I Was A Teenage Murder Junkie pt.3: Here Come The Cops

As suddenly as they were switched off the stage lights burst back on. The confused and intoxicated crowd mingled around desperately trying to figure out what the fuck was going on with the on and off again lights. Just then the basement door flung open with such impact that when it slammed against the wall it sounded like a goddamn concussion grenade. The Bar/Club owner bum rushed into the room like a bull released from its pen at a rodeo. He strode to the middle of the room and promptly announced that do to “The Destructive Behavior Bullshit” and ” A Totally Fucked Up Band Lead By A Bald Degenerate Fucking Nightmare” was shutting the show down immediately. This did not bode well with the fans in the least. Instantly the Owner (and the 4 or five bouncers he had brought with him to work security, mainly his own) was plunged into a barrage of insults, violent threats, and pro GG Allin rhetoric. Needless to say the Owner made an extremely hasty retreat back upstairs to his bar. GG then took this pause in the pandemonium to address the crowd.

“Fuck is this Shit?! We want to keep playing but these motherfuckers keep cutting the power! The owner wants to shut our show the fuck down, do you want us to stop?!” GG yelled belligerently at the still awe struck audience. The unanimous answer of the crowd rang out like riot as fans screamed over each other like methhead auctioneers.

“FUCK NO!”, “GG IS GOD!”, “FUCK THIS SHIT!”, “RIOT TIME MOTHERFUCKERS!”, “WE WANT BLOOD!”, “BLOOD FOR YOU!”, “EAT MY FUCK!” and so on and so forth.

This incited GG like gasoline being pissed on a fire. GG was scowling in intense hatred apparently for everything and everybody present. GG was pacing the stage back and forth like a caged fucking animal as he quickly picked up his pace. GG grabbed a crushed beer can from the side of the stage and then used it to slash his torso preparedly  like some primitive caveman’s knife.

From what I had reseated about GG Allin this kind of shitshow common occurrence at GG’s concerts. GG Allin concerts/shows on average only lasted 15-20 minutes total before (like now) the Club owner cut the power or the venue was stormed by the police. GG had been at this point in career to be arrested 52 times for lied acts, indecent exposure, obscenity and even shitting on stage. I had watched the infamous GG Allin documentary films called “Hated: GG Allin and The Murder Junkies” by a young Todd Phillips in 1994 (a year after GG’s death due to surprise, surprise a Heroin Overdose on June 28th 1993) In the documentary GG’s older brother Merle Allin and bass player for The Murder Junkies is interviewed rather extensively throughout. In one of the interview clips Merle even states this fact further.

Merle commented that”When you went on tour (with GG) you never expect to finish the tour and thats for one of two reasons either The Hospital or Jail.” referring to the fact due to his stage show GG not only could/would be arrested , but due to his intense performances GG could also just as easily end up in the ER.

Thats when a small calvary of cops started to slowly file into the basement show venue like the fucking gestapo. Apparently the Owner had fled back upstairs and called in the cops ASAP to bail him and his Bar out of serious trouble. The crown seemed to split into to distinctly different groups this point. The one group were the ambivalent and angst filled Anarchistic fans who stood their ground while antagonizing the cops relentlessly. The second group were the polar opposite as the scrambled for any exit out of the show before getting beaten and arrested by the militant police personnel.

My buddy and coworker Chuck has decided being antiauthoritarian to the core of his basic being was siding with those who chosen to enter into the escalating conflict with the cops. Meanwhile my other friend and coworker Mike and I agreed it was in our best interest to skedaddle like our lives depended on it.

While the insanity ensued The Murder Junkies stood on the stage just a confused as anyone else caught up in the may lay. GG had abandoned the stage and immersed himself in the crowd to avoid initial detection by the conclave of cops. A handful of GG’s hardcore fans had grouped up and were now attempting to get GG out of the building before being apprehended by the asshole authorities.

