Osiris Rising Blog: Ragfest, the Joe experience
By Brian (VoR) VorisekApril 21, 2004
Well, what is there to saye, (yes, there IS an E at the end of that word.)... Let us venture back into the past, about a half a year ago... to Rag Magazine's RAGFEST 2003 at Club Ovation, Boynton Beach, Florida... Some words... Inebriation, intoxication, degradation.. Well, degradation as far as the "real world" goes... For Osiris... Yet another chapter in our wretched history... ...Osiris Rising at Ragfest: Let us not go into detail about this... We came, We saw, We.... Let us leave it there... My mind goes to the point whence the "lesbians" come in. Heh, at some point, we did our preempted set, and so went the evening...
After such, though, our associates, for the most part, left and Joe and I were left, as it is said, "to our devices..." Joe, after, many trips thro' Long Island,' had implored me to sit at the bar, because, indubitably, the 'lesbian' was hitting on him... I made my waye, reluctantly, to the bar, to no avail; yet, I could not help but feel this was indeed true... The next few moments are oblivion to me, as I was broken myself, but not so much that I could not identify this lesbo in any sense(!) And so another woman of ill~culture makes her waye to Joe's presence.. Now, he knew not what was going on, as she attempt'd to make her waye to his... Heart(?) So, it came to be, that after many more drinks and dodging's of said woman, I follow'd Joe to the front of the stage, where the Genitorturers were waxing salaciously of love an' lust...
He collapses RIGHT in front of the stage, on a speaker cabinet... Right in front of the stage as Gen meander'd on an' on, he fell into a trance as only alcohol can incite.. When he finally 'rose he vanish'd from my sight... I caught up with him minutes later, at the far right of the stage, (when facing it,) ...He was climbing up on a wall that extended from the stage itself, attempting to "get to the other side." He is half waye up on this wall, when I inevitably ask.."What are you doing?" He tells me, "I'm trying to get to the other side of the stage." I ask, "Why?" And he responds, "Because I thought it was the best waye to go."
Now, in itself, it may not seem humorous.. But when you think of it, you must imagine the Genitorturers playing away, and Joe off to the side trying to climb up onto the stage, to "get to the other side."
At this time the T~shirt vendor is looking at us quite queerly, he gets down. Again, all is vague to me the proceeding moments, and the next thing I remember is Joe collapsing again upon the cabinet in front of the stage... This time security came to "aid" us, telling me that "usually when someone passes out like this, they drag their ass outside and wait for the cops to pick them up." Luckily, I knew one of the guards there, who came and told the other guys that he knew us and would take care of it... (As an aside... Thanks to him again for intervening!)
...So he tells me to pull my van up in front and meet him and Joe outside. So I rush outside, and get my van, and I pull up thinking that the security guy is going to be carrying Joe out to the van and throwing him into said vehicle... Instead, I pull up and here is Joe, smoking and talking to this guy as if nothing had happen'd! So Joe gets in his car, and I tell him to follow me to his house... We leave the parking lot, and make our waye to US1... We start heading south, and I am in my van, watching him in my rearview mirrors...
Now picture this... I am looking at him in my right rearview, then I followed him to the left rearview, then back to the right, then the left, then back to the right... Finally he remains, but then recedes back an' forth in his car... So I decide that we are going to pull into the Denny's that is coming up and leave his car there, with all his equipment, and proceed to take him home at my own volition... As we are approaching, I turn my right turn signal on about a fucking block away from the restaurant, and as we are pulling into the lot, he rear ends me, ever-so-softly, and we rest at the predestined lot..
He pulls his car in, and goes right over the little "barrier" that they put in each spot.. I get out and go to his car, and he throws the door open, and I tell him, of course, "You pulled over the fucking parking thing," (Should that be hyphenated?) I tell him he needs to pull back over it, and he asks me, "How do I go about doing that?'' Now, I have always driven automatiick, and his car is manual.. So, being me, I tell him Ex-fucking-plitcitly, "Turn the car on, do the clutch, or whatever, and put it in reverse, and back the fuck up." He pauses for a moment, and I ask him, "Do you want me to do it?" And he says no, and does it, bla bla, but then he backs ALLTHEWAYE the fuck up, into the spot directly behind him, and pulls forward into the "proper" spot...
...So we leave in my whimsiickal van, and proceed to Joe's house. I forgot, on the waye there we got fucking lost and ended up in the fucking woods! I saw a rabbit run across the road! Joe insisted that there was a Denny's somewhere along the path... BULLSHIT. Next thing I remember is being around the corner from Joe's house and I realize that I don't have the key to the security gate... So I start, literally, punching the shit out of him, again, to no avail... And so I remember seeing him putting it in his left front pocket, but of course, I was not going to take a trip there if you know what I'm saying... So I propped his head up and repeatedly made U-turns so that his head would hit the passenger window every time I turned.. Sorry. Sorry...
...So I brought him back to my house, and left him in the van, and went to sleep. Now, this was five in the mourning, and he had to be at work at eight. So after an hour of sleep I attempt'd to rouse him from whatever ethereal slumber he was in... Long story short,(Too late.) by the time the story got to his "boss," it was morphed into a tale of Joe passing out DURING our set, and ambulances came and picked him up, and I had to pick him up at four in the mourning! Well, it was better off, because he missed work and they understood, because of the ambulances and hospitals and all... (coughs:: BULLSHIT!)
Anyhow, we didn't get his car until six the next day, and I don't totally remember that either.. Actually, what premise do any of you have to listen to any of this? Trust me, if I tell the story in person, it is much funnier.. But, I assure you, this is truth.. But goddamn it! Ask me in person, because to type it is to really blackout the real humorousness of the whole ordeal.. Besides... I am fucking trash'd right now as I write this... Yet, as I remember that night, no matter how many times I tell the story, it is always funny. And, not to get cheesy on you, I am fucking glad I was there to tell the story... Because I was fucking there.
Rag Magazine October 2003 PDF
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