cut aunt Millie and her beau’s date short…but aunt Millie was no fool…she put on her sexiest lingerie and “seduced” him into not going to the store, and aunt Millie said (in her southern accent that borederline needs subtitles) “Honey, I tell you what, that old scallywag is still sittin over there stopped up.”  Sassifaction…are blogs supposed to be this long?  That’s just one relative…oh Lord, this was a bad idea.

2009 Atlanta River Race

Well the masses turned out and the Chattahoochee won! after 9 hours on the water and countless bruises and cuts, the Atlanta River Race was over.  To our knowledge, only one one person was missing and one person went to the hospital. 150-200 people turned out including 5 Paces Inn, Tin Lizzy’s Cantina, Mellow Mushroom Pizza, Kramers, All Bar All Stars, Fur Bus and of course, Bud Light Lime.  The cliffs claimed many scars and most folks have developed a rash of some kind since.  All in all, a fantastic adventure!

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