Monday, February 8, 2010

The Shelter

I thought it was a homeless shelter at first... Then I realized it was one when I walked in on opening night. The specimens in here were bedazzling. I think I lost vision for a bit... Or mebbe it was the large amount of vodka I consumed. Who knows... Someone point me to the soup line, STAT. And where are the fwee flannel winter jackets? That pig, Paula Dean, stuffing her fat face with all that ham and I get nothing. Thanks, sow. I kid, I kid...

This "speak-esque" diva bar is hidden in a building behind Vita (you know, the black gay club, but not Bulldogs), go through a door and up the stairs... Voila, you're here. Wow. Yay. Poop... But at least the dwinks were cheap and they had Ms. Pac Man.

The space is simple with graffiti art and a bunch of knick knacks. There's a dance cage or mebbe it was a place to cure meat... And a coin-operated horsey ride (make sure you wipe it down like at the gym bc I may have cooties). Can't really tell who it caters to (straight, gay, bi, tri, quad) but it seemed like everyone got along like Rodney King.

For a split second there, I got slap happy and thought Yelp's very own David K. was there... But to my dismay, it was some lesbo who had the same hairdo with it's back to me. Oh well, I'm sure he'll make his way over there at some point. Just don't hold your breath looking for me there, pal. I do like the joint but it's like 10 years too little, too late... Or mebbe I'm just an old hag.

Come to think of it, you know what, this reminds me of all the after hour parties I went to til 7AM back in the days and that was during the week nights. After all that boozing... I thought it was 2001.

I call this shack, Lady Liberty...

"Give me your tired, your poor, your smelly huddled masses yearning to dwink cheap, the wretched refuse of your torn up shoe. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to this hole, I lift my skirt and pee beside the golden(shower) door."

Jesus Hosea...

Burp.

2101 Tula Street
Atlanta, GA 30309
(678) 694-7435

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