Thursday, April 28, 2011

Girl Adventure: Inside The Lair of the Juggalos

You wouldn't happen to know any photographers, wouldya?

Oh Grant... if only I knew what the hell you were getting me into. Yes. I did know a photographer, and she was me.

And so did Grant (my lover NO. My friendzoned drinking buddy from the karaoke days of yore) invite me on an outing to go to "Twiztid" in LA. I thought that was the typical "i can haz cheezburger?" spelling he uses for everything in text messages, but no, in fact that was the actual spelling for a real "thing". A band, even. I called my dad to regale him of my upcoming "gig", as it were, and the conversation went something like this:

B-Tans: So my buddy has this website, and he asked me to shoot a show for him.

Her Dad: What kind of show?

BT: I don't know, Twisted. I think it's a trade show or something, like comic-con or some kind of exposition for nerd things.

HD: Oh! That sounds swell! (because my dad's from the fifties, let's just say he's a cartoon from Fallout for purposes of my story) Gee, well I sure wouldn't mind helping you out, kiddo...

(My instinct kicked in here. GRANT invited me to something??? Definitely NSFW. Or the folks.)

BT: ... nah, I think I'd rather just hang out with my friends and do it on my own, thanks. I'll let you know how it goes though.

Seriously, I thought it would be a trade show. 100% full retarded there. I fought the impulse to look it up, should I get cold feet - only later did I find out it would be an exposition of white rappers in circus makeup. I gotta be honest, it's not my precious 80s hair metal, [imagine me hunched over my Def Leppard headband like Gollum] but I'll give them props for creativity. The people were super nice despite the freaky scary appearance, but I gotta be honest, a couple dudes looked and smelled like rape. Just sayin', I'mma leave that open to your imagination.

Despite a mild concern for my lady parts, I had myself a great time, but I totally didn't look a BIT like I belonged. Some dude met me in the hallway and was like "WOO wOOOO!!!" I smiled graciously. By his response I could tell he was apparently upset that I didn't "woo woo" him back. Pardon me sir, I do not mean to offend, however I do not speak train. Thank you, Grant, for the opportunity to experience Juggalo culture. I still don't know exactly what that word means, but next time I will be more likely to wear a studded belt and my steel toed boots. If this does not allow me to fit in, at the very least I'll not look like a hipster at the circus like this last time.

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