Taste the Rainbow 

The weekend of June 24-26 appeared on the calendar as any other Friday-Sunday. But for those out and about in Atlanta and Athens, it quickly became apparent that it was one of the most phalli-centric weekends since the beginning of recorded history!

Just review this list of converging events: AthFest, with a headlining performance by Pylon; Atlanta Pride 2005; Corndogorama; the Nathan's Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest; and the opening of IKEA, where they offer Swedish meatballs.

It was like the gods of cock stared down from atop statuesque pillars, waved their realistic vein-chiseled staves and declared that for one weekend, Georgia would play host to the most opportunities to make meat-in-mouth jokes since a Republican convention.

So, anyway, you didn't even have to take an informal pole … um ... poll to figure out the June weekend in question offered some meaty entertainment. Now let's recap what was the most appropriate weekend ever for this writer to tell people I couldn't wait till I could show them my "column":

I spent much of Friday night in the streets of Athens, literally, at an outdoor stage where a reunited Pylon presented a spartan, sloppy set of gyrating post-punk that unfurled from shrieking to spastic. It wasn't the piercing, thrusting nature of the music that best made it fit in to "Weiner Weekend," however. No, it was because the crowd was dotted with pink balloons emblazoned with the word "Pylon," and an angular, black logo that looked like a Futurist take on a butt plug. Oh, and I saw Stomp and Stammer's Jeff Clark and Chunklet's Henry Owings in the crowd - insert your own cock jokes here.

Also playing at showcases were bands of the new Athens math-rock wave including Teenage Meth Lab, We vs. the Shark, and Maserati, among others. But why bother when it was also possible to catch both Teenage Meth Lab and Maserati with a mouthful of processed meat at the annual Corndogorama celebrating local music at the Earl.

Meanwhile, reports from all around corroborated that the yearly extravagance of competing Pride promoters looking to make a million with big-name DJs spinning to gorgeous boys in gorgeous locations ended up instead thinning everyone's profits. From the Fox Theatre to heavily touted loft parties, no Friday event reigned supreme - unless you count 5 a.m. Saturday morning as Friday. As part of the ATLDraft circuit of parties, local up-and-coming DJ VanCronkhite spun at Club X, and his dark, tribal, Danny Tenaglia-influenced style won over the venue rammed with leather boys, cowboys, glowstick-'em-up kids and Southeastern country stranglers in town to get a, well, taste of that big city life. Sadly, the percentage of military garb was rather negligible for such a deliciously stereotypical themed party. Watching the general delirium of the diverse freaks on display throughout Club X and also Saturday night enjoying DJ Abel at the Woodruff Arts Center (Pride's undisputed success) certainly reinforced the notion that Backstreet is missed. The barely contained intensity shown across the weekend seemed to be less back when you could go out of your mind any night of the week during Atlanta's 24-hour clubbing heyday.

While some people were using Saturday to recover from the after-parties, others were flocking to a preview party at IKEA, which is sure to totally eclipse the Caroline Street/Moreland Avenue Target as the see-and-be-scene retail outlet. Everyone who is anyone will soon own Scandinavian modular shelving to display their accessories as they preside over pre-clubbing cocktail hours. The store couldn't be primed at a better time than Pride weekend. Local soothsayer Steve (as in Steve's Words of Warning) said it best: "After it opens, IKEA will be where all the circuit parties happen from this point forward. Like a gay mecca."

Any why not? IKEA offers an intoxicatingly coordinated setting, lots of buffed wood. And let me say it again: Hmmm, meatballs.

Even after all the clubbing of Friday and Saturday wound down, there was still time for disco biscuits. And while "disco biscuits" may mean Ecstasy pills to some, on misty Sunday afternoon it meant biscuits of the fluffy, flying sort to me. Heading down to the Pride epicenter of 10th and Piedmont - or what some might call the buried treasure at the end of the rainbow - I dined at the Flying Biscuit while listening to "The Hustle." After wading through the preening and prancing beefcake I ran in to Floataway Café's impeccable pastry chef Rory Moon on the way to Piedmont Park (where musical acts including the Indigo Girls performed for free all weekend). And in the park a frozen banana covered in nuts almost rivaled the corndog as the weekend's kinky snack. It was a weekend packed with meating and greeting no matter what - or who - you were into.

A frozen banana covered in nuts rivaled the corndog as the weekend's kinky snack.

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