sayer\_june wrote:bad decisions, chris? hell no: that shit was lasting memory gold.in madison this guy comes up after our set and in this well creepy monotone just goes you guys don't have a place? i was like, nope! so he says you and stay at my place......i'm gonna rape you i shrugged it off and told him to rape elliott, he likes it. then later he was like yea, i've got a really nice queen sized air matress... oh really? ...you can't use it. well we decided to go there anyway and i piggy backed Nervous Curtains into staying there too because they didn't have a spot and we needed protection from the insane man. the apartment was, to put it mildly, full of character. as in cartoon characters. as in thousands of busted and fucked up toys, many of which were GI joes in compromising positions. he also had some copies of http://www.girlsandcorpses.com/ magazine. in other hands, it would've been funny. we then notice he has a unicorn tattoo on his leg and it has an AK-47 and a giant fucking ball sac. his response to us pointing it out: best twenty bucks i ever spent his toenails were also painted red which was disturbing for some reasonso now we are all lying down getting ready to go to sleep and this guy produces a chocolate bar from the fridge. he then hits the light and says i'm gonna go eat this in bed and cut myself..........i wish i was joking. we wait for him close his bedroom door then all starting losing our shit wicked hard. i was convulsively laughing into my pillow and i thought i might black out. aaron only got something like 11 minutes of sleep because he kept waking up worried that old boy would be standing over his sleeping back in a clown mask or something. creeper woke us up at 10 am because i have to be at work in half an hour and if you guys wanna get cleaned up or anything... well, the tub was goddamned jet black, so no dice there (though robert from nervous curtains braved a shower, saying he was worried the whole time the guy was gonna bust in and jump in to join him). as duder is walking around topless getting ready, i notice he has a full back piece of mike patton in photorealistic black and gray. and this was a big guy so this thing was like 3 feet high. when asked about it he just said it was free. the first word out of elliott's mouth when we left: RUNspeaking of elliott, i'll let him regale you with the tale of the shaved ape and the rowdy powder.DudeGuyBroMan,Ok, only because the guy from this story found us on the WAXEATER page and posted a few things, I am going to show y'all his picture to prove we are not exaggerating in anyway shape or form. Here ya go:

jimmy two hands wrote:Cat vengeance is cruel and to the point.folk wisdom right there.i used to play drums in the band fight amp. there are many of these stories. we pretty much stayed with some different fucked up mutant every night.in denver, we played at this really awesome warehouse/squat type space that apparently has been there in some form or another for 25 years. after the show the guy who set it all up told us we would probably wanna leave our gear inside because the neighborhood was really sketchy. upon hearing this advice, two of us decided to sleep in the van itself to ensure there is no funny business. i stayed up hanging out drinking/smoking with one of the roommates, this real shifty rat-like dude with a moustache, then went out to the van to see how the other two were faring with the cold. i get in and they're like rolling-on-the-floor laughing hysterically. they point out the window, so i look and there's a crowd of like 20 people hanging out a block down the road, shouting and dancing. new people are coming and going. i'm instructed to keep watching and after a while, they all scatter at once. a minute later, a cop rolls down the street. a minute after the cop, five people are back, then ten, then twenty. a pick-up truck pulls up, truck bed full of bundles of sticks and branches, and they all take turns at the window. some of them leave, some of them hang around talking and laughing. this repeats itself over and over. truck comes, people score, cop is spotted down the road, people scatter. ten minute cycles. now, i'm from southern new jersey and i've spent a great deal of time (too much time) in the city of camden (frequently voted the worst or most dangerous US city), but i've never seen anything like this. it surely must have been the largest most brazen crack set in history. we're watching, laughing, mesmerized, when the roommate i was hanging out with comes out the front door and into view. we say, he isn't...., but indeed he was. he looks up and down the street and heads for the corner. the laughter in the van is now entirely out of our control. now, for a while there, i liked to party and i didn't really care what that entailed. so sensing the oppurtunity to get really fucked up, once he did his thing and went inside, i swooped in offering him my last five bucks for one of his bags. at first he is uptight and unhappy that i'm on to him, but he caves and invites me down into his room. his girlfriend had come home, i guess from work, so it was the three of us down there. over and over he is saying, you know we don't do this all the time, man. this is just like a special occasion thing. we don't do this all the time. you're not gunna tell my roommates are you man? we don't do this all the time. i'm thinking, dude, i'm sitting here doing it with you. you don't need to explain anything to me (you fucking crackhead) so we smoke up all the drugs while they watch concrete tv and make out on the bed. by the end, their little pipe had broken down to nothing so they ripped the antenna off the tv, bent it up and smoked out of that. they started getting all geeked out and weird, and they're making out was getting hotter and heavier so i eventually retired to my sleeping bag upstairs and did my best to pass out for a while, tossing and turning and grinding my teeth. the guys in the van said he went back out to the corner two or three more times after that.my sincerest apologies, crazy crackhead venue guy, if any of your roommates read this forum. i never did tell them, man.

