A-Because if it was invented anywhere else it would be called the teeth-brush!
-As told by Baker.
People in Charlestown, West Virginia are mutant-ly huge. I'm kind of a tall guy myself, standing at 6"1', but there wasn't one person at the venue I would dare size up in my right mind. Baker(also over 6 foot tall) and I were of the smallest guys at the venue, even if you combined both of our mass together we wouldn't stand a snow flakes chances in hell against these men, or even some of the women. Fortunately for us, once we got beyond the locals hardened shells, everyone was pretty jolly and not quite what we expected out of the people at a hip hop show in Wild and wonderful West Virginia.
B. Rude, of Dinosaur Burps(and formerly of Rabble Rousers) had been someone whose name traveled further than he did. All along the East Coast and Mid-West I had been hearing his name for years now. Even in Pittsburgh he dared to challenge my fan-base of degenerate skateboarders with Thrasher tattoos who occasionally listen to hip hop, all without often leaving his humble home of West Virginia. B. Rude seemingly sticks to mostly shows in Charlestown and Huntington these days. So we knew we had to play with him at his home turf to get the full effect.
Neither Baker or I had played anywhere in West Virginia, or even knew many people that had. On top of that, of the few people we knew(who mostly played in Morgantown) most had bad experiences. When I asked JT(Greenlander) how his first WV show with PT Burnem and MC Homeless went the only advice he left me with was, "Don't let some guy named 'Sketch' who lives in a van in the Wal-Mart parking lot book you a show." So needless to say my tour mate and I were not only a little skeptic about the show beforehand, we became even more so stressed when we showed up to a metal venue speckled in attendance with grizzly men who had a very hard pressed, unconventional hip hop attendee, appearance.
The night ran smoother than we could have predicted. The venue was stocked with a receptive crowd that kept growing in size and morale as the night progressed. And our stereotype of West Virginians was crushed as we rocked our songs to an audience with a full set of teeth and high school diplomas(not in hand necessarily, but after talking to them you could tell they were more educated than the embedded stereotype led us to believe).
We got hosted for the night by one of B. Rudes friends(I forget his name, sorry), who was by coincidence one of the only other person at the venue in our weight class. He offered us his bed to share, and looking around at the hardwood floor that resembled our sleeping arrangements of the prior night in Columbus we shamelessly accepted. Our host stood in the doorway of the room as a magpie would, half coning us to sleep half telling us not to worry about his flee infested cat whose asshole has a ring of flee eggs surrounding it because flees really weren't to big of a deal and that he had them all his life and wasn't bothered by it, he told us what drugs he has dabbled in, he told us of his three-piece band, his upcoming move to Thailand, and lastly he told us how to flush his makeshift toilet in case nature called, all while we drifted in and out of consciousness. In the morning I had to take a shit and accidentally left him with a floater because I couldn't recall his instructions. If we had stayed with any of the other behemoth men who could have crushed me like one of the peanuts in my crap you can bet your ass I would have done all I could not to leave any evidence in their bowl behind. But in this case, I liked my odds, and left some presents behind without much effort.
Poetic
Baker
Stillborn Identity
Dinosaur Burps
@ The Blue Parrot Friday September 7th, 2012
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