Operation Hell On Earth

Operation Hell on Earth

In the words of Bonn Scott, “It’s a long way to the
top if you wanna rock n’ roll…” well I can tell you from my
experience that it’s a REALLY LONG way to even the middle if you want
to Rock and Roll, plus probably ain’t gonna get there unless you suck
record company cock! It’s even a longer trip if you are Dick Delicious
and The Tasty Testicles. After years of waiting for some booking agent, management,
label to put us on a real tour – we did what we always do: DIY (Do It
Yourself). Before even leaving we knew it COULD BE a disaster, but what a
disaster it did turn into stretches the mind. Those of you who are in bands,
have a low tolerance for stories of human suffering, or are on the verge of
suicide yourself, you should not read any further.

This is a tale of woe and human misery that will astound…

Part 1: Prelude to Ruin

9:30 AM Xanex Audition – After
spending the last few years being hooked on Xanex and driving all over the
county illegally holding them; I find the phone number of Dr. Feelgood and
decide to make a go of it AND GET MY OWN SCRIPT. My performance of a person
suffering from anxiety is the stuff that will be discussed on “Inside
the Actors Studio” for years to come. Now, I join the fold – the
legal Xanex toting, proud few. Now I can pop ‘em right in front of a
pig, and they can’t do a thing about it! This was about the only thing
that was to go right for the next two weeks.

CRISIS #1: I make a living as an
internet pornographer and am a proud owner of over 80 XXX websites. As a matter
of fact, it is this money that bankrolls a vast portion of this band’s
activities. A few hours before departing for the drive up to Chicago, I checked
something on one of my sites and it wouldn’t come up. I went to my webhosts
site to create a tech support ticket. A screen came up, “WE ARE HAVING
TECHNICAL DIFFICTULTIES” – so I called my hosting company, and the
guy who runs it tells me that my server had been hacked and all of my sites,
including my band’s site had been erased. I told him them to load the
backups (which were supposed to be something they were providing), he told
me that there were none, and they were running a program to recover my discs.
Keep in mind that this is all happening just a few hours before I will be
completely disconnected from being able to use the internet for almost two
weeks riding around the Midwest in a van. I have no employees, for an independent
webmaster – this is a true nightmare of the highest order. So with that
crisis still in tow, we start on our drive to Chicago from Atlanta –
departing at 11 PM after all of the delays. We drive about as far as Indiana
and got a hotel room, using our 325$ budget we had saved up from some local
shows where we actually did get paid for.

Friday 4/11/2003 – Champs
(Chicago) we arrive in the lovely Chicago suburb of Burbank (remarkably similar
to the setting of the movie Gummo) at Champs, already exhausted from the road.
On the marquee is a big sign that says DICK DELICIOUS AND THE TASTY TESTICLES
“HOWARD STERN’S FAVORITE BAND”. Also scheduled to be on the
bill is the Hostile Amish, who supposedly has a huge draw in the area. After
being at the club for a while the idiot prick ass promoter punk shows up and
says the Hostile Amish had to cancel. Still on the bill are Johnny Vomit and
Torg. To make a long story short about 30 or 40 people show up, we play last,
the bartender offers to buy us shots if we will stop playing, we get paid
80 bucks and get a hotel.

Saturday 4/12/2003 – The Agora
(Cleveland) I wake up after a solid nights sleep and I check the voice messages
on my cell phone. It’s the promoter from Cleveland saying that we shouldn’t
even bother to show up for tonight’s gig because one of the guy’s
from the Mushroomhead’s family is having some kind of CD release party
and we should not bother coming because nobody will be there. I explain that
we are on tour and we can’t afford to be taking a Saturday nights off.
He calls back in a few minutes to tell us that he can put us on the bill,
but we need to show up by 6:00 for load-in. I look at my watch, it’s
only 1:00, and Cleveland is only about 350 miles away; we should be able to
make it. We’re hauling ass, everything looks cool – about 100 mile
s outside of Cleveland we get a call from the promoter asking where we are.
I’m looking at my watch; we aren’t even supposed to be there yet!
Then in dawns on me that we had crossed into a new time zone and WE HAD LOST
AN HOUR. We get in the club where the Hostile Amish are playing that night
(who usually have a massive draw) but the promoter had fucked up and not even
advertised either band on the bill. Both bands play really fast sets to some
young kids (a lot of which had been chaperoned by their parents) – who
sit in the audience gasping in disgust at our antics. The prick ass promoter
punk says that he had lost his ass on the show and we get paid zilch, nothing,
zip. The dudes from Hostile Amish invite us to go hang out with them at this
bar a buddy of theirs owns, they hook us up with a shitloads of free beer
and food plus let us crash at their place. Way cool dudes, those Hostile Amish.