ok, this is kind of more just a tour story, but it leads into who we stayed with that night. i once had the supreme surreal pleasure of playing a show in ravenswood, wv. we got to the venue, a little rec hall connected to a church (there were SO many churches in that town!). the kid setting the show up was there skating with some friends so we hung out with him. got around to asking if there were flyers for the show we could have. he said they never made flyers as there really wasn't anywhere to put them in town. he just invited everyone on the internet. i know this is sometimes how things are done nowadays, but i consider it a bad sign nonetheless as far as what to expect in terms of attendance. no worries, however. people started to show up and it looked like it would be a good time. then a few more people showed. then a lot more. before i knew it, it looked like pretty much every person in the town aged 14 - 28 was at this show. turned out we were the second out-of-town band to play a show in ravenswood EVER, so people were understandably stoked about it. a few ska and pop-punk bands played and we laughed and enjoyed ourselves.our turn to play came, so we loaded the gear in and set everything up. the bass player and i tried really hard to never play without first blazing up if we could help it. so he and i head out to the van along with one guitar player. the other guitar player doesn't smoke, and we've never made any attempt to be decent human beings, so we leave his ass there to tune all the guitars and mic check and all that. as we're getting high in the back of the van, a cop car parks DIRECTLY behind the van, bumper to bumper. it is the general assumption in the van that we are going to fucking rot for the rest of our lives in some fucked up backwoods west virginia prison. we hunch down, hiding but waiting for the inevitable. a lot of time passes so finally i was brave enough to poke my head up a bit. there was no one in the cop car. how he got out and walked into the show without us hearing the car door slam in our state of terrified heightened awareness is beyond me. we each take a breath, steady ourselves, take a moment to appreciate our freedom and head inside.lou, the guitar player we left, is understandably PISSED. since we were hunkered down praying in the back of the van, a lot of time had elapsed and he had been stuck standing there in front of like 300 people, his guitar strapped on and tuned with no band to play with, growing increasingly awkward. he informed us that we weren't allowed to play now; the cops had come and shut it down. after some asking around we were told that the show was getting stopped because the priest or whatever had found two kids fucking in the basement of the church. so there was the priest, the cop (sheriff!), a few concerned parents and the fucking MAYOR of ravenswood, all there because some kids got caught with their pants down. apparently not a lot happens in ravenswood. we hear the kid who put the show on arguing and pleading in the room behind the rec hall and after a few tense minutes of us standing there with our dicks in our hands waiting to find out whether to play or not, he came out, took the mic, and gave this speech... it was like fucking footloose. so very impassioned. i've talked things over with the mayor, and he's been decent enough not to let a few bad apples spoil the bunch. these guys came all the way down from new jersey to play for us tonight. i know everyone is excited for them to rock, so we're gunna let 'em play! the show's been saved! we're gunna let 'em play! everyone put your hands together and let's welcome fight amp to west virginia!! so much applause. hooting and hollering. the sign of the beast. it was like we were metallica and i was so high i really didn't know if i was awake anymore. we played like every song we knew, there was MUCH headbanging, it really felt triumphant. after the set, kids were asking us to sign their shoes and their skateboards and shit. so weird. this girl came up to us, introduced herself as mary and said she was having a few people over her place and that we could crash there. so we follow her home and all is well, her friends are nice despite the constant deliverance jokes and i wouldn't fall asleep if i were you, and all that. we get around to talking about the show and i say, i really just can't believe that the fucking sheriff and the mayor came out. it's really weird that a little punk show was such an event. mary's reply: yeah, right? big deal, they caught me and tim fornicatin'. like no one's ever had sex in ravenswood before. god! OF COURSE we just happened to stay with the kids from the basement, OF COURSE! had i thought about it, i probably would have just assumed. and fornicatin was her exact wording. many laughs after that.

oh and the next time we tried to play in ravenswood, the show got cancelled the day of. it was the same young kid who had put it together, and he was really apologetic and invited us to stay at his dad's house. we went, hoping to be fed. the kid's name was adam, i believe, and his dad's name was jake. pretty much as soon as we got there, the kid went to his room and just didn't come out the rest of the night. jake stayed there with us, offered up the 30 pack in his fridge and drank with us. he was really cool at first. young single dad; union welder; loved AC/DC. but then as he got a buzz on, he spent the rest of the night saying things like, i don't know what adam's problem is. i just don't know what to do with that boy anymore. all he wants to do is sit in his room on the computer. i try to take him fishing and he just won't have it. i really WORRY about him, you know? and now here you are, his friends from out of town and in a rock band no less and he doesn't wanna hang out. i would even let him have a few beers since it's a special occasion. i just really WORRY about him, you know? you think you guys could maybe have a talk with him? VERY awkward. sorry jake, i really don't know if your son is gay, and seeing as i've kissed a man or two in my time, i don't know what having a talk with him might accomplish, even though we ARE in a rock band, no less.

