“AHHHHH. Yo, man what ya be doin tryin clamber all bloody in me cab like dis?”, exclaims the dreadlocked cabbie in a deeply set Caribbean accent as I plop myself in the back seat. “What happen to ya, ya get al blasted up an runover by a bus or sometin?” ‘Let me explain’, I say as I glance up into the rearview mirror and stare into the eyes of what appears to be a dimly dome lit meat Popsicle.
You see my birthday tends to be that one day of year, much like everyone else; I want to be special and full of great memories. Hanging out with close friends, downing a 5th of Jack on a rickety bar top, and maybe getting a lil’ action if I stumble across a sorority girl with self esteem issues because one arm is shorter than the other. But this year I decided to spice things up a bit. I would spend my special evening shooting a fanciful event full of drugs, homo-erotic sex acts, and murder. No silly, I’m not talking Randy Newman at Sea World. I’m speaking of GWAR at Comic Con 09’.
To be fair, I’m not a huge fan of the music of GWAR, mainly because I couldn’t tell you within in reason just what in the hell is being grunted on any of their albums in the last 25yrs. But aesthetically, it is rumored that this is one of those shows you have to attend in your lifetime. So, I packed a specialized dive bag for my rig, and set off into a cyclone of madness which can only be equated to the last battle scene from “300.” Please excuse the shoddy workmanship of the images, there is a certain inebriant complication of shooting with a camera housed in a duffle bag whilst being hosed down in pseudo-blood by a headless Obama. Enjoy.
















