Sex, Drugs, And Bubblegum Pop is the most outlandish column on UTG. Written by Mr. Jayce, vocalist for Secret Secret Dino Club and all-round funny guy, this column isn’t as much about the music as it is the experiences people in the music industry have.
WARNING: This column does and will continue to contain content some readers may find offensive. If you don’t have a sense of humor, this column is probably not for you.
Hey guys, I have to apologize for my short absence from writing this column. I guess life kinda got in the way. Not the fun kind of life where I do stupid shit and get praised for it like usual though. It’s been an odd transition from living on the road full time to like living in one place for a while and just writing songs for/with people. I enjoy both aspects of my life but I’m sure I’ll be on the road again soon enough.
I went to the Van’s warped tour this year, which was okay I guess. I was extremely hung over and not wanting to party in the sun all day. Somehow I got roped into some bizarre poker game with the warped tour elite and was force fed free beers for a while until my hungover-ness turned into tipsy and annoyed. There’s only so many offers for free hugs from people with paint all over their bodies a man can take. Does anyone know what the intentions really are of the free hug program? Why has it been around for so many years. Does anyone actually take the hugs? Gross. If I ever had a daughter who acted like the girls at the warped tour, I would debate pretending I never had her. Also I would divorce my wife because she was responsible for half of it.
As Warped Tour got darker, everyone started getting weirder and more drunk. This is when something really disturbing happened to me. I have not been able to stop thinking about it. It plagues my mind. A very nice girl walked up to me and introduced herself and told me she had to tell me something really awkward. I should have just walked away but I kept listening. She went on to tell me about a time she hooked up with a guy who said he was me. Apparently he kind of looked like me so he just did his research and full on pretended he was me. This poor girl totally fell for it too.
So many questions come to mind. Why would someone want to be me? Do you really think being me will get girls to sleep with you? Who are you that being me is a better option than being you? I’m sure if this guy had seen our tour videos he probably would have changed his mind. I wonder if this guy knew that a picture of his new dick was flaccid on isanyoneup? Is he like the president of my fan club? Is he going to shoot me when I walk outside of my house today?
I don’t want to know who this guy was but I hope he’s reading this and feeling really sad. Like “eat a tub of neapolitan budget ice cream and watch The Notebook” sad. It must be really pathetic to have to pretend to be someone else. There’s already too many of me. Perhaps one day we will meet and challenge to the death for the right to being me. I thought I was born with that but apparently not.
Totally unrelated but, someone asked me recently to write about the worst place I’ve ever slept. A few things came to mind. The attic of a Rite Aid. Dining table in an Arby’s. But worse than those was probably 2-3 years ago after CMJ. I was at the Purevolume house with some friends and things got pretty out of hand. For some reason all music festivals just love to give out energy drinks with vodka in them. So you drink a million of them and you act like some sort of wilder-beast. A few of my friends had gotten kicked out of the party and I was supposed to go back and stay with some other friends in Brooklyn. I had a writing session in the morning so I was only crashing for a couple hours then I had to leave. The people at the house I was staying at got into some sort of fight and I could no longer stay there. It was about 4am and I had no idea where to go because I was counting on staying here. A friend of a friend at CMJ offers for me to stay in her apartment, even though she didn’t have much room. I’m used to sleeping in bath tubs or whatever so I didn’t care.
We travel deep into Brooklyn and get back to this house where I can hear two people brutally banging from outside. We go in and low and behold, the people banging are in the room we are staying in. These people do not stop banging when we come in. The room was about a foot bigger than the queen size air mattress in the room. I had come back with a girl and a guy she was hooking up with. So now there are 5 people in this room the size of a mattress. I’m so tired that I lay down on the side of the mattress and try to go to sleep despite the people banging 6 inches from me. About 20 minutes later I kept getting kicked in the head by someone. I looked up and all 4 people were jamming on the bed ruthlessly. So I layed there for the rest of the night on the hardwood floor with my muscle as my pillow listening to these people have an orgy three inches from me while kicking me in the head. That’s the worst place I’ve ever slept.