cannot compete with the previous handful of posts.still, i have to share this classic:rome. we're finished playing, and the promoter a round young man, has agreed to host two of us (jason and i) at his place, and two of us (drummer and roadie frantz) at a nice lady's place. we're thankful, but stick around the venue to be (pre-arranged) interviewed by an attractive young woman for some magazine. the promoter rolls his eyes and wheezes whhhhhyyyyy?!!! in a way that we still jokingly quote when we are desperate and don't get some stupid concept.eventually, we leave, and i drive the van with jason and mr. promoter way out into a suburb... to his parents' house. we go in, at something like 2am, and as we walk through the darkened dining room, it appears as if the large family has just left the dinner table moments before. dishes are on the table, food is out, glasses as half full. nothing remarkable, except that it's probably been that way for six hours. the only remarkable part is what's in the center of the table. it's large and has a napkin draped over it. sticking prominently out of one side is a long leg, with a hoof at the end of it.jason and i are shown upstairs where we are to sleep in mr. promoter's bedroom, which apparently hasn't changed since he was a wee lad. it is decorated with pigs.all pigs.hundreds of pigs. pig curtains, pig sheets. pictures of pigs.we work very hard on not getting murdered in our sleep, then get up and out as early as we can.

dontfeartheringo wrote:The next day, the first roommate home scooped the box, then laid a GIANT turd of his own creation in there. I know someone who did a similar thing where he shat in the catbox, but the cat was watching him while he did it. This cat was apparently very territorial and took offense. The catbox shitter later fell asleep on the couch and awoke to a pile of fresh cat shit on his chest. Cat vengeance is cruel and to the point.

I am having trouble imagining the events that lead up to burying a swamp cooler.

I lived for free in a house owned by a guy who ran some sort of an ayahuasca cult for a little bit.

can't compete with the previous stories but i'm full of coffee and feel like typing so here you go:knoxville, 2001. one of the staffers at the club said we could stay at their house. we follow them home, there's a party going on and a sign on the front door saying "yeah, there's an assault rifle in the house. deal with it." some people are back in the kitchen drinking, others are just milling around wherever. at 4:30am, someone puts on 'and justice for all' at 176db in an empty bedroom. i find this mildly entertaining, my metal-hating bandmate does not. a couple songs in, it seems apparent to all that no one in the house is actually listening to it, so my bandmate innocently goes into the bedroom and lifts the needle off the record. big mistake. the drunken linebacker who claimed the room and the record as his, was Very Unhappy. i walk into the room to see 6'2" shirtless linebacker blind with rage and screaming at my 5'4" no-muscle-having-scrawny-ass-indie-rocker bandmate. somehow the linebacker is talked out of killing everyone, and a tenuous peace ensues. for a half hour. then he got himself mad again, and called a house meeting at 5:30am. i didn't get to see the minutes of said meeting, but i believe they called for my band's swift and violent removal from the house. i was awoken by my drummer running into the room in his boxers, saying "we gotta go. NOW." we went. standing outside the van as morning breaks, wondering what to do, the last survivor of the party walks out the house and says we're welcome to stay with her. we take her up on it. her house is lovely, books and records floor to ceiling, enough huge comfy couches for everyone, and a friendly kitten. thank god for that girl. ....back in the mid 90s, john vanderslice's band mk ultra stayed at my place for a couple days. i went into my kitchen where john was making tea, said hello, asked him some innocuous question about san francisco, and his reply was "i'm sorry, but i'm trying to save my throat for the show, so i'd really rather not talk right now." i blinked at him and showed myself out.

Friends of my mom's folks I stayed with on vacation when I was fourteen.Really nice folks but, I wound up working on a few oddball chores while staying with them.1.) They needed a mattress picked up and taken to their daughter's place. No big deal, right? My brother and I had to help my mom's dad work on a car for three days to get it into driveable shape to pick the mattress up.2.) They were trying to sell a junky used car that was behind a bunch of junk in a garage. My brother and I carried most of the junk out of the garage. When it was time to get it out so they could pick it up, My gramps and I pushed it out while my brother "drove". There was a whole shitload of roach motels and mousetraps inside the car.3.) A week into the visit the woman we're staying with has a talk with my grandmother about what seems like someone peeing on the bathroom floor. My grandmother has my grandfather talk it over with my brother and I. We both are sure it wasn't us. My gramps takes up in to see what the deal is in the bathroom. Upon flushing the toilet, water starts leaking everywhere. It took about half a day to get a new wax ring and get the toilet working correctly.3.) It's in California in the middle of the summer. At some point, my grandmother asks if the have an air conditioner. They say no but, they have a swamp cooler buried in the back yard. It took my brother and I a day and a half to dig it up and haul it out of the hole.Photo from that vacation: