We then head down to the Riverfront which is made up of galleries, terrible touristy shops, and restaurants serving fried fish and fried fish. I went into an art gallery at one point and wanted to take a picture of the gallery itself. Most galleries, in NYC and Philadelphia, allow you to take pictures as long as you do not take dead on shots of the art in true form. Well I didn't even get my camera to my face before Ms. Southern Super Bitch was yelling at me that no cameras were allowed. I politely apologized and explained I did not get a shot and I was not aware of the rule. Ten minutes later, after returning to the counter to find more information on one particular artist, Super Bitch informed me that there was a sign on the wall that said "NO Cameras." I apologized again and then one more time for not seeing the sign. She insisted on telling me again, that there was a sign. I was so annoyed at this time I proceeded to leave before I got all sorts of Yankee on her ass. As I am walking out she is now yelling at me telling me that "that is a really nice camera you got there, beautiful in fact." Like fuck you lady, get over yourself. Anyway, I did not buy any art. And she sucked.
After leaving the tourist trap we headed over to Forsyth Park to get our tans and drink on. This is where it was at. People were everywhere...children and their parents, dogs and their parents, homeless people and their drugs, inbred dudes and their beer bongs. We fit right in. Bloody Marys were much needed. We spent most of our time desperately searching somewhere we could eat. Task was super hard.
We decided on a quick and cheap sushi restuarant for dinner. Shit was terrible. Danielle and I ordered enough food for ourselves, the nineteen homeless people from the park, Dick, and Dicks motha. We had no idea that a $3 order of veggie tempura would leave us with a full platter of food, nor did we realize that by six pieces to a roll actually meant eight. Bill was like $20 total. No wonder why everyone in Savannah is overweight, if it was that cheap to eat here in Philadelphia, I would be the next fattest thing to the Wilson Phillips sister.
While at the coffee shop that morning we were informed of a huge music benefit going on downtown. It was actually really nice to hear that the community was doing this for a local musician who was shot in the neck on his way home from a gig one night. Of course we had to go. We headed to the Marketplace to be pleasantly surprised by the drunkest man in the universe and the super talented General Oglethorpe and the Panhandlers.
After checking out the schedule of bands and set times we saw that the Social Club was where most of the shit was going down. And since trendy Kayak Kafe waitress told us that was the spot, we decided to head on over.
What we witnessed in this bar deserves an entire blog to itself. I will sum it up. Paraplegic helmets worn by perfectly drunk non-paraplegic people accompanied by ski googles, all in the attempt to save them from bumping their head when they fall off their bike. Yep. And the dude with a tool belt full of hot sauces. Oh wait, and the cute guy, FINALLY, I start talking to insists on informing me that his chickens sleep in his bed. And he knows when his chicken has fertilized eggs because he catches them screwing, and his dog really likes it too. And then, there were prom dresses, lots of them. Some held together by safety pins, some not so held together at all. Some barely visable through the endless stomach of rolls. Fuck we needed to get outta this place. The vodka finally set in and I felt like I just ate 3 quaters of mushrooms. I couldn't stop laughing.
So after the third prom party rolled in we called it quits and headed back to McDonoughs Pub to lay low key for the rest of the night. Welp, we were wrong yet again. First, I was ruffied by the typical Without a Trace raper/murderer. Thankfully the bartender was kind enough to give me a new drink even though Fran offered to take care of me like a good husband would do. Second, it was karaoke. In the south. In the middle of SCAD's campus. This should say it all, but I think the next serious of videos will do.
This is all happening as I am getting ruffied. I am so lucky.
Take notice of my incredible back up dancing Please enjoy the screening of, "It's a Wonderful Nerd"
Sometime around 1 am we met some real honky tonkers out smoking cigs. They offered to take us bull riding, yes right then, but we had to go for a ride. I had learned enough already in two days in Savannah to know that it was absolutley positively not a good idea to get in the car with anyone who was offering to show me any sort of bull or do any which way of riding. Fuck that. Fran woulda went if Fran's Fran in 40 years wasn't dancing inside with her new best friend straight off of the Love Boat.
Fran in 40 years
Fran raps for the locals who offer to take us bull riding
After engaging in an argument, yes it always seems to happen to me, with some poorly dressed SCAD student we decided to call it a night. Thank.you.baby.Jesus.
Had enough? Cause there sure to shit is more....
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