The Nitrous in your alarm clock 

Dragon*Con and divin' at the Dumpster

For many, Labor Day weekend is a three-day smorgasbord of kickball, drive-ins, watermelon and mai tais. But if I'm going to keep people outta their chairs and going outta their minds, I can't dally. Baked beans? Only if you're wrestling in them. Just 5 percent alcohol? Only if she's 5'3".

I'm on a full-blown binge to bring sexy back. So what was I doing Downtown for the annual Dragon*Con costume contest? My God, even the most camp drag queens would blush at this menagerie of poor judgment. Seriously, where's the quality control? Where's the draaaaama? Slap on a dirty Sanchez and you're Super Mario. Dress as a dancing hippo and you're a metaphor for much of what goes down around you. Dear Jedi: We get it -- you spend primo private time acrobatically handling your "light saber." And your "Wookies."

OK, easy targets disengaged, because my visiting pal the Reverend John Ling explained how it's not the contestants' fault. They are but mere shells, inside of which gestate telepathic radioactive spiders that are just having a laugh until they break forth and devour their unwilling hosts. That I can buy.

Actually, I realize while watching this spectacle that it's a prime casting pool for my acquaintance J. Gaybel. Over much beer and BBQ he introduced to me his proposed venture: porn featuring socially awkward men who weep alone while they masturbate. He's going to call it Tearjerkers. Interested participants can e-mail, but only if you're the real deal -- no wiping onion juice on your jimmy. Hee-hee. Tearjerkers. I'm gonna laugh about that for years to ... come. Or maybe it's just heatstroke. I admit it. I dallied.

Mistakenly, I figured being indoors would cool things off. But I found no such luck at the Earl on Sun., Sept. 3, during the sweat-beaded Dumpsterdive Records One-Year Anniversary. Dropping it like the hotness were local Arc the Finger Records artists Intellekt & Dirty Digits, among many others. Repping for those of us 5'7" and funkdafied, the IDD duo kicked out its jazzy ADD Intellektual Property, revising topics such as gettin' your game on (but with Mario Kart) and "Phenom Mental" lyrical performance. ATL "true schoolers" can stuff backpacks tight with new tunes this season.

On a final note, it's my birthday week! I originally intended a private celebration but have changed it to semi-public. If you visit Bazzaar on Sat., Sept. 9, you can party with me, the Midnight Mayor of Midtown, but only if you're wearing a fake mustache. No, seriously. I want things to get hairy. That's how I bring sexy back.

RedEye celebrates going out and going off. Send comments to, but hand-scrawled hate mail is preferred.



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