Saturday, August 31, 2013

My Day with Juggalo's

Dear sweet baby Jesus, the only reason I can even express how unerringly boring this day was is because I have regained a semblance of sanity. I cannot actually comprehend the amount of sheer stupidity that happened around me, that I endured for the sake of a dear, old friend.

Now, I could go into stark detail about why this day may have been one of the most repetitive, frustrating and explosively dull days I've ever had the misfortune to live, but instead, I shall relay to you actual dialog through Facebook messaging via smartphone about my general encounters, observations and predicaments. These abrasive and decidedly biased and evil statements may have been the only thing that kept me from chewing my own limbs off as an excuse to leave the party early. I did gnaw on my shoulder bone a little, but I think that may have given one of the Juggalo's a semi-erection, so that idea withdrew itself faster than it presented itself.

Although, I will give a little background in case one doesn't know what a Juggalo is, and for this, I am sorry, but I hear the more you know about an infestation or plague, the easier it is to get rid of. A Juggalo is essentially white trash, embracing what it believes to be dark, violent and very thuggish behaviour, and achieves this by posing as a gangsta, something, as any sane person knows, is unachievable in white culture. We simply don't have the same kind of level of cool that black people have to pull off both intimidating and awesome at the same time. So to make up for this, the Juggalo uses face paint to make him or herself look like a clown from hell. Yes. Here's photographic evidence that people actually do this, and take themselves seriously whilst doing so.

I think they're trying to get the Ronald McDonald look if he took up trucking or drug trafficking.

So, without further ado, here is a recollection of my point of view of this revolting and pitiful scene. I should note, this all took place at a 21st at the victim's mother's house. Yes, they are so hard they live with mummy, takes some real painted Juggalo nutsacks that look like a bat ran wild into a peanut butter and jelly factory to do that shit.

(Character one is me, character two is my best friend)

Just arrived, word "Juggalo" has already been used three times. Conversation ranges from boring to completely non-existent. Further updates incoming as I will be bored as fuck.

N-DAWG: LOLOLOL Oh Behrn, Oh sweet Mary Jesus of society, Oh Behrn Vomit- or something. wait- arrived at S-MAN's or the party? BEHRN: S-MAN's, already concocting excuses as to why i can leaveMad cow disease affects humans, right? N-DAWG: Yep. So do aneurisms. BEHRN: Named a drink. Called "Juggalo Syrup with Josie's Nuts." Made with frangelico, vodka and S-MAN's spit. Am looking down whilst eating kebabs. BEHRN: Making water drop sounds in your mouth: Most hilarious thing ever done in man's history. N-DAWG: That's good Behrn! Keep it up! He'll be buying your aneurism act in no time! BEHRN: This is what they're doing, everyone is already having one, to them, aneurisms means the party's just starting . N-DAWG: Rofl BEHRN: Currently dying of Rainbow Dreams, it smells an awful lot like burning flesh mixed with dung of something off-world. Toxicology report on me may show signs of blackened lungs. I had to pretend to shit, may fake irritable bowel syndrome or something of the ilk, if I didn't run the risk of shitting myself just for entertainment. N-DAWG: xDDD!!! BEHRN: Also have a pinpoint headache, listening to S-MAN'S bogan mate talk about monster trucks may cause various arterial explosions. Sweet Jesus, the chicken hunting songI can't evenHow can something already burned into my memory as the baddest kind of anything I've ever heard be worse than I remember? Shaun's friend said I'm ugly for a Juggalo, had to resist the urge to say: "Perchance dropkicks with retarded dispositions and poor life choices aren't my target audience?" N-DAWG: ROFL!!! Yeah,you have to get outta there before you get yourself juggled. BEHRN: I feel bad enough that I haven't had a swig of "Mad Macca Choof" or tried any Frangelico, but just the company is franklySickening. It's like being hit in the face with a bat made of smoke and face paint. The more I eat, the less I'm required to speak. My plans take shape. No-one objects when I walk away quietly and hit my head against the wall. Is losing brain cells really what is required to mingle tonight? Is it possible to lose that many? Find out after 10 seconds when I have nothing to do again. BEHRN: Tonight shall be spent in a weed field of mushrooms. We're taking high to a whole new level. Lol, S-MAN's sheets are purple with stripes. It'd be like sleeping in a pimp's gay asshole. XD BEHRN: Oh gawd, they're talking kung-fuUnblockable punches that are just arm rolls and fucking monkey's paw stance, where you grant their wish, but there are die repercussionsI hate everything right now I have discovered something: No matter how much you try, you cannot hide from Juggalo music. I think that's something that they could take to the grave, but since there's no axe buried in it, it's not actually classed as dead to them. Fucking hell, I am seriously getting pissed off and this is only the second song, but I think it's also a combination of asshole-tasting smoke and pathetically boring chatter that's finally taking it's toll. IT'S BREAKING ME, N-DAWG, IT'S BREAKING MEEEEEEEE! BEHRN: Theres something I can relate this evening to: Getting my stomach tied into a knot, then stepped on. Either that, or severe indigestion: Tolerable, but unnecessarily irritable. BEHRN: I'm glad there's a song that answers everyone's burning question: What is a juggalo? The answer is, apparently, what everyone was expecting, so I sense they're not answering the question, but asking me, in a philosophical, perspective kind of way. < Sarcastic as all fuck. BEHRN: The juggalo's control the gateway between life and death with sock puppets and retarded questions, and because I can't answer any of them, I'm not allowed past Trumpy the Serial Elephant Sock Murderer. N-DAWG: ^ ROFL So, you found a way to bail yet? BEHRN: No, wait, they're like imps: All they do is bring annoyance and inconvenience to the point of such infuriation that I want to do unto them what they do unto chickens. Getting there, I shit you not, I've eaten so much I'm in pain, because eating is like a paradise island surrounding a sea of lava dicks N-DAWG: ROFL what is there to eat? Just- eat slowly- then you can be always eating BEHRN: Kebabs, delicious kebabs, and sausage rolls, I've been consuming them all, everyone else is too busy drinking and smoking, or rapping really, really slowly. N-DAWG: Horridjusthorrid You at THE PLACE? BEHRN: This is what hell is, just slightly more eternal since it's only been two hours. Yes, haven't moved from behind the couch, it's my haven, it's my home. N-DAWG: Lol Ask to use S-MAN's laptop BEHRN: The stool is my family now, the broom, my wife. I have found my people, I am content. That's not a broom, that's a lamp. My world is a lie, N-DAWG, I don't think I can survive with the fallacies the universe gives me. Even the stool is no solace, this culture is sin, this world will burn, I feel betrayed. What is home? I don't even. N-DAWG: Calm Behrn, get away from all their fake drugs. Go make friends with the giant teddy bear in S-GIRL's room. BEHRN: I am, this is the madness that comes from loving a broom that turns out to be a lamp. Fuck that bear, I like it here, it's cold and hard, like my life. N-DAWG: Rofl BEHRN: 6:08pm I've retaken the toilet, I can finally pretend to shit again and not hide. I am seriously scared of meeting S-MAN's friends that the one nice one is the one I'll crack on and tell them to shut the fuck up and force-feed them kebab sticks. That, ladies and gentlemen, is my misery, captioned and hilarious.
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