The 5 Atlanta Festivals You Cannot Miss in 2015 Unless You Literally Can’t Even (Attend)

Sure there is the Dogwood Festival and the Inman Park Festival if you like buying birdhouses made out of license plates but what if you like to party? What if you enjoy a few brews and poor morals? What if you are young, single and sick of Chatroulette? Well friends, we have you covered. Here are the 5 festivals you should put in your day-timer for 2015.

5. TomorrowWorld – Sept 25, 26, 27 Chattahoochee Hills

This is the best EDM festival in the United States and it is in your backyard. Or some farmer’s backyard. Why is it the best? Because it is 21 and up. That’s why. Plus there are no lines for beer because all 60k people are huffing water all night for some reason.

4. FOO FIGHTERS – Oct 4th Centennial Olympic Park

Somehow our buddy Josh has lined up the greatest living band in the entire world for Centennial Park on October 4th. Dave Grohl is the coolest dude on the planet (besides Tony Robbins) and puts on one of the greatest live shows in the world (aside from Siegfried and Roy in Vegas. The tiger guys?) Anyway, if there are tickets still available get your shit together and buy a half dozen.

3. Shaky Knees Music Festival – May 8, 9, 10 Centennial Olympic Park

Ol boy Tim Sweetwood has built up a doozy here over the past few years. What once was held in pure mud at the Masquerade with some indie hippie bluegrass band has evolved into a 400 band fiasco at Centennial Olympic park. Tim, who is much taller than we are, has lined up some greats this year including The Strokes, The Avett Brothers, The Black Lips and some dude named Steve Gunn whoever that weirdo is.

2. Steamhouse Lounge Original Oysterfest – Feb 21st & 22nd 11th St & W Peachtree

This has been an Atlanta staple for the past 28 years. Did you hear me? 28 mother grabbing years. This beast takes place in Midtown and produces around a quarter trillion roasted oysters. Live music, booze, booze, booze and some booze. Budweiser and a shot of Jäger, rinse, repeat.

1. LEPRE*CON – March 14th Park Tavern

Shocker, our party comes in number one. Whatever, THE PEOPLE VOTED. It is the best St. Patrick’s Day party in the universe and doesn’t cost $400 a ticket. There are over 4,000 hot and horny folks making bad decisions and a few making real bad decisions (the contests, damn those contests). There is also a grassy hill, spring break stage, harem of DJs, live band, booze for days and a wet T-shirt contest because we think we are still 17 years old.

There you go folks. Cancel your Netflix and buy a funny shirt because festival season is upon us!

Social Mess Festival Research Division

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A Social Mess and its constituents (those don’t exist) are proud to announce LERPRE*CON 2015 at the Park Tavern on March 14th. Somehow, someway, this party has become our largest and wildest party of the year and we are not even Irish. Ish. There was that one time we racked up 42 shots of Jameson before 9 pm in Little 5 Points which literally brought Tom to tears but let’s put that aside for now. With an average attendance hovering around 4000 people and two full stages, LEPRE*CON has got to be the best-valued ticket on earth. Hell, the damn things start around $10. This year’s entertainment line up is starting to take form with DJ EU, DJ MADFLIP, DJ DK, Jacob & The Good People and more announced soon. The spring break stage is back with ridiculous contests and general buffoonery. As always, there are a few surprises up our sleeves for you green geeks. Take a look at last year’s video if you have never been WATCH THIS VIDEO FOLKS!

We can’t wait to start partying with you folks at 2 pm on March 14th!

LERPRE*CON Leprechauns.

Is The Pool Hall Haunted?

By Trey Humphreys

Who you gonna call? Ghostbusters. So I did.

John John “Rampage” Delladonna, the Executive Director, COO, CEO, CFO, Customer Engagement Adviser and Free Hug Distributor of the world famous Pool Hall, informed me that our beloved Pool Hall is haunted. He claimed that when he is in the Pool Hall alone working on inventory and such, bizarre and random things happen. I claimed that when I am in there highly intoxicated and such, bizarre and random things happen. Clearly haunted.

The Pool Hall is the oldest bar in Buckhead. It was originally opened in 1946 and hasn’t been cleaned since. There is some wear and tear that we like to call, character. God bless there is some character in that place.