 

“GG Over here, Over Here GG Come on lets get you the fuck outta here” yelled the group of hardcore fans desperately trying to get GG’s attention, and aid him in his escape from prosecution. Finally at last GG’s then girlfriend Liz (who was leading the group) managed to grab GG”s arm and redirect him. The problem was while the escape group comprised of die hard fans had united and caught up with their quarry still had no real plan for escape. The motley crew of super fans circled around GG and were aimlessly migrating through the crowd towards the stage at the back of the room (being the farthest point away from increasing police presence). Once they reached the stage GG pushed and shoved his way over to his brother Merle who was still standing on the right stage smoking a cigarette. Mike and I figured GG and his Mega Fans were experts at exactly this, and being we too wanted to bail the fuck out for the identical reason figured it be wisest to follow them. We managed to make our way through the small sea of human bumper cars to the back of the room by the left side of the stage.

By now the the fight the power fans  were locked in full on combat with the cops. Swearing at cops had turned into swinging on the cops. Beer bottles were being pelted at the police along with anything else that wasn’t bolted down. The police retaliated with excessive amount of mace and then upped the ante by taking their tazers out. As the first few fans were rendered enabled by the first wave of tazings the crowd got crazier. Fans were using chair legs and other various debris to club the cops like police piñatas. Some fans were flailing all over like snakes having seizures as the police used zip ties to restrain them. Others were continuing the chaotic carnage by battling the police, and others already detained and restrained were being led out of the show in a single file line. A security guard of the Owner had been leveled to the ground and was being mercilessly kicked and stomped by a growing gang of blood thirsty violent minded fans. The building noise was reaching a deafening level as all hell and high water had laid complete waste to any as resemblance of a concert.

Mike and I while following GG and his escape artist hardcore fans we had become stuck up against the left side of the stage. We could no longer move having been blocked in by a number of other concert goers who launched into a fan on fan full out fist fight. At this moment I looked over at Mike who shot his gaze up to the actual stage and I instantly knew what he meant. Mike hoisted himself up onto the stage accidentally bumping into the then guitarist for The Murder Junkies William Weber. Mike then helped me as clambered up on stage. The members of The Murder Junkies barely batted an eyelash at us as if to let us know they could care less who the hell we were. We weaved around behind the drum kit and the drummer Dino The Naked Drummer who was vacantly staring off into space or some shit. Once we had achieved moving across the stage Mike grabbed my arm. I asked him what the fuck could he possibly want, and thats when Mike directed my attention to behind the curtain hanging behind Dino. It was hiding the back wall where there to our enormous luck there was loading dock door. Its one of those street level doors you see walking down the street that opens from the basement of the building, and onto the street for receiving deliveries and such. This was the chink in the aggressive storm of utter anarchy that would be our escape to the freedom on the street. Just then Mike did something that surprised the shit out of me and then some. Mike fought his way over to the front right of the stage and blurted out,

“GG! GG! We can get you out right fucking now, COME ON!!”

READERS: Stay tuned For The Final Installment Of This 4 Part Piece.                       I Was A Teenage Murder Junkie pt. 4: The Salvation of the Street                 COMING SOON DATE TBD

Murder And Mayhem At Trump’s Insidious Impromptu News Conference Of Death & Damnation

