Tuesday, November 24, 2009

this one goes out to my one true love, Tbaby

Now my ads are gone. I don’t know what happened. It’s like I offended the gods of revenue or something. My magic search engine is still here, but where are all the fucking TJ maxx ads? That’s what I want to know. My revenue stream is trickling to a halt and there’s no one to talk to over at google. It’s all robots and Indian guys. I’m fucked, people. Totally fucked. Oh well, whatever, right? It’s not like this is the most streamlined swiss watch of a website anyhow. Maybe they’re just trying to figure out some more appropriate ads for this here page. OR (and this would be way better) perhaps I used the term “felch” or ‘Buttfucking’ one too many times and set off some sort of alarm. One can only dream, I suppose.
But you know what? Dreams ARE coming true over here at BSC world HQ. I got a little mention in the juggalog, which is um, if you’ll pardon the pun, too dope (ha!). That puts me in dangerous proximity with the juggalo zeitgeist, which I’m pretty okay with.
Let’s talk juggalos for just a second, can we? I know it’s a pretty well tread topic here, but man, these are dangerous days. Juggalos are everywhere and they seem to be constantly expanding. Soon enough, the smaller, wiry juggalos will be orbiting the really, really massive ones like tiny, greasepainted interplanetary systems. I read in that juggalog that ICP sells 6XL shirts. SIX EX EL!!!!!!!! That’s fucking revolting. I could quite literally live in a 6xl shirt. With my wife, my kid and a separate half bath. What the fuck do you have to be eating in order to plump yourself up to six times an extra large? Cheesecake pizzas? Every fucking day? I mean, good heavens. I’ve seen some fat motherfuckers walking around. I’ve got some fat friends. I’ve even got some fat friends who drink and smoke and never exercise and just eat whatever the fuck they want and they don’t care at all. They’re fat. They’re down with being fat and they like donuts and soda and potato chips and ranch dressing on their pizzas and all that kind of shit and they are, just to put a fine point on it here, as fat as they could possibly get. They can’t be any fatter. AND YET they’re not six XL fat. I can’t even wrap my head around what the fuck is going on over in Shangri-La that these clowns are able to make themselves so humongous. I can’t. Anyway, this isn’t about fat juggalos, or why they’re so fat (although, if you think about it, any sort of cultural phenomenon that centers around people spraying copious amounts of soda on one another definitely appeals to the chunkier side of things). I want to tell you a little story about my friend Sean Nader and his awesome experience the one time he was, for just a fleeting moment, a member of the Dark Carnival.
Okay, full disclosure: I don’t remember the details of this story too well, so I’m gonna do my best to get it right. Nader, I know you’re out there reading this and I’m sorry about the fudged details, but like I said, after the new found alliance that’s been formed between BSC and the Juggalog, I feel compelled to rap juggalos with everyone, so whatever. Deal with it.
Firstly, Nader is from Detroit. Nader is NOT an ICP fan, and Nader is a bit of a local crew carnie type, in that he bartends special events, he sets up and tears down tents and shit for festivals and he’s generally a hired gun for when people doing events or other big shit around Detroit need some spare hands. (And when he’s not doing that he’s a spectacular bartender and a totally kick ass painter. In fact, I’m gonna start linking to his art on here as soon as he gets off his lazy dick and makes a website, and then you all can see firsthand how rad his stuff is, but whatever…I’m digressing like a woman. Forgive me.) Okay, so here’s the scene. St. Andrews hall in Detroit (above the shelter where eminem famously battlerapped his way into the hearts of genuine black people [as made famous in the closing moments of 8 mile]) is hosting ICP and Nader is stationed at the back door of the hall to guard something. I don’t remember what it was. Some boxes of shit, or maybe even just the door itself, but you get the idea. He’s there as a guard. Stationed in his position, a fill in dude just working there for the day as sort of ‘juggalo control’, or what have you. Suddenly a truck screeches up. It’s full of Faygo. Faygo is the off brand soda that juggalos spray on each other for some reason that I don’t think could possibly ever be explained to me in a way that doesn’t result in my saying or thinking “wow, that’s fucking retarded.” This stressed out dude gets out of the truck and looks at Nader and barks “come on, we gotta get this faygo to the stage right away!”
I’d like to pause for a moment to let that sink in. Some guy, a grown man, mind you, is so harried and desperate to get the FAYGO to the STAGE that he’s just barking orders at strangers. What kind of a fucking universe is this, man? Anyway, nader says something to the effect of “nah. Not touching the faygo. I’m here to guard this door/stack of boxes/bag of dildos/whatever the fuck it was.” And kind of just turns around and keeps smoking, at which point the guy gets in nader’s face a bit and says “dude, you don’t understand! This is ICP!” as though that is somehow significant in any way.
I mean, yeah, there’s no other reason that a truck of Faygo would be at the back of St Andrews hall, that’s for sure. But at what moment did this guy think that the bargaining chip would be that “Hey bro! There’s a bunch of fat clowns upstairs and if you don’t help me get this here faygo up there, they’re not gonna have anything to spray on each other, nobody’s gonna go home sticky and well, you’ll have ruined everything”? Could he possibly have imagined that this guy by the back door, smoking, not painted up at all (at least the way Nader tells it) could possibly give a shit about this? Or is this guy so dick deep in his faygo delivery job that he can’t see the forest for the big fat sticky trees? I mean, what a life. I get worried about picking my kid up on time from school, miscounting the money in my cash drawer, neglecting my blog or my songwriting and letting my brain atrophy, taking my wife or best friends for granted, growing old, disease, unstable economy, unstable crazy people, figuring out the future, making peace with the past, the health of everyone I love and the inevitable day that all the great luck I’ve had in this world runs out, but man, fuck me, no KILL me if a concern of mine is EVER getting the fucking faygo to the fucking stage. Good lord.
So, long story short, nader just stood there, told the dude to fuck himself and the dude, furious, told nader that he was gonna get him fired due to insubordination, BUT, can’t fire the temp carnie, man. Can’t be done. Plus, guess who’s not gonna take your side about the lack of Faygo in the venue? The people who run the venue and have to clean up the pink syrupy drool that you and your dumb carnival leave sticking and pooling all over everything.
On the same subject, but at another time, once in Cincinatti, I read some graffiti that the big guy from ICP wrote backstage. It was a bit of an essay about how these sized rooms (it was the Agora, which is about sixteen hundred capacity, I think) are perfect, and if you never let your ambition make you try to go bigger, you’ll have some longevity in this biz. Well, he’s right. I’ve never tried to headline a room bigger than the agora, and here I am, still going strong, my ninjas. Still going strong. Peace, love, faygo, hatchets and murder or whatever dumb shit they say. I gotta go.
XOOXOXOXOX
Oh, and once I read an interview where the same fat one (shaggy?) that wrote the graffiti essay about success in music bragged about how he just boned some chick and she took the rubber off him and ate the jizz out of it. It’s the hands down grossest thing I’ve ever heard. And now you’ve heard it too. Ick. Take it to your graves.

