The No-Name Orangutan

So yesterday I had the most delightful day out with my girlie. First we went to the Mermaid Parade at Coney Island and hung out with our friend Colyn at the ocean in the sun and shade. Then after a ride through the haunted house, a walk past the freak show, some horrible pizza and all the island’s oddities Bobby (yes, that’s her name) and I took the train back to midtown and got some decent pizza and hung at Union Square, and what a fuckin’ day it was at the Square yesterday!

There were Peepers, and Gravers and baby scenesters, and the Garbage King, and Ram and everyone who comes to the park to entertain me and my darling.

But by far the highlight of the visit for me was when one of the Gravers whom I am quite familiar with from over the past 6 years finally, after many threats and promises to Skater Bob, got the nerve to confront me about his photograph on my site (Amazing Strangers pg 62 “The Evil Twin of Spring Love.”)

Ever since I first found out this particular Graver has been going up to Skater Bob and telling him he doesn’t know if he wants to shake my hand or punch me in the face and he’s got 15 guys who are after me, I have been referring to him as the Orangutan, because he looks like a fucking Orangutan! And the Orangutan has a long history of making a spectacle of himself around town.

Anyhow, the long overdue meeting happened yesterday evening and it was priceless. He started off saying “hey Bob, you don’t know me, but I’m on your site and I wanted to tell you a couple things,” or something to that effect. (if anyone who was there cares to remind me how this all went down your recollections are welcome, ie Bobby, Richie Rich, Trash & Vaudeville graver, Orangutan, whoever).

I said hello to him and asked him his name to which he replied, “I don’t want you to know my name,” then he said to me “you have a couple pictures of me on your site and I am going to ask you to remove them. I’m in a band and I can’t have pictures like that out there.”

To which I replied, “First of all, if you’re gonna come to Union Square and make a spectacle of yourself you better expect to be made a spectacle of.”

Then he said, “I have a question for you. Do you even know where the word Graver comes from?!”

Jesus Christ! Do I know where the word Graver comes from??

“Yes I do. It’s a goth raver.”

“Okay, so maybe you know that…”

“I know all about you guys, from back when you were the Order of the Dragon gang at the Cube…”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve been around since The Cube. We weren’t a gang. It was a group of us that…”

“But I read what was written on that electrical box and you were a gang! Okay, you were a club.”

“We weren’t a gang, or a club, it was some of us who…”

“You sounded like a gang to me picking a fight with the ravers. I’ll tell you one thing, I’ll believe that electrical box before I believe you! And now you’re all in the Union Square FightClub! I read it in the paper!”

“We’re not fight club! We never called ourselves that!”

“But I saw it right there in the papers! UNION SQUARE FIGHT CLUB it said!”

“It’s not a fight club!”

“Yeah, I know. And the Order of the Dragon isn’t a gang and you’re not a graver and fight club isn’t fight club.”

So that went on for a bit, me trying to confuse the matter and such. He preceded to tell me how he’d talked to Skater Bob about he didn’t know whether to… “Yeah yeah, I know. ‘Shake my hand or punch me in the face.’ Bob’s kept me up-to-date with all the messages you told him to tell me.”

My gf, Bobby, started to get a little riled by his empty threat to maybe one day punch me and pretty much was ready to kick his ass herself. Then he told me to remove his pictures off the site again, and that’s when I felt the need to lecture him.

“Listen. You cannot expect to come out to the park like this and make a spectacle of yourself with your Fightclubbing and Order of the Dragon gangs, and not have a sense of humor enough about yourself to get your balls busted. “

“I do have a sense of humor about myself but…”

“Not if you’re telling me to take down a picture I took of you.”

“Well, I also need to have it taken down because I’m in a band and they reserve the rights to my pictures.”

“And your label might sue me if I keep the picture posted?”

“Suing you would be unnecessary…”

“Oh, c.mon.”

“And just so you know we’re putting a YouTube video about you on the internet to see how you like it!”

“Haha! I love it! I would love if you did that!”

“What do you do anyhow? Sit and take picture at the park all day?”

“You think I wouldn’t adore having you guys go through the trouble of making a video of me? And just so you know I also sell Jesus magnets on the internet,” I said quite cockily.