Have you ever woken up in the morning and the first though you have is that you really want to pick a fight? I have many times and today I decided the person I was to pick a fight with would be the one and only Donald Trump. I ,along with the rest of the American people , have been bombarded by Donald Trump on television, printed interviews/articles in newspapers and magazines alike, Twitter, Youtube, and even radio. I must be clear I hate Donald Trump politically and personally as he is an extremely shitty person to begin with. Now why, or for what reason do I dislike Trump so highly?
Donald Trump looks quite similar to the past 44 presidents (excluding Obama obviously). He dresses in expensive high end suits worth thousands, predominately wears red or blue ties, is a 70 year old white man, and has a rather large belly. That is where the similarities end. Trump’s unique physical characteristic being found in his ungodly fake spray tan that leaves him looking like he has the worst case of jaundice in recorded history. The second primary physical characteristic is his hair which has remained a mystery for so long it can finally been called the 8th wonder of the world.
As for Donald Trump’s personality characteristics they are truly deplorable as he seems to have a Pandora’s box of bad behavior. Trump is a narcissist of Freudian proportions who’s extreme ego borders on megalomania. Also, for being completely ignorant of the American political system, Trump is over opinionated as well as ruthlessly aggressive on every front and every platform because his unquenchable thirst for power and control are unparalleled. For a president, Trump seems ignorant of the issues and takes every negative comment as a personal attack upon his character. Trump’s immature attitude has him tweeting like a tween and seems to cater to his child-like mentality that causes him to have terrible tantrums reminiscent of a 2 year old. Trump also is a sexist who’s views are almost on par with pedophilia. He is a closet racist and blatant anti semite. Trump is not only rude and insulting, but he always remains unapologetic as he points his finger at anyone but himself.
I just so happen to live in Florida and am located so geographically close to Trump’s Mar-a-Lago mansion that when I saw he was due for another visit I decided this was my chance. I drove to the Palm Beach Post newspaper headquarters down in West Palm Beach to meet up with a buddy of mine that works for the paper. He hooked me up with an official press pass and credentials which (unless you were in the know) made me look like a legitimate reporter. I then made my way to the Trump National Golf Club also located in Mar-a-Lago where Trump was due to throw an impromptu press conference. I strolled past the news truck barricade parked directly out front and past the handful of reporters shooting pre news conference pieces. I entered the club’s front door where a large security man who scowled at my press pass before ordering me through a metal detector. On the other side of the metal detector I was met by another rather large looking security man who gave me a pat down that was so intense it was more like a massage. I made my way into the conference room and managed to finagle my way into the 2nd row front and center where I waited for my prey to enter the room.
It didn’t take long before the rest of the press personnel were herded into the conference room like cattle. About a minute later Donald Trump entered from behind a curtain lazily wandering over to the podium as he smiled with self satisfaction. Once behind the podium Trump proceeded to slowly scan the room from side to side with his classically vacant stare. The conference was a fiasco and made little to absolutely no sense at all as Trump dodged questions, made false allegations and rambled on about subjects that weren’t addressed in the news conference. After 45 minutes or so Trump finally wound down his inane diatribe and opened the floor to questions. This was my opening because to fight Donald Trump your best weapon is Donald Trump. All one has to do to pick a fight with Trump is to say anything remotely critical about him and he launches himself into a terrific tirade which surpasses self defense. He then plunges head first into full on attack mode.
By the time fourth or fifth question had been asked Trump was already leaning aggressively forward over the podium his face flushed with outrageous anger. Trump’s facial features had twisted and contorted into an insane mask of rage filled disgust and endless contempt. He was cracking quickly and I knew it was now or never. I raised my hand and was lucky enough to have him call upon me.
I simply asked the president how he plans to make America great again if his bartenders at Trump’s Bar and Grill couldn’t even make a proper cocktail? Without pausing for a millisecond I continued by explaining. A patron of his eating establishment photographed a $22 gin martini because it was served in wine glass filled with a generous handful of ice. I was some unknown brand of gin, and had a very weak looking olive.
This was the straw that broke the Donald’s back as it were. Trump started waving his hands in the air like a demonically possessed air traffic controller screaming at the top of his lungs that in fact, the world has been making martinis wrong, and Trump’s bar staff actually know the correct recipe. Thats when the shit really hit the fan as they say.
