House of Pain

Unreal gets sweaty with the World's Strongest Man and talks with an expert in yoga for dogs. And, uh, note to City Hall: Restock the TP.

What really chafes McGrath's rear is that, in his view, the receptionist's response is emblematic of how city hall functions: i.e., no one gives a shit.

"You ask anyone there to do something and it's never their job," he fumes. "If the mayor's office isn't concerned about conditions at city hall, then who is? The mayor was probably off cutting a ribbon somewhere."

Come to think of it, notes McGrath, a slice of ribbon would have worked — anything in a pinch. Having waited several minutes without help arriving, McGrath says, he pulled his pants up around his knees and shimmied to the next stall, where he discovered not one but two rolls of toilet paper.

"I'm just lucky no one came in while I was waddling," a relieved McGrath says. "They probably would have arrested me for indecent exposure!"

Ever get the urge to jump up and ____ this damn town? Tell Unreal about it!
unreal@riverfronttimes.com.



Local Blog O’ the Week “Tell You What...”
tell-you-what.blogspot.com
Author: Judakris
About the blogger:
“Two professional 30-something chicks who won’t be giving up their love of music anytime soon.”
Recent Highlight (July 7):Whenever I go home to Huntsville I have to brace myself to face the ghosts of failed romances and friendships. You may not be able to imagine that so much life can happen in a relatively small southern city, but it can. The lack of city activities fosters strong relationships and friendships. You get used to lazing around at people’s houses and get to know their families. It’s the most beautiful thing in the world, but you only realize the beauty in something when you no longer have it, don’t you?

When I go back now, I remember all the good and bad living I did, but there is one particular person that is present in almost every one of those memories, T. A 1998 wake was the setting of our first hook-up, so we joke. We held hands after paying our respects and that’s when it started. Maybe this was an omen, but we didn’t look at it in that way. We looked at it as two lost souls finding love via one of the most brutally honest events one can experience.

The next several years consisted of me telling him where to go, casual hook-ups, reconciliations, earth-shattering break-ups, him telling me where to go, casual hook-ups, reconciliations, and on and on. Despite the ups and downs, we were nothing but true to each other. Actually, we weren’t always faithful, but we never pretended to be anything but our true selves with each other. One of the things that we were true to each other about was the fact that we were both seriously music-obsessed. Together we spent a lot of time listening to music and talking about it. There is one band, however, whose music embodies our entire 8-year pathetic, yet exquisite on and off again relationship: U2.

Know of an Unreal-worthy local blog? Send the URL to unreal@riverfronttimes.com.

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