Redeye - Going nuts and Golden Balls ... July 12 2006

While my more optimistic friends actively lobby for “Funday,” a government-appointed day wedged between Sunday and Monday, I’m making due with the seven I’ve been dealt. But that doesn’t mean there can’t be fun, especially Sun., July 9, when revelers clogged the motorways and would-be superheroes took main stage.

It’s summer blockbuster season, or as my brosef calls it, “The Running of the Bullshit!” Everyone competes for my entertainment dollar, and I’ll admit that I contributed to Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s (Hairy) Chest’s “pillaging” box office opening weekend records. I’m disappointed, however, that International Talk Like a Pirate Day isn’t until Sept. 19 and no local promoters organized any pirate parties. Nightlife is undeniably about thieving “booty,” anyway. Plus, I partially blame Johnny Depp for the portentous cunts (including some Georgia chumps) on this season of CBS’ “Rock Star: Supernova.” Depp makes cool seem so effortless, pricks think a wrought-iron crucifix is religious and fashion savior. A summer blockbuster Tommy Lee’s “Rock Star: Supernova” is not.

My personal blockbuster comes via the throngs for the World Cup, which sadly ended on Sunday. To celebrate, we drank Pinot Noir (in honor of the Franch) and Pinot Gris (for the I-tal-yans). About an hour later, I was on North Highland where I saw Italian flags streaming from little European clown cars honking and hooting along. I wish the tournament was year-round; not only is World Cup football the beautifullest game, and French captain Zidane’s 110th-minute head butt rivals any would-be rock star’s moves, but see-how-they-handled-their-balls jokes are gonna be harder to work into daily public conversation. I did, however, learn the value of faking a foul. I’m going to practice diving in, well, dive bars to score free whiskey.

Red card aside, Golden Ball-winning Zidane’s a great on the football pitch, and a good afternoon show. I capped the night, however, with an ATL legend: Danger Woman (opening for Neil Hamburger at the Drunken Unicorn). An avatar of the savant-garde movement, disabled but able to rock, Danger Woman — aka Ms. Marvel — celebrates the diversity within with ... superhero-obsessed glassy-eyed karaoke, and has been doing so as long as my alcohol-ravaged memory can reach. A Dragon*Con mainstay, Danger Woman warbles her own wandering G-rated lyrics to such jams as “Colors of the Wind” (from Pocahontas). If you crave deadpan humor, catch this little chickadee’s show whenever possible, or support her at www.cafepress.com/DangerWoman, because the first person spotted clubbing in a “Songbird of Justice” shirt I will publicly designate Rock Star Supreme.

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