We are your girlfriend, except that you can show up totally wasted, we don’t mind, honey. We’re totally wasted too, baby. You can show up slurring and sloppy, and we’ll still put out for you. We don’t mind if you pass out, we’ll finish you off and clean you up, baby. Please come back.

Here’s what you missed if you weren’t able to show up (tsk, tsk.)

• Werewolf, the only band who will ever love you.
• JB and Mike sweating their asses off so that you may get your panties juiced.
• A spunktacular crowd stirring in their own sauces for hours drinking our rock and roll salvation.
• New t-shirts available for the first time ever from here on.

• DJ Ben Lewis on the 1′s and 0′s
• J-Kwon’s “Tipsy” making a triumphant return, only to be one-upped when JB explodered his load.
• Tequila
• Finding yourself for the first time.
• An unclefucking wonderful crowd. Seriously, they were so fucking Rad Baddical I just had to take pictures. If you were there, Saturday, thank you.

A smattering of pictures for your eyes to eat:

That’s Josh in the lower right of the pic. He’s sitting in on jazz clarinet for our rendition of “I Wanna Know What Love Is”

And of course, if you were there, then surely you were invited to the afterparty at Illegal D’s house. For the uninitiated, our afterparty had the following:

• Strippers getting their asses smacked from friends and strangers alike.
• Yayo.. If you’re white. Yeyo, if you speak spanish (yayo means grandfather). Or, if you’re smart (and spanish speaking), it’s llello.
• Hot chicks doing kegstands.. Who’d have thunk?
• Be drunks
• Killing the lights, and just feeling.
• Your first kiss.
• Mike damning his liver with Patron and Absinthe.
• JB was there! For more than ten minutes! Hours even!
• Matt losing his virginity (unconfirmed rumor)

• Illegal D’s generous heart (almost as big as his hatred for mankind.)
• Lots of girls! And in almost an even ratio! I guess girls feel safe under the ever-stalkful eyes of Werewolf.
• MySpace friends! It’s just like viewing girls’ profiles from your home computer, except they’re real and in front of you! From every angle, not just the “good” ones! And also you’re still scared to talk to them.

All in all, it was a party from 10:00 at the show to whenever the fuck the afterparty ended (usually well after sunrise.) We always have afterparties after our Caterie shows, so when you come next time, get a flyer with directions and show the fuck up. Come wet and leave wasted.

1. You get to perform in the same footsteps of other legendary artists such as Rob Thomas, Jewel, Jonny Lang and The Chee Weez.
2. Fuckin’ huge backstage area fully stocked with alcoholic beverages, exotic finger sandwiches and a vegetable tray complete with ranch dressing.
3. Get paid assdickloads of money.
4. Put all that money on black.
5. Lose.
6. Repeat.

The place was friggin’ huge(and expensive)! Sound check:

Fun stuff that happened that night:

1. Using Lionel Richie’s unused meal compensation tickets.
2. Tequila!
2b. Going to Fast Eddie’s and watching Ill D down the hugest, massivest plate of chili cheese fries ever.

3. Signing my first pair of huge breasts.
4. Seeing “She wants your number! —->” written on a girl’s hand and then watching her lick it off so she could write “& her & her & her & her!”
5. Giving autographs and continuing to never understand why.
6. Doing a Patron body shot from the stage off of a single mother.
7. Taking every free amenity from the backstage area as we could.

The show went really well, and the sound was fantastic. We totally trashed our voices and still managed to play a wedding the next night. We’re totally becoming a full-fledged wedding band these days. I feel like we’ve played a wedding every weekend for the past couple months. I sold a bunch of shirts at that last wedding. Nothing is sacred.
Remember The Caterie show next week, BR peeps:

Um. It was fucking crazy as shit. We were thinking it was going to be a small intimate ordeal, much like my post meal orgies. But instead, it titsploded into full blown pandemonium, much like my pre-bowel movement orgies. And also I’m tired.

Here’s the line out front :

Here we go. This one is inside:

We played. and then took a break. People were fucking everywhere. and also they were located everyplace:

Set two. More insanity. I seriously thought the tables would collapse under the weight of the people dancing to our music sounds.

We became overrun. Mike was trampled and I escaped on Ill D’s shoulders. There are instruments somewhere in these pics.

We rock rack rolk and then the cops shut us down. Over 1500 people showed up to look at me.

Then dog attack.

…ever

[JB] – Nothing new to write about. I just want to look at myself on here. This was taken right after manual palm to genital congress. Got a little on my neck.

Oh, wait. Here’s something totally unrelated and irrelevant, but nonetheless fucking awesome: a prison drug-mule beauty pageant.

Click here

Take special note of picture 9. It appears for the talent portion of the competition, the pageant contestant actually had a mule shit her out! Genius. That totally trumps the entrance we used at the Varsity show.
I love prison bitches, and this is the cat’s pajamas as far as I’m concerned. To be clear: these are women who’ve been arrested for swallowing condoms full of drugs, hopping on a flight to deliver themselves and then shitting out the drugs. Shitting the drugs out of their ass. Not shitting turds, shitting condoms. I’m so horny.