GWAR, Me, and the Onrushing Grip of Death: Part 6

Well, I’m back! I went on vacation, and it’s over, so it’s time to get my nose out of the coke-pile (it’s all gone anyway) and back into the grindstone, start scraping the bong and become the broke-ass artist I was before I blew all of my money pretending I was rich. This episode: Back in the Saddle, or at Least Under the Horse…

Back in the Saddle, or at Least Under the Horse


Oderus on Fox News’s Red Eye

Well, I’m back! I went on vacation, and it’s over, so it’s time to get my nose out of the coke-pile (it’s all gone anyway) and back into the grindstone, start scraping the bong and become the broke-ass artist I was before I blew all of my money pretending I was rich. But that’s what vacations are all about, right? You save up your cash and go to a magical, all-inclusive kingdom of endless buffets and bikini-clad nubiles…for a week or so. Then you are broke as shit again. Was it worth it? Hell yeah!

I was really on a roll with this column, and it might take a while to get it going again. So bear with me as I get my shit together. This one might not be as fudge-packed as you may like, but you know there is plenty of shit up there.

I apologize deeply for missing the last installment, but I needed a break. This year has already been packed with drama and action—and its been a hell of a lot better than the start of last year, when I almost croaked on my bedroom floor, my body poisoned with narcotics, surrounded by EMTs, slobber blurbling down my face as I screamed repeatedly “HELP ME PLEASE I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”

Well, I didn’t, and so far, this year has been a big improvement over the last. The fact that I’m not in a pine box being feasted on by maggots is a big plus! Even the quality of life between right now and the way I felt when I started writing this column has improved substantively. And when I say quality, I figure it like this: if you took a bunch of different indicators of life’s joy, like how interesting my work is, how good the food tastes, where/ how I am sleeping, my sex life, and my financial situation…what else…oh, how I am shitting…VERY important (especially after coming through a period of about two years where I could not make a solid one) – Ok, if you took all these things, threw in what new toys have I have recently acquired, and discovered that most/ all of them were either acceptable or even awesome then you would be one happy mother scratcher! And that would be me, because with the exception of one category, I seem to be doing quite nicely here! But I am not indulging in a bunch of self-congratulatory flab-jabbing. I recognize all too well that at any moment everything could turn to shit. As a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, I can never forget that. I am simply recognizing that good stuff is popping off all over and life has been wonderful enough to give me another chance. But unless I am on top of my game things could flail-out quickly. So now is a good time to pause and reflect on what has been done, what has yet to be… and hopefully how to do it right.

Vacation was good. I went somewhere beautiful with some people that love me, and I love back with all my heart. That’s all you get of that. Then it was back to R-town to hook up with The Lurker and go out to the World Series of Poker in Las Vegas, to cheer on my buddy Buddha-Buddha (I love making up nicknames for my friends), who had won his way into the event through a satellite event. He had just busted out of the tournament but still had his suite at the Rio so we went to console him and ourselves at the Rio’s famous all-you-can-eat seafood buffet. Its truly a testament to the disparity of our society when many lower income families can barely afford to give their kids macaroni, but here we have hordes of fatsos and their fatter wives (nothing against them, except they are disgusting, and they have even fatter kids…) shelling out 40 bucks a pop to gorge themselves on mountains of sushi and shellfish in the middle of the desert. But then again, nothing about Vegas makes much sense.

While I was there I did my third episode of Fox News Red Eye, a late-night news spoof hosted by the delightfully miniature Greg Gutfeld, former MAXIM editor. I am not quite sure how I ended up with this gig, all I know is that I have parlayed my first appearance into two more, and have somehow gained the title of “Interplanetary Correspondent.” My face (my hideous, meaty, Oderus face) appeared on the Fox website right next to Bill O’Reilly’s, and in fact my spots have been the most watched video clips of the week. Does this mean I am rich or even any better off? Of course not. Such events are invariably chalked off as “good publicity” and therefore any cash handed out would be redundantly rewarding.

But the Red Eye thing is just another sign that big things are happening for GWAR. This whole summer has been a blur of me traveling to one press event to another, all the while with my ass hanging out. One weekend I am terrorizing the Fangoria Convention in NYC, the next I am choking out Tracy Smothers at some bizarre West Virginia Wrestling Federation event. Then it’s back to the Slave Pit to work feverishly preparing for GWAR’s first ever appearance at Wacken, Germany’s largest metal festival. And right around the corner– for twenty years we have tried to get GWAR into the San Diego ComicCon, and for twenty years we have been less-than-politely refused. This year Vice Magazine and Electronic Arts are paying us ass-loads of cash to be there.

We’re back with Metal Blade, and the new album is set to drop August 18th… and damned if it isn’t our best yet. Guitar Hero is calling about “Gor-Gor”, and…who knew? The very band I was bitching about riding around in stretch Humvee’s (yes, a complete lie…), Richmond’s other hometown heroes, Lamb of God, are re-paying the favor we did them years ago (taking them out on their first major tour) by taking us out on their gi-normous fall-winter tour!

Could it be that after 25 years of endless labor and soggy shorts, wretched excess and lost Grammys, that GWAR could actually be on the verge of the commercial success which we have always lacked? That maybe we can actually hook up these loyal slaves with not only with free pizza, but a decent salary, or even a health care plan? That perchance they can stop blaming me for listening to my bloated lies and wasting the better part of their lives?

It’s been like jerking off for 25 years and not blowing a load… but what is that tickling feeling… is GWAR getting ready to come for real, and not just blow a bunch of water with coffee creamer mixed in it? Could it be that maybe… just maybe… things would be different this time?

Probably not. But goddamn it, that’s the nature of the beast. Every time you think you are going to make a breakthrough, they just give you enough to think that maybe you will next time. And that’s just enough to keep you going… until you lie broken and wasted on the rocks of your own demise.

But wait… for those of you who have been reading these episodes, and who are wondering where the hell are the disgusting stories about all the crazy shit I used to get up to… well, you are gonna have to wait until the next episode. Too much has happened in the last couple weeks for me to report clearly on what the hell came before now. So this one has just been to get me caught up again, and get back in the groove of pecking out my life story on my trusty Toshiba laptop. I promise I will be back in two weeks and we will pick up right where we left off—I believe I was about ready to introduce you to my gay brother, bring you along through the birth of punk rock, and explain why Ian Makaye is such a fucking asshole. Hell awaits!


(Confused? Get caught up with Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.)

  • error

    Report an error

Dave Brockie

There are 9 reader comments. Read them.