Upon the news that John John thinks there is a f*cking ghost in our bar, I decided to call in the experts. Luckily, I have some woo woo friends that deal in the spirit world. Not the vodka spirit world that haunts me but the “we communicate with dead people” spirit world. I summoned them to determine just who or what was haunting the Pool Hall.

Three folks arrived around 4 pm on a dreary Sunday afternoon. There was a petite lady wearing a blanket and fantastic smile; a slender gentlemen resembling an Amish beekeeper and a young gal claiming she can communicate with Arch Angels which are apparently not related to the Hells Angels or Blue Angels. And me, a guy who runs a furry bus company and sells BBQ. DREAM TEAM BITCHES.

I let the crew in the bar as I acted like I was not scared. They slowly moved around the space, stopping once in a while to do weird ghost seances.

All three of them were first drawn to the men’s bathroom. I held my breath and hoped they would do the same. It can be a little off color in there sometimes. God bless them.

Well, guess what?

Yep, there was a ghost in the men’s room. Actually, the head ghost hunter claimed that a woman ran out of the restroom right past her. The other ghost hunter claimed she saw the same woman screaming. The male ghost hunter said our toilets are leaking and we should get them fixed. Helpful.

I can only assume the ghost living in the men’s room at the Pool Hall was screaming because she wound up living (or dying) in the shittiest bathroom of all time. #yolo

The ghost hunters continued on…

The next spirit the main ghost hunter woman felt (or saw or whatever happens) was a huge man. She said he was around 6’4” and massive. Could he be the original owner of the Pool Hall? Maybe the Jolly Green Giant? Maybe a pissed off Mr. Clean? Andre the Giant? Patrick Swayze? Apollo Creed? Joe Cocker? Magic Johnson? Wait…

The ghost crew started to wrap things up. The main ghost lady did one last sweep through the space as the rest of us chatted in the front of the bar.

Apparently, she was communicating with all the spirits asking the bastards to leave the Pool Hall. Sorry, they are not bastards (in case they are hovering above me as I type this ready to launch me into a wall, carve “REDRUM” in my chest or cover me in bees).

She came back up front with a curious smile on her face. She said something happened back there that has never happened to her in all her ghost hunting experiences. Apparently, there was an old woman in the very back of the bar near the last pool table. She said the woman stood there and laughed at her. The old woman ghost was literally making fun of the ghost hunter. Welcome to the Pool Hall.

Come drink with the ghosts in the most haunted bar in Buckhead if you dare….that was dumb.


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The Scariest Christmas of My Life

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house…

Scratch that.

It was Christmas morning and MY WORLD CAME CRASHING DOWN.

Let me preface this disaster with some background info. You see, long ago about third grade, Mom and I were living in an unluxurious 2-bedroom brick house with the approximate value of a current day Ford Taurus. There were only two human beings living in that house and it was me and moms. There was no dad and I had no brothers or sisters. Living the dream. Oh, and a half dozen imaginary friends who thought I was bad ass.

It was Christmas morning, 1982. I woke up at 6 am on the dot like most annoying children on Christmas, eager to explore all my gifts from the almighty Santa Claus. I screamed at mom to get her lazy ass out of bed. IT WAS TIME TO DO THIS. Poor woman. #yolo.


BOOM! I exploded into the living room and…WTF? Yes, there was a tree. And yes, there were milk and cookies. UNEATEN. But no, not a single present. Explain that universe. I mean, Mom didn’t have much money buy my God, how much does a toy cost? Six bucks? Nothing.

Now, let me put this into perspective. I was a young child and up to this point, firm believer in the Christian ideology of an obese elderly man granting gifts through the help of northern reindeer. Sure, he had the same handwriting as mom and somehow serviced around 4 billion people in one night when it took McDonalds 58 years to serve the same number of hamburgers. However, my buddy Ace just bought a 3D printer that apparently can print cars and create free energy so whatever. Stuff happens.

There was no question in my mind that Santa Claus existed because that bastard had been giving me presents my whole life. Until now. Service Merchandise could have their catalog back. I was pissed.

