Werewolf: The Mike & JB Show!

[Mike] Played in Houma last night @ The Brickhouse for the owner Kendal’s birthday. They redid their backstage area and it’s pretty nice now. They even have Playboys on the coffee table. Those come in really handy when there are no attractive people in the bar.

A photo was taken for the female Werewolf fans of JB changing backstage. Reminds me a lot of George Washington leading the American troops across the Delaware and subsequently to victory. Except in JB’s case he’s about to get smash wasted and play for a bunch of drunks in Houma.. which I’m still not sure if we won or not.

A Werewolf tradition at the Brickhouse that we take immense joy in is finding this other cover band, “Scum Gumbo” on the big schedule in front of the bathrooms and erasing the “S”. This is the first time we’d gone and they hadn’t been on the schedule so I had to write it in.

The finale of the night was an amazing performance of the song Na Na Hey Hey(Kiss Him Goodbye) sung by a homeless man into an unplugged mic while we packed up our instruments and got the fuck out of there. I have a video of it on my phone. His ability to sing notes that don’t exist and his homelessness had me floored. I’ll upload it someday.

[JB] – I got bored last night working, so I dicked around in my musical wizardry lab, and shit out this fucking awesome piece of art. It’s so good you’ll cum in your pants, and you’ll have these spermy clumps tangled in the pube hair. So take off your pants so you can dance to this shit, you stupid sheep.

clicky: JB’s Wet Fart

[Mike] Fred’s was rock. Nice big cardboard box with my favorite iced down beer and then a CRAPLOAD of Tequila shots coming out of nowhere during the second set. That’s what I call hospitality. Nothing like tequila shots and random dry humping for an hour and a half. Random shots and tequila humping?

Au contraire, it must be Awkward Silent Stage-time Month(re: last Caterie blog) because the power went out FOUR times during our second set. The bartender said we played it off well, but imagine us playing your favorite song and then… NOTHING. Immediately, you see all of the guys in Werewolf crying and pissing their pants. To some people that might be a good show but to the majority it’s a whole lot like watching four guys cry and piss themselves. Almost exactly like that.

I didn’t take any pics, so here’s one of me playing in the huge tent @ Fred’s in September of last year before Rita hit(and when I had hair):

What’s a blog entry without a picture?

At the after-party I went to, a four foot Filipino girl punched a guy three times in the face and then he threatened to come back and shoot up the apartment. It’s a good thing there was a samurai sword on hand or else we would have been in trouble! Did I make that up?

[Mike] Not to shatter JB’s illusion of Saturday night but I have a few pics I took from my phone:

Here’s Illegal D talking to Illegal D before the show.

Later on, Illegal D shit his pants during the first few songs and left us stranded on stage for at least 3 minutes. In silent, awkward stage time this feels like a little over 9 hours. During this silence I figured I might as well pose for a picture with a fan.

And now our horny, methed out crowd.

The events that take place after this get a little blurry(even blurrier than the pictures themselves). Suffice it to say, I won’t be able to look back at that blurriness and laugh for quite awhile. Well… UNTIL FRED’S(this Friday)!

[JB] – Wow. What a fucking sweet show Saturday. There’s nothing better than taking your money and having your girlfriend grind all over our sweaty asses for an hour. Honestly.. something was definitely up that night.. I guess everyone was in heat or something.. The stage was fucking crowded with chicks. Which leads me to ask.. What would it take to get our shows to tip the scales from typical “Werewolf Show” to “Party Hardcore” territory?… I remember seeing some dude in the crowd shaking his head and laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.. Seriously.. It was off the balls.. We were almost there.. Oh, and sorry to whomever felt the backside of my pimphand. Don’t grab. Ask.