So finally, after he saw I wasn’t gonna stop with the lectures about him not being able to take a ball busting, he reached out to shake my hand and said, “So I’m gonna do what I said I was gonna do. Shake your hand and say “Fuck You,” and he walked away.

And I said. “You better get a sense of humor about yourself. I’m not gonna ask you to take your ‘fuck you’ back. I don’t care!”

And he was gone.

It was neat.

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Peeper almost hits me!

I just now returned from Union Square where I almost just got hit by a Peepers!

So I’m there with Bob and a friend of his and of course there’s a couple Peepers standing over by the garbage can peeping at two girls in skirts who’re sitting a few people down from us. So I get up and walk over behind one of the peepers and snap a picture of the back of his head peeping with the girls in the background.

I sit back down and I guess I was pretty obvious because then the one Peeper who was standing way behind me when I took the picture starts trying to stare me down. He’s looking at me with really squinty eyes to where it was difficult to tell if his eyes were even open.  So I sit there talking to Bob and his friend about Peepers and other stuff and then I look over and the Peeper is scratching his nose with his middle finger, giving me the bird! So I say to Skater Bob “Hey look Bobo, he’s giving me the finger!”

And Bobo says, “Take a picture!” like he always says.

So I look at the guy and sorta give the international hand gesture for “Can I take a picture of you?” And he sorta nods his head, but now looking back he was more jerkin his head like someone who’s pickin a fight with me for being a wise-ass.

I pull out my cam and he starts walking to me, and I say “No, you gotta stand back if you want me to get a picture of it!” And he comes and stands in front of me (I’m still sitting) and he’s not saying anything and I say “What?? I wanted to get a picture of that!”
Then he sorta fake moves his arm at me like he’s gonna hit me, but he clearly wasn’t, but jolts his fist at me, and he walks behind me sorta mumbles something asking if I’m a homo then he walks away, and Bobo is laughin saying “He was gonna hit you Bobo!” (Yeah, we call each other Bobo. I know it’s confusing).

Anyhow the guy walks away and is on the other side of the park now, and interestingly enough a couple of the other Peepers go over to him and look like they’re mad at him. They looked like they were yelling at him and then walking away angry. I figured they were saying “If you hit that guy all those friend of his will do whatever, yadda yadda yadda” but my girlie said it was more likely them mad at him for not hitting me.

I’m not exactly sure what will happen if I get hit by a peepers, but I’ll be sure to fill everybody here in if it happens.

Jesus Dressup is beating out Wikipedia!

Type in “Jesus” into Google and guess who’s not only 2, but also beating out Wikipedia! Yes, I really am this easy to please! Does that mean people care more about my dressup than the actual definition of Jesus? I realize that there’s no controllable logic or understandable sense to the decisions Google.com makes on a daily basis, but this one makes my day.

That all said, lemme also trumpet the visit to Kentucky I’m making in a couple weeks! Boy am I excited to go there, and they’re excited as hell to be hosting me that weekend! I’ve never been to KY so I have very little idea of what to expect when I get there. I do know that I’m pretty sure I’m gonna get a tattoo at Electric Devil Tat (the place that’s hosting me), and I have to admit I’m only partially decided on what I’m getting, and where. I’ll let you all know afterwards.

Anyhow, I just wanted to let you all know I’m here still, I just haven’t felt like blogging anything until now. Google Jesus. I love when this happens.

Medusa’s Circle/Unholy Army Tour, Chicago

Medusa's Circle storefront sign
Medusa’s Circle storefront sign

On November 29th, 2007, in the city of Chicago, history was made. Because on that Thursday evening, at Medusa’s Circle in Wrigleyville, Trisha Star and I officially launched the Normal Bob Smith Unholy Army Tour. And it was indeed one for the record books!

Medusa’s was the perfect starting point for our inked-up, glam-a-billy, Heaven vs Hell battle-royal-to-the-death-scapade! If you’re anyone who’s anyone and you’ve even passed through Chicago you know about Medusa’s Circle, and Pier & Lora made me and everyone who came for the magnet signing feel right at home. There was champagne, 8X10s, fans young and old, for the hour between 6 and 7. I posed in pictures with some of the most adorable people you could only hope to meet when you’re the Prince of Darkness in a slim-fitted tuxedo and platform shoes.