34 comments:

taking chubbies said...

That story was anticlimactic and dumb.

You're losing touch, BK.

Penstock Filibuster said...

WOW Chubby don't be so harsh. I thought the story was good, and it's my birthday so whatever I think goes. I just really wanted a bunch of strangers to know it was my birthday. I've been reading this for about a year and never poster before.

balls yo said...

Eating jizz out of a condom...nothing like the taste of lube, plastic and aids to help stop the shaking, although, I usually prefer whiskey.

Scott said...

when you are writing music, do you usually get the idea for the song, a lyric, or just fuck around on guitar and see what happens and then add some lyrics later or is it a combination of it all? I have fun just messing around on my bass and guitar and what not, but I never seem to be able to get a vocal melody or anything to come out of it.

balls yo said...

Filibuster: happy b-day and welcome to the most magical place in all the land.

Andrew said...

i laughed pretty insanely hard at this. especially the part about the 6XL shirts.

but in their (ahem) defense...these people ordinarily wear shirts that are 3 sizes too big to accomodate their low-slung, chain-ridden cargoes.

Candice said...

Yeah I don't know what you're talking about chubbies. I thought this post was great.

And even I wouldn't eat jizz out of a condom. YuckYuckYuck.

Robb said...

Aw seems I wasn't timely enought today; I was going to say "Insert Candice comment in which she confirms post-coital condom jizz consumption to be reprehensible, yet would make a special exception for BK".

On the 6XLs I'm pretty sure the Fayggalo majority don't fill the shirt's full contents but rather are roughly the size of your normal-sized fat friends and prefer their tshirts baggy and approaching the knees, akin to how thin-to-moderate sized individuals accomplish such with a 2XL or so

Mark said...

Don't knock it 'til you've tried it.

Bridgett said...

I got a theory for the 6XL shirts. I hate to stereotype (oh who am I kidding?) but isn't it some big trend in the thug world to wear an extremely large white tshirt that hangs down past your knees? Well Juggalos are generally just white kids trying to be thugs so... Anyone?

I like my Juggalo story better, because it involves puking on his dick, then cleaning it up with his, probably, size 6XL hatchetman shirt.

Bridgett said...

I changed my theory. THIS is why they make 6XL.

http://s3.amazonaws.com/data.tumblr.com/tumblr_kpd291nOHA1qa1lumo1_1280.jpg?AWSAccessKeyId=0RYTHV9YYQ4W5Q3HQMG2&Expires=1259179726&Signature=BhcwVbYxjap7HzWlpJ5uyNzp%2BfQ%3D

Candice said...

Robb I don't even think I'd do it if it were brendan's. Seems like he wouldn't be too turned on if I did.

Rob said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Rob said...

Not to be a jerk, but the Agora is in Cleveland, not Cincinnati. Unless Cincinnati has a similar sized venue with the same name. In which case they're just a bunch of rip off artists.

