HOW ATLANTA IS SUPERIOR TO BOSTON:
By Ryan Scott.
#1. People Just Walk Up To You, and Offer You Drugs.
Um, its called " generosity." Jesus talked about it. When is the last time you offered up your stash to a total stranger? Ya, that's what I thought, you selfish pig. We were at a club in Atlanta. We had gone beyond drinking. At that point...we were DRANK-ing. Someone struck up a conversation with us, and within a couple of minutes said, " hey, my buddy is here and he sells drugs. You guys want some Ecstasy"? First of all.....yes. Yes I do. Second.......are you an angel from heaven in disguise? A recreational drug pushing, collard green eating angel, with a swampy southern accent?
PRAISE HIM!!!!
In Boston, people wont smile at you....forget an offering of illegal substances. Heres my theory. Drugs make everything better, especially when you get them unexpectedly. Its like winning the lottery. A lottery that makes you grind your teeth, and tongue kiss ugly people. You know when I say "ugly people"....I mean Haitians, right?
#2. They Know WHAT TIME IT IS!
How many times have you walked into a strip club, and been asked if you'd like to jump up on stage and make some money? Ya...thats what I thought. Ive been asked twice. I dont think that it means that Im any more attractive than any of you. I think it means I look whore-ish, and my moist, ultra inviting mouth says.... without saying...." you can rent this, for $20.00 a table dance, or $200.00 for 15 minutes in the champagne room. Champagne is French for " money paid for sexual services."
I also think it means I have a massive penis.
Shut up. You dont know.
You can only imagine how flattered I was, to be asked. I considered it for a hot second, but declined. If Im gonna take my clothes off for money, it will be at a FEMALE strip club. I want to rock my sweet tuck.... with full on waxed landing strip, electric blue glue on eyelashes, and I want to hold a black baby with a ciggy hanging out of my mouth, while doing it. Dont act like you wouldn't pay big bucks to see that.
Russ and I also found out about another club down there called The Clairemont. Its in the lobby, of an old, abandoned hotel.
That was all I needed to hear. I was in love, and ordered Russ to immediately Google that shit.
We found out that there was a stripper there, named Goldie. She is 65, does full on bent over beaver shots, and recently had been in a car accident, and continues to dance with a broken arm, and broken leg.
I went into convulsions. I loved The Clairemont...I loved Goldie..and my entire existence up to this point has been a huge farce. We also found out that they employ dancers who are pregnant, and who have mild mental retardation. If I found a dancer who was both pregnancy AND retardancy...I would immediately book a cruise, lure Russ onto the deck after a romantic dinner, hurl him off the side, run back to the Clairemont, and marry that amazing temptress. Sadly, we never made it there. Our time was too limited. We will return, and until then...I will dream of The Clairemont....of Goldie.....and my future wife. I hope she goes by the name...."Pineapple".
#3. Drag!!!!!
You haven't seen a hot drag bitch, until you've been down in the dirty dirty. Those trannies dont play!
I LOVE ME SOME DRAG!!!!!! I do. I fucking love it. If you dont love drag queens, then you're a colostomy bag. They had a drag show down there, and oh my god. I couldnt take it. I was ripping my eyebrows off. Each one that came on, got me more worked up. Finally....they had these three take the stage. I think they were doing a live recording of Patti LaBelle, or Aretha Franklin. There was a main drag diva, and her two back ups. As the song went on, those girls were flashing panties, laying on the ground, climbing up a stair case and sliding down the banister, jumping on the bar and ripping off wigs.
I couldnt.
I couldnt take it.
I started punching the person closest to me, right in the face.
" ITS TOO GOOD!!!! I CANT TAKE IT!!!!"
I was laughing, crying, and scratching my face off. Who just got worked over? I think you're looking at him. The one with no skin left on his face. And he wants 3 more hours of it!
Oh, Hotlanta. I know that you have so much more to offer besides drugs, strippers, and drag queens.....but thats all I care about, in life. If you can supply those things, then you have my vote.
Oh......And the grits aint bad, either.
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