Are we there yet?

Ya' know that point where you're so exhausted that you start hallucinating and everything seems to be on the verge of some grand punch-line? I believe the medical term for it is "slap happy." Yeah, that would be me right about now.

Child Neglect
So, I've been going full throttle and working on so many different projects at once. With me, it truly is feast or famine and right now my fat ass is all up on the buffet. First, my baby, my pride and joy of all the events I've ever put on -- IMpulse. There are just so many things that need to be worked out in the next five days. It's going to be fucking huge, this much is true; I'm just thinking I don't have enough time in the day to devote to it.

The Cut
Then, there's dealing with the Studio 54 performances. I think everyone got the message to figure it out on their own when I sorta snapped yesterday. It was something along the lines of "if she can't get her ass to one rehearsal then find someone that can." Hence, let's welcome Summer K. Night to the disco party of the year. Genre, if you're reading this -- I'm really sorry for being so short.

Return to Sender
Now, the new gig. Buzz Atlanta is on the streets right now. Hell, Richie was allegedly walking from table to table at Cowtipper's giving it to boys he thought were cute. Oh, that Richie, he's such a character. I'm so glad I don't have to live with him anymore. So, yeah, the delivery company was supposed to drop off all 65 boxes at Bobby's bar, but whoops some jackass in the Florida office marked Bobby's bar as a residential address. So, guess what? Yup, a field trip out to umm, yeah, an hour away in rush hour traffic. (see: brain dead)

You Must be 21 and Up to Enter
We got back to the city and split the chores of distribution. Why did I have all the porn stores and video booths? I also discovered that there's a fraction of gay men that go from one to the other and back again. I had inadvertently gotten myself on this little loop and got some "come hither" looks from some of these gentlemen. Yeah, that's really special, ain't it?

Other than these little beginning hiccups, I like the gig. There are some things I don't like, but I guess it gets better with time or until I get pissed off enough to cuss everyone out and call it what? A day. Trust, it won't be the first time I make that exit from where I worked. I've become pretty efficient at it too. It's easiest to skip over the piss ants and go straight to the source of your headache. Just another friendly tip from me to you.

Hints, Allegations and Things Left Unsaid
I also promised to never mention a certain someone on this blog ever again. I've been censored -- on my own blog. That's really funny on so many different levels. That should say something about the nobody I'm not talking about.

**(Update: This shouldn't be a problem from here on forward.)

For Promotional Use Only
All right, so my last bitch and complaint of the day. I made this kick ass CD for a friend of a friend with "black girls" on it. Yeah, you figure it out. So, utilizing my pretty impressive collection of MP3's I made a 17 track compilation of some of the best R&B, hip-hop soul, hip-hop, jazz and remixes of said genres. It had some Deborah Cox, Goapele, Etta James, Angie Stone, Diana Ross, Bassment Jaxx and various other "black girls" on it. It kicked ass, hell, I even put the bitch in order from oldest to most recent in sort of a timeline sequence.

Lactose Intolerant
Why is that bastard asking me for a second CD? I was gagged. Let's say I make him a second one. Just by the magnificence of the first one, the second one is going to suck and pale in comparison. What I had created was true art, bouncing and transitioning effortlessly between decades and styles all with critical acclaim and/or popularity status, but not overkilled popularity.

Oh no, you won't find any Velveeta in this batch. Even the Deborah Cox selection was her "House Is Not A Home (The Mixshow Edit)" release. No ma'am, you won't find any "Absolutely Not" or fucked up circuit anthem on this exquisite collection.

You want a second CD, go to Napster ya' asshole.

How's that? From slap-happy to bitch-slap pissed in no time flat. Damn, I've got skills to multi-task.

04.05.06

And, it's crunch time, kids. We had our production meeting today at Brandon's super-apartment. The place gives me the creeps; I'm convinced they used to hang slaves in there. Eerie.

At any rate, we've teamed up Genre and Xdrenaline in the night's first performance in Ride. This is going to be really interesting considering they're two of the most creative entertainers in this city -- past, present and future. It's true.