Trump’s private security burst open the conference room doors with the force of an atom bomb and came charging in like rabid bulls. Unfortunately the private security team had had a miscommunication issue as to what was happening and who they were supposed to subdue. This miscommunication led Trump’s private security personnel to engage in an all out fucking fist fight with the Secret Service who too where there for the protection of the president. Steve Bannon appeared out of no where holding a copy of “Mien Komf” which he immediately started reading in German. I wanted to punch Bannon in his white nationalist fat fucking face, but I didn’t want my hand to stink of cheap whiskey, sweat and nazi for the rest of the day. Mike Pence, being the giant pussy that he is, had been methodically backing up since the opening of the Q and A to the curtain behind the podium, which he now utilized to hide with only his expensive Italian loafers poking out from the bottom. Reporters scrambled to defensive positions tripping over each other’s camera cords, and misplaced chairs in an attempt to capture as much footage as possible. Kellyanne Conway showed up to pander to the remaining cameras and reporters jumping around like a jack rabbit on crystal meth. Kellyanne was trying in vain to convince the reporters that this was not a riot of any kind, BUT it was a rally born of over exuberance, love and support for Trump. This over exuberance had caused a spontaneous outbreak of fanatical joy and sincere celebration. Moments after appearing on the scene Kellyanne was struck violently on the top of her head in the misguided attack by a Trump supporter armed with a confiscated boom microphone. The boom microphone crashed down upon Kellyanne’s skull with such brute force it split her head in half in a volcanic explosion of blood. Kellyanne’s body wavered a second with her eyes still blinking in such a way it was reminiscent of a Hammerhead Shark before collapsing lifelessly on the floor. Just then I spotted the one person I hate worse than Donald Trump, the British journalist Milo “I will say anything or back anything outrageous for attention” Yiannopoulos who is employed by the GOP to run interference using the most vile propaganda to distract the public from the president. Milo was dressed in a British school boys uniform to accommodate his latest travesty of defending, exuding and virtually promoting pedophilia. My attention was drawn to Yiannopoulos. He was fleeing franticly towards the fire exit at the back of the room when he got knocked flat on his back by an improvised nazi salute from Bannon. I ran over to Milo and informed him I was the vice president of NAMBLA (may all members of NAMBLA be castrated and left to bleed out)and I was here to help him escape. Once Milo was on his feet again I led him to the center of the conference room directly under the industrial fan that was humming like monster truck engine.
Once we were positioned under the gigantic fan I bent down, grabbed Milo behind his legs under his buttocks, and hoisted him strait up into the fury of the fan blades. The fan blades turned Milo’s head, arms and upper torso into minced meat with a shower of blood, bone and body parts raining down upon the entire room. I dropped Milo’s mutilated and mangled carcass and looked back at Steve Bannon. Bannon had worked himself into such a fury he had triggered a massive fucking heart attack. His face as white as his KKK hood, sweating like a pig at the slaughtering house, gasping for air and clutching at his heart with his right hand while still kept on reading. Seconds later Bannon dropped to his knees, explosively shit his pants and fell over dead as a door nail, and his eyes looked like 2 fucking blowfish due to Bannon’s extremely insane blood pressure right before death. The chaos was reaching a climax when I realized if I believed in self preservation this was time to make my exit. Trump’s security had surrounded him and were ushering him out the door with great difficulty because Trump kept stopping to turn around and yell ridiculous claims such as this was a media plot to destroy and discredit him, this is part of the Liberal agenda, this was in all reality fake news, the electoral college, the boarder wall, molesting women, his bank account, Putin and how it was mother Russia marrying father America, questioning Obama’s birth certificate, China hackers that plagued the election, hair care, tanning tips, advertisements for Trump Towers/ Trump casino’s/Trump Hotels, unifying America, Rosie O’Donell, preaching he never once went bankrupt, the annoying planes that fly over his mansion, tweeting, and vast voter fraud. I ducked and weaved my way to and fro, out the conference room door into the foyer. As I made a beeline for the club’s front door I saw radio personality and Trump lover Alex Jones standing in the middle of the foyer like he was the eye of a hurricane. Jones was spouting Trump propaganda and undying support for him, like a deranged circus barker. I couldn’t resist so I got in front of him and when he opened his mouth for another decree I rammed my microphone into it, and then proceeded to jam the microphone as far as humanly possible down his throat into his esophagus rendering Jones silent as well as dead the mic cord hanging out the corner of his mouth like a wayward piece of spaghetti.

As I strode towards my car drenched in blood I thought to myself what a wonderful little riot that was.