Are you interested in participating in a gnome march this weekend? Would you be even more interested if it was a world-record breaking gnome march?? Jenn points to this Facebook post…
Gnomies! The bloody Brits have the record now at 478 gnomes! Damn! Last year we had 239. Are we going to give up? Never! Why do we throw our pointy red hats in the ring year after year? Because it is ridiculously fun and we are silly people!
SO, bring two friends and let’s git ’em! We are in cahoots with the Euclid Avenue Yacht Club and marching in the Inman Park Festival Parade, as always!
To be counted, you need: a pointy RED hat, American working class garden gnome attire (ie. overalls), and a sign expressing your pet gnome issue. Popular issues with gnomes are gnomophobia, dandelion genocide, and the legalization of weeds, etc.
Please be sure to sign in, get your individual gnome portrait taken, and stay for the group photo at the finish of the parade!
We will adjourn to the Euclid Avenue Yacht Club afterwards for our victory celebration!
Atlanta Magazine writes on its blog that Decatur CD’s annual April Fools joke put one over on about 75% of the people who read it.
Publicized in its newsletter and on its blog, Decatur CD explained that they were getting rid of all of their CDs, building a “swanky vinyl room” and transitioning to a shop that sells downloads instead of tactile music mediums.
I posted it with a ;-), because I’ll never forget the year they put one over on me, when they reported they were expanding into the Terra Mater space and turning the shop into a pub. Scared for life!
Alright, so DM isn’t technically a message board, but our comments section sure comes close! (As any half-decent hyper-local blog should.)
So I thought you might all get a kick out of this recent list from Atlantic Cities detailing “The 20 Characters You’ll Meet on Every Neighborhood Message Board”. Not every single one applies – e.g. we don’t have any #18s (Reply All Guys) or #20s (Accidental Reply All Ladies), since there’s no reply all function on DM. But I’m sure you’ll notice as you go down the list, there will be more than one…or five…occasions when you’ll say to yourself…”That’s totally…so-and-so.”
So which are you?
I’ll post the 20 names for the characters below, but you’ll have to click over to Atlantic Cities to read the excellent and often hilarious descriptions. (Sorry, I still like to show my fellow blogs some link love.)
1. The moderator.
2. The comic.
3. The loose cannon.
4. The longtime resident.
5. The doubter.
6. The local business owner who is tasteful with his advertising.
I received this letter via a guy on a horse from a group calling themselves “The Bell-Bottomed Windbags” this morning (OK, I actually made that up)
Esteemed Decatur residents, In an effort to remain the most progressive-thinking (and looking) city in all of Georgia, it has been determined that more must be done to take greater inspiration from the 1890s. The attached Portlandia video barely scratches the surface of 1890s life and style. We’re all going to need to go beyond the micro-brews, locally made sausage and the occasional curly mustache to really turn Decatur into the 1890s freak-show that will make it a world-class destination for bobos and discontented hipsters alike.
Please put on your thinking-caps and let us know what else Decatur can be doing to turn back the clock to the Grover Cleveland era. All ideas will be compiled and then screamed at the front doors of Decatur City Hall at our convenience. You’ll recognize us all by our awesome beards, knitted dresses, and suspenders. Thank you for your time.
The Bell-Bottomed Windbags
My first suggestion: un-pave the streets. I’ll do my part and turn Decatur Metro into an old-timey newspaper and hire some newsies. “Extree extree!!”
Decatur has given us so much this year. Growlers, sharrows, street trees, new and rebuilt restaurants, Sunday sales, the second-coming of Eddie Owen.
Now it’s time to give back. What would you like to give Decatur this holiday season?
Personally, I’m thinking a giant box (sorta like this one) filled with bricks, mortar, a few stone masons and a jack-hammer that will be placed outside David Junger’s home. One chilly morning he will be awoken to the muffled sounds of the stone masons, yelling to be released from their cardboard confines.
When he runs outside to open it, he’ll be thrilled to see that he can now immediately replace all the city’s crumbling faux-brick crosswalks with the real deal.