We were having some issue placing Jade Daniels, but I think we've got it figured out. Nicole and Phoenix, well I wasn't too worried about them -- I think they're pulling some kind of stunt. That leaves the Dancing Diva, and folks this is going to be the stunt of the year if we can pull it off.

I'm excited as hell and we're still coming up with little nuances for our reunion. Oh, and the free shit? There's gonna be a ton of it.

Correction...

Genre was officially the first person to wish me a happy birthday. Genre and I were at Blake's on Friday and shortly after midnight, she wished me a happy birthday. So, Genre cares, she really does. I love her; she had on army pants and flip-flops.

So far, So good

I'm starting out my 30's properly. Lunch with Shawnna, then a bit of shopping and maybe some home improvement. Maybe we'll 86 that last one and replace it with a nap.

Go Shoh-tee, It's Ya' Birt-day...

So, it's my birthday. And, to be quite honest, 29B isn't any different than 29A, which I celebrated in 2005.

Shawnna was the first one to officially wish me a happy birthday. Sure, other people e-mailed and posted on Myspace and Friendster, but she was the first to call and say it. Yes, there is a difference. Bobby called, then my mommy (yes, I still call her that), and NPB as well as my little brother and sister-in-law. It's one o'clock now, sixty minutes into my 30th, err 29Bth birthday and still no word from CC. Fucker.

That birthday present better be super right. I'm just saying.

Hmm, 30 (yeah, I fucking said it, what bitches? what?!?), new job, new apartment, possibly a new love interest if the birthday present ain't sickening. Maybe, just maybe this isn't so bad. More on this later.

For now, it IS my birthday and I will be partying the house down with the family tonight.

The More Things Change....

The more they're fucked. Just kidding, well sorta.

I got a phone call from a dear friend yesterday asking to confirm a rumor she had just heard.

"Yeah, it's true, girl."

"I'm involved, it's pretty nice and yes, I have to put the smack down on your paycheck," I said without the slightest trace of sarcasm. Which, for me, happens to be quite an accomplishment.

So, here we go again. A new magazine is coming into town. Yes, I was approached to head up its Atlanta editorial. Yes, I will be helping the sales staff nab clients. And, yes I'm going after nightlife -- the one true thing I know and know well.

My work is definitely cut out for me, the first issue drops in 9 days.

Geez, this feels like when I left DA to start Otherwise, which sold out to HOTspots. And it also feels like the time I left HOTspots, watched it crumble and went back to work for DA. Things seem to have the habit of falling apart when I leave.

The more things change, the more they're fucked. Or, something like that.

Back Once Again With the Ill Behavior

I fucking love spring. I really, truly love it. Today was the first day I got to slow down for a few hours and enjoy the company of good friends and hard liquor, springtime in the Gay-T-L (boys just love the first day they can show some skin during the day) and slowly reveal what has been keeping me unavailable for consultation.

One of my all-time favorite “projects” (lord knows I’ve worked on quite a few) will always be those five months at Compound in 2004. It was during this project when I was feeling ten foot tall and bulletproof. We truly had a good thing going, not to mention some of my most favorite people in the world were working with me each Wednesday.

Long story short, due to scheduling and contract conflicts, the night known as IMpulse went away.

04.05.06
Fast forward two years and we’re coming back for a reunion. And this shit is going to be incredible. Yeah, we brought in Shawnna on a Hummer twice. Sure, we had every major entertainer in this city roll up in there and perform the house down, but this time it’s going to be a little different. Trust me when I say that some shit is about to go down.

Can ya' keep a secret?
The other project is super secret ninja, FBI, KGB type shit, but it’s something else that’s gonna rock Gay-T-L to the core. If I can pull this one off, then a lot of people are going to respectively be extremely happy, really pissed off or completely confused. That’s all I got on it for now. It’s gonna be hot though, I’m just saying.

Damn, I fucking love spring.