No joke, I seriously have the cutest, friendliest, sharpest fans, and it was a delight to meet each and everyone of them, then actually having some quiet before the storm to socialize with like-minded peeps with a sense of humor. But it was a quick hour, and before I knew it I was being whisked off into the night for a brief sigh of content, a drink, and red carpet treatment at the legendary underground nightclub, Neo.

medusas_neo

Okay, so you know how when you go out for evening of cocktails and you clearly remember being nothing but a perfect gentleman, impressing everyone with your sophistication and class, then exiting at a respectable hour leaving everyone wanting more of your charm, but then afterwards when you see pictures of yourself you notice that instead were a sweaty, meat-hooked, pelvic-thrusting impregnating machine who’s every parent’s nightmare? Well let me tell you about my night at Neo.

At NEO with JDU

First of all, if you’re Satan, and you wanna be treated like one of the Top 4 gods that you are, and your crew given the kind of respect you can only get when Devil’s Business is your main objective, then Neo is the place to deliver yourself. And I want to give Unholy Schoolgirl And a gargantuan black-lipped kiss “Thankyou” for setting us up with our own corner to hatch our twisted plan and look like mutha-fuckin’ playahs at the main table with all the shorties a pimpin’ love-machine could dream of. And, Boy-Christ, we gave everyone what they were askin’ for, and more!

Normal Bob dancin

Listen. I didn’t stand a chance. The second we got there the doors flung open, and there was a giant bouncer there sayin’ “Welcome Satan.” And we were waved right in, and before I could even figure out which end was up naughty schoolgirls were buying me shots and pushing their backsides into all my special places! How do you get your brain to catchup with your bone when you’re thrown in that haphazard? People, I didn’t even bother. And whether I like it or not there’s pictures on the internet to prove it.

I forgot how much I love to dance! Jesus Christ, when I lived in Chicago I used to go out dancing 4 times a week! In New York they’ve got these outdated cabaret laws that make it ILLEGAL to dance! No joke! Look it up! So there was no holding my ass to the barstool when those 80s back-beats started thumpin’! And Mary-n-Joseph-n-Baby-J, the skirts got their FREAK ON when my hooves hit the dance floor! I seriously need to call a couple of those play-things and find out whether or not I’m gonna be a daddy!

Normal Bob & Trisha Star
Normal Bob & Trisha Star

I am so thankful I have Trisha Star playing for my team and keeping an eye on me. I know how to find serious trouble when I’m up to my   horns in beautiful babes, and intoxicating sounds and beverages. If these things are only going to get bigger and better as we go then I’m in fucking trouble! I should probably consider getting a vasectomy.

But it was seriously the greatest night! We were selling magnets by the handfuls, people were thanking me for the site, all while I was keeping the tables and bar stocked with GOD IS FAKES and Jesus Dressup flyers. Then they’d all be gone the next time I circled and in people’s hands while they were laughing and having more fun than anyone in Heaven. There was a rich vibe in the air, and the appreciation was for real. It felt great to be back in this home again… surrounded by hot schoolgirls… with about 10 hard drinks upside my head.

medusas_schoolgirl

Hey, I’m not kiddin’ about the overload. I was going to Ang’s bar to order ice-waters, and getting them served to me with a side of Jagermeister with a couple schoolgirls at the end of the bar waving-n-winking ’cause it’s on them!  Of course I’d completely forget to even look at the ice water, down the shot(s), and continue until the ice-waters I’d once ordered “responsibly” blended seamlessly into the empty shot glasses and ashtrays. Thus, the cross-eyed, shiny-faced red devil standing before you.

My dancing shoes were set to Eleven up until about 3:30 in the morning. Then, alone, I stumbled out into the night and hailed a cab. And when the cabby asked me why it was that I dressed like I was, I replied: “Because I’m Satan, and I’ve had a lot to drink and I just need to go home.”

Artist, Atheist, Anthropologist