[This is part two of our portraits from this year’s Gathering of the Juggalos. Check out part one here. Photos courtesy of Matt Downe from Tall Tale Productions. For those of you eagerly awaiting the next installment of my Tour Diary, I’m writing it. I should have that for you this week. ]
As documented elsewhere, this is the guy who cut his nipples off for money.
“I’ve been getting mixed responses,” admitted Adam the following day. “Alotta, ‘What the f*cks?’”
The 25-year-old has extensive body-modification plans—his face is already a tattooed corpse-paint mask—and he intended to have his nipples removed someday. This usually costs money, so Adam figured he was saving if he did it on a monetary dare.
His cousin sliced the left one off right there.
For that feat, he profited $58—though he thinks he’ll ultimately earn more for the actual severed papilla. “I got a buddy who’s buying it to put it in his living room as a conversation piece,” he explained. They’re still negotiating a price. In the meantime, the soon-to-be centerpiece is sealed in a plastic bag back in Adam’s home freezer.
Once that sale happened, Adam’s other friends wanted to buy his remaining nipple. “I was like, ‘Welp, I’m going to try to auction it off at the Gathering,” he recalled, laughing. “I didn’t know I could sell them.” His friend J.T., who cut it off at the JumpOff Stage, bought it for $100. He wants to patch the preserved nipple onto his hat. [Gawker]
We missed the actual nipple cutting, unfortunately. When we saw him, he was letting people staple dollar bills to his torso. This is a common problem – we artists really need to learn to put a higher value on what we do. You can check out a couple pictures of his nipple in a plastic bag here, if you like barfing.
The Miss Juggalette Contest. I swear on my life that one of the contestant’s talents was singing, and she sang that Sarah McClachlan song from the animal shelter commercial. The surreality of it melted my brain. The audience was amazingly patient with her.
Backstage at the Miss Juggalette contest. Another girl’s “talent,” (not the one pictured) was, according to her, “I’m a model from Massachusetts.”
In practice, this meant that she came out and did a little twirl, the crowd yelled at her to show her tits, and she smiled and flipped them off as she walked offstage.
The winner, collecting her sash. She spat and swallowed fire during the talent segment.
Another contestant did a spoken-word poem. The contestant immediately following the spoken word one twerked, to the strains of an ICP song whose chorus goes “I need a bitch. A special bitch. I need a bitch who pussy poppin booty switch.” The juxtaposition was priceless.
(Photo by Ben).
Gotta have gloves to go with the sash, obviously. We saw Miss Juggalette again later, watching a wrestling match. She and her boyfriend were part of a “fire tribe.” He twirled a flaming staff and she was a fire spitter/eater. I saw a guy spit fire earlier that same day using lighter fluid. She confirmed to me that this is not a good idea. (The fire people were all incredibly nice, incidentally).
A water balloon cannon.
One thing the Juggalos love more than anything else is throwing shit at each other. During any event, people will stand off to the side, chucking Faygo bottles, or in this case, water balloons, into the center of the crowd. No one getting hit with them seems to get angry either. A Faygo bottle almost domed Laremy at one point (I moved out of the way, because I always keep my head on a swivel like a G), and a guy immediately jumped in to show us that the proper etiquette is to pick up whatever hits you and huck it the other way. (Photo by Ben)
Here’s a guy throwing a firecracker. (Photo by Ben)
Back at “Camp Ratchet” with Shawn, one of our most indispensable ambassadors of Juggalo lore, especially the Twiztid/ICP beef. Shawn said he sold his AR-15 to pay his way to The Gathering. I would site this as an example of Juggalos promoting non-violence, but I liked Shawn, and I actually feel safer with him having an AR-15 than some random stranger he sold it to.
Laremy again, blending.
Cutest girl ever to sport a septum piercing/creepy eye contact/spider-web tat?
Camp Ratchet attacked a passing bus with flour, brought specifically for that purpose. Remember what I said about throwing shit? (Photo by Ben)
It was actually a two-part attack, with phase one being Faygo squirt guns.
The attack was organized by bullhorn, as you can see. Matt Lieb shouted “Allahu Akhbar!” in the middle of it, while wearing his hatchetman yarmulke. Something about the duality of man.
Next slide may be NSFW, depending on your W’s view of fake penises.
He may not be the dildo Batman this Gathering wants, he’s the dildo Batman this Gathering needs.
Likewise, the “FAM-UH-LEE” chant would sometimes break into a chorus of “THREE WORD CHANT! THREE WORD CHANT!” Deconstructivist humor is not lost on the ‘Los.
Next slide also vaguely NSFW, for pasties.
Packed house for the ICP seminar, where ICP announced their new show on Fuse TV. I believe this is right about the spot where that kid fatally OD’d the next day.
Cotton candy, corndogs, gallons of soda pop… these people all have the palate of a 6-year-old.
Oh, Matt Lieb. I don’t even know where you get underwear like that. He has great legs though.
Oh good, more soda.
You may remember the Sacrifice Tree from my second Tour Diary (and if not, what are you doing with your life?). Well, here it is.
Our camp neighbor, Mike. See? I told you his truck was badass.
Another Juggalo Hey Buddy. These are the two guys from Dallas I wrote about here. The Gathering is small enough that you end up running into the same people two, three, four times in the course of a weekend.
There was less face paint than you’d expect, which was disappointing – result of rain and some of the professional face painters not showing up this year, I was told. Some people still made it happen.
I don’t know what the hell that says either. At first I thought “Will let you on Earth for weed,” which would be amazing.
No one liked Upchuck the Clown, judge of Juggalo Night court.
The guy who strapped us into this ride looked like Jim Varney’s corpse reanimated with meth, and the fact that he was holding a wrench and a toolbox didn’t exactly inspire confidence in the machinery. But hey, we’re alive.
This devil spawn is going to have a positively wicked time on this carnival ride.
Oh hey, how you doin.
This should be the cover of the brochure.
Still gotta record a podcast. You can buy the Gathering podcast here, by the way. It costs a dollar. You can staple it to our Paypal account.