At this moment, I did what all grieving young men would do, cried like a sorority girl after a gallon of vodka and a positive pregnancy test. Mom hugged me, which did nothing for my emotional breakdown, and guided me into the next room where we settled onto our inexpensive couch. What happened next, well, defies logic and put me in therapy for most of my adult life.

As we sat and cried on what I can only remember as a horrid floral print couch, a walking cane came in through the hallway door. A wooden f*cking walking cane. Said cane tapped the hallway door and all the lights in the house went off. I shit you not. Like David Blaine and Jesus Christ had teamed up to magically remove all electricity from my whole house with the touch of a walking stick. I mean even Steven Hawking can’t explain the physics on a walking cane shutting down the entire electrical system of a single-family home. Or half-family home I guess.

“Oh no, looks like Santa might be here” said Mom.

No lady, we are getting robbed and sure to be tied up in some basement for the next 30 years until Anderson Cooper and Lisa Ling dig us out on CNN. Sure, I was a young child but per my earlier statement, there were only two people that lived in that house. And now some kidnapping axe murder/magician just blew out all the lights and is in the next room. My life was over. This I knew for sure.

A few minutes later, as I shivered on the couch praying to every God I had ever been taught, Mom finally said, “should we go in the living room and see if Santa came?”.


There is a cane-welding child murderer in the damn house and you want me to go into the next room? Am I not your biological child? Can you not afford me anymore? Have you always hated me? Who has their own child murdered on Christmas?

“No thanks”, I replied, through a hurricane of tears and hyperventilation.

She finally dragged me into the living room where, God only knows how, Santa had come in, set up all my toys (including a full train set), ate the cookies and milk and somehow exited the house in complete and utter silence. Then the lights magically came back on. Straight poltergeist.

Let me gently remind you of the size of our house. I would say it was approximately the size of 6 refrigerator boxes. This man, Santa, had built an entire room of toys on the other side of the cheapest wall ever created in a low-income house WITHOUT MAKING A SINGLE SOUND. In less than 4 minutes. And escaped, thank God.

To this day, my Mom will not tell me how all of this unfolded or who, if not Santa, was the caned magician/murderer that built 25 toys in less than 4 minutes in a room 6 feet from us. My guess was it was my dad, but he was a complete drunk and had been disappointing me since he left us when I was 3. Must have been Santa.

Also, what Santa comes after 6 am on Christmas?

Merry Christmas folks and please, for the love of God, sleep ‘til at least 7 am.


Ring In 2015 With Yacht Rock Revue & Yacht Rock Schooner

Yacht Rock NYE Gala for those who love booze and wearing fancy captains hats. The beauty of this humdinger is there is always amazing food which includes a massive Krispy Kreme selection this year. EAT IT. As #usie this party is all-inclusive and has your #usie forte of DJs and sweet-soft-rock live music. You can also save $10 by using promo code “ASM”. This allows you to buy 2 pair if lee jeans at Goodwill or a one-month subscription to if you so choose…GET TICKETS HERE

A Magical Night with Susan Boyle

A Magical Night with Susan Boyle 

By Trey Humphreys

To my recollection, I only saw two music shows this past year. Just two. One was the TomorrowWorld Electronic Music Festival with over 300 DJ’s and a billion dollars in lasers, pyro, glow sticks and speakers. The other was Susan Boyle at the Atlanta Symphony place in Midtown. I swear to God.

Photo Oct 26, 7 48 15 PM

Ol girl played here in Atlanta about a month ago, which happened to land on the exact day I was having a few beers, conveniently. It was a Sunday afternoon and I was winning a pumpkin-carving contest at a local watering hole when it hit me like a ton of woman…..


I remembered the Susan Boyle concert was that night in Atlanta. How did I know this wonderfall of information? Because of a fantastic phone call with my Aunt Betty whom I had not spoken with in 25 some odd years. The phone call conversation included: 30 dogs, a house fire, Curves, Asperger’s disease and the Susan Boyle Fan Club. However, that is another story for another time.

Fast Forward to the pumpkin contest…

Deep into the carving, I dialed up the only other human being dumb cool enough to go to the concert with me, Melanie. Thankfully, she owns a delightful sequins dress and one of the most fantastic middle-age-woman wigs on earth. A real gem of a hair piece.