Lawrencesleftarm said...

First off BK, it's -nnati, not -natti. Sheesh.

Second, apparently the mindless Faygo obsession was started back in ICP's early days. When they were still new to the music scene, one of the *ahem* band members messed up on his lyrics. In response, the other member (or a friend of the band) threw a container of Faygo at him and it exploded all over his body. Whoopidy-fucking-doo-da. Goddamn Juggalos.

Banana@1000MPH said...

The ads - I don't know if you saw, BK, but they changed into more than those little text ones and instead full banners...so maybe those banners aren't loading anymore.

If you can't get your ads back, I suggest ads for juggalog.

verification: psone (get it? PS1, Playstation 1...wait, it was never called that)

kylewagoner said...

You've told us about the jizz-filled condom thing before! I demand new material! No, I really did love the Nader story, though. hahahhaa....ohh boy. Hey, what happens when your bassist doesn't really seem to give a fuck about playing shows, rehearsing, or new songs? Like our bassist doesn't really seem to care about the perks of being in a band but....I don't know. I don't know what to do with him. No one does. He's like our best friend but just kinda is getting indifferent about the band. Then again, he's always kinda been like that for the past 5 years...

love,
Kyle

KypPineapple said...

Good news, friends. Apparently ICP is coming to my town in just a few weeks, so my dream of kicking a Juggalo in the balls may indeed become true.

Jayzilla said...

@rob: agora is in cleveland -- cincy clubs wouldve been tom cats or bogarts

glad we got this out..

back to the "condom snacks" as we call it -- its just like a road soda.. delicous & portable

planespotting said...

Gosh ladies (and by ladies, I think I just mean Candice), who do you have to be to get a girl to suck your spunk out of the condom you just jizzed in?

For Christ Sakes, when did we all become such prudes?

Blake said...

I'm actually drinking a Faygo Rock & Rye as I am reading this. Though, I have no desire to spray it on anyone.

I believe Violent J is the fat one.

Robb said...

Lawrence - props on the origin story

Blake - good man. Honestly it's the spraying that bothers me most--much moreso than the name, font, or packaging. Though those are also questionable

Banana@1000MPH said...

Blake - I'm pretty sure Shaggy is the fat one.

This could be solved by a simple google images search, but I think it is better to just debate it.

Robb said...

Thought they were both the fat one? There's a thin one? I guess that provides a funny contrast. Really I'd just prefer two heffers

Blake said...

Banana, Robb. Upon further investigation, and disregarding your advice while I regret doing it. Violent J is indeed the fattER one, but this made me giggle.

http://www.yeti.ro/imag/gothopotamus-fat-juggalo-icp-demotivational-poster.jpg

Sam Tie Blogger said...

Icp is lame, but I've met them and you and they were a lot nicer. Just sayin!

Drunken Acorn said...

Just to clarify, That wasn't a girl who ate the jizz it was me.

wilddanimal said...

I used to know a chick who claimed that if I could cum enough for her to gargle it, she would be so impressed she would do it.

JSIN said...

I knew a bunch of kids who liked ICP growing up, lets just say they were mostly white trash kids who were barley passing high school. On a side note Sean is a cool guy if you see him at a show but him a jack and coke. Oh and Nader is the one in this photo that is not me.

myassisapipebomb said...

this is some good ol' BSC shit right here. juggalo ripping will NEVER get old.

Banana@1000MPH said...

Buttsweat is the new Falcon EP. Someone sent me the Falcon EP and I listened to it literally about 80 times on my old home computer (I bought it at some point) and now I am always listening to Buttsweat whatwith no record player and a bonus mp3 track.

ak said...

...oh the Juggalos and their antics. What if everyone dressed up in Juggalo attire at the next LArms show. How fucking weird would that be...no, that would be disturbing. I digress, just whiskey, thank you. Some of my friends liked them for a bit in High School, but I think it was a novelty or a good excuse to wear a wife beater and sing about Ninjas (is there really any good excuse??). I seem to recall the ICP records as more of a comedic thing, but who knows why the fuck people cling on to such strange crap.

Robb-like the musical ideas.

Candice- only suitable role, doctor operating on midgets

Kyle- I know it may be hard to fathom, but you're around 18, (right?) and the prospect of one of your friends not being into something he started when he was 13or so is daunting, but it's not the end of the world. Just ask him if he really wants to be in the band; if not, find someone else, if you're friends it won't be a big deal. Like an ex he may not have sworn off fucking, just fucking you....

Daniel Gordon said...

I'm not a big dude but I once saw a kid who was probably half my size wearing what was probably a 6XL ICP shirt. In my hometown of Waterville, ME Juggalos abound.

Moxie. said...

what is with the internet resurgence of fascination with juggalos? ONTD (Oh No They Didn't, retarded and hysterical celebrity gossip blog) shits the bed every time there's a post about ICP. I like to think that if we ignore them they'll go away.