shades of motherfuckin' Greeeeeey!

I have a confession to make: When I go to guesshermuff.blogspot.com, I don’t even guess. Never. I just look at the picture, and then click on the little “here” to see the reveal shot. My favorite reveals are the ones where they’re obviously wasted. It’s funny. Am I misusing the internet? It’s possible, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to hazard a guess, and I suppose I’m just gonna have to accept that. Wow. I feel better now. Thanks for listening, Dongs of War. Much appreesh.
As I hinted yesterday, I’ve been to some gross places on tour but this one place in Omaha was by far the most disgusting place I’ve ever been. First, we played at a place called the cog factory. This was a club that had been around for a really long time. Slapstick (my ooooooold band) played there in 94 on our tour with 7 seconds and skankin pickle. Back then, it was pretty okay. Well, it was a dumpy shitbox, but it was fine. It had a kitchen, four walls, ceiling, power, light rig, bathrooms…you know, typical shitty punk rock no booze club. Every time we went back however, it got a little worse.
This is currently happening in Atlanta. The first time we played the Masquerade in Atlanta it was a BEAUTIFUL club. That was on the first Plea for Peace tour. Yeah, it was old, but it was well maintained and super fun AND there was a porn star there, but that’s a whole other story. Anyhoo, since then, for reasons too boring to go into, it’s steadily declined into one of the shittiest Hepatitis farms in the country. The walls sag, the smell is that of poo. The toilets are always flooded. The ground is sticky and the back stage looks like it’s never been cleaned. I think it’s still an okay place to SEE a show, but when you’re on tour and your options for shitting are pretty much what you can run to when the bus/van pulls up, I can say with authority that the Masquerade is no one’s favorite place to play. Of course it’s right around the corner from an amazing (and famous) strip club where the fat and the old dance naked and crush beercans betwixt their big saggy old tits and drinks are cheap and everything is wonderful. It’s called the Clermont, and it’s in the basement of a really, really nice hotel. Heh. The Clermont alone makes the Masquerade great, actually.
Anyway, we were talking about the Cog Factory in Omaha (just down the street from where my friend Leeann gave that crackhead ten bucks to video tape him trying to suck his own wang…I wrote about it in one of the earlier entries [back when BSC was still black and white]) and it’s demise. By the last time we played there, everything was done. The water was turned off, the power was on again-off again and the bathroom…well, man. It was a mountain. Of poo. It was SOOOOOOOOOOOO nasty. There was a toilet, right there, where toilets should be, in the bathroom, and people had been shitting in it, just like you’re supposed to, but HERE’S the bad part. No water. No water= no flushing. But, this deterred NO ONE. SO, people kept dumping and dumping and eventually the mountain of poos crested the seat, and still people kept shitting on it. When I saw it (I peeked in on a dare and almost barfed after half a second) I think it was safe to say that it rose, not unlike Kilimanjaro above the Serengeti, mind you, a good five inches above the rim of the seat. Gross. I mean, seriously? Who’s squatting, balanced on the seat, going through all that effort to shit onto this pile? What kind of depraved, sick, horrendously twisted…jesus Christ. You get the idea, right? It was gross. And of course, it stunk up the whole fucking place. Oh, but that’s not the grossest place. The grossest place was the house we went to party at after the show.
The kitchen was full of black garbage bags. I would say there were literally twelve of them, and an animal had eaten through a few of them and strewn shit everywhere. On the counters were food items that had long ceased to be recognizable crusted and molded into casserole dishes and onto plates and forks. Large black flies swarmed. The whole place smelled bad, and I definitely didn’t go anywhere else in the house but the living room and the kitchen. AND, I only went to the kitchen to escape the living room, which had, and I’m not shitting you people here, one of those plastic yellow mop buckets on wheels that janitors use filled with water and another mountain of shit, but in THIS one, someone bad had been putting their cigarettes out in the poos. Man. They said we could stay there, but we decided to risk it elsewhere.
Once in Soux Falls, these people invited us to trash this house they’d been evicted from. We were literally having a party while smashing windows, pulling up carpet, destroying built in shelving and someone lit a couch on fire, but when our buddy brian started peeing in the corner, the guy who’s house it was got super pissed and started wigging out. “Come on, dude! What the fuck are you doing?” Guess you gotta have standards, right?

Okay, happy Friday everyone. You know how it is on Fridays, and I’m out of here. Work’s gonna suck the dick off a dog, and I got a show tomorrow at Reggies. See you there, Sock Drawer!