With the pumpkin contest under my belt, I headed home to grab my white tuxedo (with tails).   I assumed that is what most folks wear to a Susan Boyle concert. I was wrong.

We got all dolled up and Ubered down the show. We got dropped off at a restaurant called TAP where we ordered two grilled cheese sandwiches and two dirty martinis. Chicken soup for the soul.

Photo Oct 26, 8 47 26 PM

As I was consuming vodka and eating a cheese sandwich, an elderly woman in a fantastic half-sequins sweater asked if I was Lance.   I assumed she was lost and thought I was her grandson. That or she was the oldest prostitute on earth trying to find her date. Things were looking up…

Post awkward conversation with the old woman, we strolled down to the show and entered the lobby area, which was filled with wheelchairs and Medicare. It felt like I was riding a white horse into the bingo section of a yarn convention.   We got some stares.


We hit the box office and made our way to the cheap seats, which were somewhere around 1200 feet above the stage with limited oxygen. It was a miracle the elderly could mange their way up that high with out the aid of sherpas or cranes.


The Curtains unfolded and BOOM! There she was. Except she was a he. And then he sang. LANCE. Whoever that is, sang two songs. He was the opening act and not the 90-year-old prostitute’s date or grandson. Life comes full circle. What?

Side note: Lance, full of spray tan and amazing hair, was the opening act for Susan Boyle. Let that sink in for a moment. That man tours with Susan Boyle.

And then, like a Build-A- Angel from Heaven, she appeared. The crowd exploded. I scanned the audience for heart attacks. She wore a sleeping gown with flowing feathers on the shoulders and a beaming smile. I think. I was pretty drunk and 80,000 feet above the stage.

Photo Oct 26, 8 11 29 PM

With the voice of a Scottish angel and the stage presence of a dead plant, she opened with Somewhere over the Rainbow and then Winner Takes All by ABBA. She moved her right arm up and down which was the extent of her choreography. There was no dancing, or moving for that matter. She stood, sang, sat, sang, repeat. Literally.

The guy in front of me played backgammon on his phone.

Photo Oct 26, 9 05 58 PM

She even sang the Sarah McLaughlin animal cruelty song.   If only the dogs could hear her. Or cats I guess. Cats. What a disaster of an animal. Nevermind.

While half the audience watched her and the other half watched us, we decided to dip out after 10 unbearable songs. I wanted to find her, or get a picture with her, or kiss her on the lips but never got my chance.

Until next time Suzzy, until next time.

Photo Oct 26, 8 48 04 PM



Lance’s best friend

This Week on Craigslist: Halloween Edition

by Trey Humphreys

Random weirdo party needs a storyteller who can play guitar?

Used t-shirt costume for pregnant woman from a smoke free house?

Got a few demons or ghosts?

Life size scary dude from Monroe with no power cord?

Gently used coffin?

DEAL OF THE WEEK! Perfect for Halloween costume or just fashion!

Costume tips: Do’s & Don’ts

By Trey Humphreys

Who has two thumbs and wears costumes 364 days a year but can’t think of one single f*cking costume for Halloween? This guy.


I have worn some fantastic costumes over the course of my self-debilitating life (see Facebook: so I know a thing or three about good costume-ing. However, when it comes to figuring out my Halloween costume I freak out like a legless cat in a washing machine. Speaking of, I went as a cat one year. A stupid cat. Black shirt, black pants, whiskers and cat ears. I couldn’t even tell my therapist. What a douche.

Since I have been wearing random costumes the majority of my life, I have learned a few things I would like to share with you. One, I mask my insecurities and poor self image with costumes. Two, I’m single. Three, there is no three.

Onward… I would like to give you folks some advice that I have gathered over the last 80 years wearing foolish attire. Here is my list of “Do’s” and “Don’ts” for Halloween costumes:


Fanny Pack

Always, I mean always, wear a fanny pack to hold your wallet, keys, condoms and Palm Pilot. It’s cool and most costumes don’t have pockets. Example: An Octopus with a fanny pack is much cooler than an Octopus with out a fanny pack.



Always have a prop that has nothing to do with your costume. It creates conversations. My buddy “BIG DADDY YUM YUM” would always have a can of SpaghettiOs when we would have a disco night. Why? Who knows but it was pure gold when he pulled it out around hot chicks.


