Mom and I went to the famous High Museum in downtown Atlanta yesterday. It was mom’s first trip off the campus of the rehab facility. She doing better but she is still a ways off from returning home. I was hoping that a trip around Atlanta would pick up her spirits and her motivation get back to living her life (no T.I./Rihanna song).
Incidentally, I am loving this T-Pain song ‘Blame It On The Alcohol’ for all the wrong reasons. T-Pain is an evil genius songwriter that should be using his power to bring water to Africa. Instead his is a pitchman for Patron.
The High Museum is a magnificent piece of architecture. The building itself is engaging and interactive. There are plenty of rooms to zone out in and there is also a ton on natural light being filtered through the spaces. When you observe shit through natural sunlight you get to register the added depth of some works.
My mom had been reading about the exhibit featuring China’s first emperor. This dude was an incredible leader. He conscripted hundreds of thousands of people to erect and unify the northern walls of China. The emperor also had his subjects build an enormous underground burial complex with a total area of 23 square miles. Inside were terracotta statues of his army, infantry and cavalry. Two thousand statues.
Not coincidentally, but all this stuff was made over two thousand years ago in something 200 B.C. The Chinese were experts as mass producing shit from way back. This is why they have this manufacturing shit on lock. They had their industrial revolution two thousand years before the rest of the planet.
My mom saw some red earrings that she liked which featured Chinese symbols for health on a coral tablet. I had the money to copp them thanks to the prA’li movement. Y’all em-effs are dope like that. I will be making a video with mom dukes introducing her to y’all. I took her back to the facility just in time for her to get down with the dinner they had prepared. Shit had shrimp on it. Dukes was happy. She knew she won today.
Later on I went back to the museum for a Valentine’s Day party they were hosting. It was something like my favorite museum’s 1st Saturday party except Brooklyn Museum of Art has never had $5 Alize specials. I went in pretty hard on the ‘Ze. In a little while I was joined by ANGELA from ProperTalks and MARC from The Winner Circles.
Check both of those sites out like now!
The night was young by the time the museum let out so we decided to keep the party rocking by hitting up some spots in the area. The first joint was the 5-Spot in Little 5 Points. MARC surveyed the party and came back out letting us know that is wasn’t worth our time to go inside. We motored to the next spot and parked our cars. ANGELA is such a lady and she decided that it was time to return to her husband before she got CHRIS BROWN’d on Valentine’s Day.
ANGELA was smart too. She wasn’t ready to witness the debauchery that MARC and I were about to get into. Er, MARC was about to get into I meant to say. Dude has one of those imperial swaggers where he knows everyone and no one can tell him nothing. The name of the second party was Sloppy Seconds and that is all I needed to know in the first place.
We slipped into the joint through the back door. The V.I.P. entrance actually. The spot is like a sick trance rave party where all the party goers have pre-gamed their night with something more hardbody than the kush that MARC had sparked for me earlier. These debutantes and prom queens were on coke and E for sure. They stumbled up to the doorman in their new high heels which made these chicks actually higher than they needed to be.
It was a wild scene up in this party. This dude stumbles up the ramp leading into the man dance space and just pukes his face off. MARC and I are already high so you can imagine that we are tickled pink by this. I walk over to the vomit and inspect it. I point out the chunk that I imagine to be the piece of chicken. Hilarity ensues. MARC is a dark individual like myself and we both realize the joy we will have when we witness someone slip on the puke. MARC calls this the “vomit slide”.
Tons of chicks are coming into the party. Ridiculous broads with stripper bodies. This spot is definitely the cokehead jumpoff. Chicks are wearing literally nothing but their stilettos. MARC meets a few of the friendlier chicks. His new name will have to be David CoppaFeel’d. As the party’s intensity and crowd is ratcheted up another level MARC runs into a concert and party promoter who throws him a blunt just because. At the very second after I give the promoter dude my last business card we all watch this chick in a tiny little skirt slip on the throwup.
I lose my shit.
I got so high in Atlanta.