Homemade Costumes

Homemade costumes are always better than store bought costumes. Want to be Wonder Woman? Piece it together at Walgreens, Ace Hardware and the Humane Society.


Neck Brace

Wear a neck brace no matter what your costume is. Believe me.

neck brace


Adding a mustache to any costume makes it 85% better. 95% if you are a female.



Wear Crocs for shoes. They are funny but more importantly comfortable and bacteria free. Cinderella looks better with crocs than stilettos.

croc_shoe Don’ts

Face Paint – Don’t wear face paint if you are single. The horrid beast you mug up with in your buddy’s closet will have evidence all over her face once back in the party. Your friends will make fun of you for the rest of your life. Happened to a friend.

Morph suits – Don’t wear a morph suit. Those are the crocs of costumes and scare the shit out of me. Nobody likes an a-hole in gigantic green panty hose spazing out all over the party. Sorry Brad.

Gigantic costumes – Don’t build a costume that won’t fit through doors or in taxis.

Drugs – Don’t do drugs if you are wearing a full mascot costume. You will overheat and die. Nobody needs their parents finding them dead in a giraffe costume. Vodka on the other hand…

Glitter -Don’t overdo the glitter. You will be picking it out of your face for months. As will the creepy dude you took home who, come to find out, painted on those muscles and is in high school.

Racism – Don’t make fun of other races. Any white guy that wears black face paint probably lives in a trailer in western Kentucky, married a Neanderthal woman and chews Redman on the reg.

Well, good luck out there this year ghouls and gals. I hope everyone has a fantastic Halloween full of French kissing and Pinnacle Vodka.

Halloween Party #5 DJ Q&A

We have a doozy of an entertainment lineup for you this Halloween. Per usual, we have gone 100% over budget mainly because we don’t know how to make budgets. Or spreadsheets. Or do math. Or manage a real checking account. Or do Geometry. Or Algebra. Who cares.

This year we have a harem of live bands: Rueben’s Bell playing Southern Rock upstairs, Woody Pines stripped down sound at camp & The Mar-Tans New Orleans jazz band in the lobby and some “it’s amazing” DJs. We asked our DJs some questions to find out a little more about these guys. Here are their answers:

DJ EU – Atlanta resident (Gold Room, Koo Koo Room, Tongue & Groove) and Red Bull DJ Champion

DJ EU recognized as Atlanta’s #1 Party Rocker, won the title for The Redbull Thre3style qualifier in 2013. His ability to combine his eclectic method with genres ranging from electronic to Latin music gave him the respect he needed in standing out and becoming one of the Southeast’s biggest DJ’s. Since his debut in 2005, DJ EU has rocked the city of Atlanta playing in some of the town’s hottest venues and expanding internationally.

DJ DK – Dice K was born and raised in a cave outside of Guam. DK is the current resident DJ at Cracker Barrel and Annie’s Pretzels at Gwinnett Mall. DK was the original founder of the Baha Men and went on to start the band Pearl Jam. He has never won a break dance contest and dates hot chicks. He has no legs.


Reuben’s Bell Combining Southern rock with a modern sound, Ruben’s Bell is the hottest band in Atlanta right now. Mixing 90’s covers with classic and southern rock, RB brings a killer energy to every event.

Woody Pines No stranger to fans of the new folk music coming from all corners of the USA. Alongside artists like Old Crow Medicine Show and Pokey LaFarge, Woody Pines continues to forage thru the secret world of old 78′s and to write new chapters in the Anthology of American Music. Integrating sounds from Leadbelly to Bob Dylan, from Woodie Guthrie to Preservation Hall, Woody Pines belts out songs of fast cars, pretty women and hard luck with a distinctive vintage twang.


The Mar-Tan’s A 6-piece band founded by pianist/singer, Matt Wauchope. Featuring Grammy Award winning percussionist Count M’Butu, a killer horn section, and 4 singers, The Mar-Tans play a gritty, funky mix of New Orleans Jazz and Original Atlanta Soul Music.

Mar-Tans Small

Santa Claus is literally coming to town for this party.

Santa Doug


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