Sunday 4/13/2003 The High Point
(St. Louis) Only 567 miles to St. Louis (Nelly Town – home of the St.
Louis Lunatics) we show up at the club at 7:30 to see our buddies (and fellow
connoisseurs of Cocaine and a good time) 24 Reasons Why getting ready to load
in. There are 3 bands playing the bill and we are going on last and the club
has to close by 11:30. We hit the stage about 10:30; I plug up my amp…nothing.
While fiddling around with the amp I managed to break the clasps on my Swiss
army watch – the best watch I’ve ever owned ($400). We mess around
with my amp more…nothing. I ask one of the other guys if I can borrow
their amp, plug it up…same thing – nothing. Switch more chords try
a few more amps…nothing…switch out ever possible combination…nothing,
nothing, nothing, nothing, by this time the clock is running out – finally
some combination of chords and a borrowed Peavey works – at about 11:15,
we play about three songs and then are thrown off stage because the club has
to close. Nobody there can believe the equipment snafu that just happened.
It’s like there were otherworldly forces at work. One of the waitresses
claims that the upstairs of the place is haunted. We go with 24 Reasons back
to the “The Compound” (a famous den of inequity). We get into some
incredibly good devils dandruff (which left our veteran cocaine user running
around the house holding his chest like he was about to have a pulmonary)
and take my amp upstairs to try and see what is wrong. A few blown fuses are
found, plugs up – seems to work fine. The problem was blamed on the power
at the club. That night becomes a long cheese fueled affair, culminating in
different people at the house offering Stu and Hugh a lot of free Xanex.

Monday 4/14/2003 Hairy maries (Demoins,
IA) Drive is 427.5 miles till we pull up in the twilight zone / ghost town
of Demoins, IA…when we pull up at the club we se on the marquees “Dick
Delicious and Dumpster Juice Tonight” – which is all real cool because
DJ has a pretty strong draw at that club. The problem being is, I talked to
Dumpster Juice earlier in the week and an already knew they were not going
to sow, but I didn’t want to call the club to tell them that, fearing
hat they might cancel our gig if that was the case. We set up our gear for
sound check and BANG – the same fucking problem – my amp is blowing
fuses right and left. Since, I already know that another band is not going
to show – I run around the club, begging to borrow and head from anyone
who even looks like they are in a band like some kind of junkie that needs
another fix. For several hours of trying – no luck at all. Finally, about
10 minutes before Showtime some guy comes in with a Marshall Head and lends
it to me, meanwhile another guy takes my head backstage because he thinks
that he can fix it. The show goes pretty well…we think. The guy comes
out from backstage, says my figured out what was wrong with my amp and wants
40 bucks for his time, I tell him no problem, and give him 40$ – plus a 20$
tip – pretty generous. After that he proceeds to lecture me about how
we should cut down on the offensive content, and Jew jokes on stage (our bass
player is a Jew) – this is only a forewarning of what is to come. Apparently
out set really outraged a number of the patrons of the club, including the
owner, some of the wives of the guys in Slipknot, and a local music critic.
It seemed that everyone in the club had some sort of Jewish kid, wife, turned
Jewish all of a sudden. Our argument was that it was all in good fun and you
couldn’t possibly hate Jews if you’ve been in a band with one for
10 fucking years! This logic goes straight over the hated of these Midwestern
cornfed dimwits. Even tough about 75 people showed up and paid 5 bucks a head
the owner hands us 20 bucks and tell us to fuck off. An argument ensues, violence
is about the erupt when the bartender comes out, gives us another 40 bucks,
and some other random dude that liked the show donates us 20 bucks because
he can see how we are getting dicked over and he feels bad for us. Out in
back of the club we pack up the van and wait for the worst. A few people meet
us back there and tell (away from their condcecending peers to tell us that
they like the show) and give us some more Xanex. It’s been a long time
since we’ve really offended an audience like that – you gotta keep
pushing the envelope, I guess.

Tuesday 4/15/2003 7th Street Entry
(Minneapolis, MN) Only a 246 mile drive today – oh joy, what a nice break!
We get in and start a leisurely drive across to Minneapolis. We get about
80 miles out of town and all of a sudden the van backfires and stalls out.
We roll it into a Quik Trip parking lot and start looking under the hood to
try to figure out what the hell happened. Hugh goes inside and gets the number
of a wrecker company to come pick up the van. It is nearing the 5 o’clock
hour so chances are looking pretty slim of being able to fix this one to make
tonight’s gig. When the wrecker guy pulls up, he seems to think that
it is probably the fuel pump, just to check he jumps us off and it starts
– COOL! Thank god, it must have been that power adapter that we had been
using to watch DVDs that fucked up and drained the battery. The guy is pretty
cool, plays guitar and stuff – we give him a few CDs, a tip, and take
off. We barely make it off the exit when the van fucks up again. So, we’ve
got the guys card, we call him back, and he does a test to see if it is the
alternator that is causing the problem. After doing that test he tells us,
“Yep boys, smelling like the alternator.” I ask if there’s
and chance of it getting fixed so we can get back on the road, he say no because
it’s a pretty big job to redo the alternator on an old van. I ask if
there’s any way that we can rent a van, so we can get moving again he
say he doesn’t know because it was getting late, but he could make a
call. He’s sympathetic to our cause, after all. We work it out to where
we can rent a van and come back the next day after the work is done. We rent
the van get in make it to the show. At the same time the guy who is hosting
my web hosting company calls me and tells me that all of the data on my server
is irrecoverable and that he is not willing to pay the 5000-7000$ that is
required to fix the problem. I’ve been working on those sites since 1998…my
blood boils. At this moment, my whole life is going down the shitter. Right
as we are pulling into town Hugh gets in a huge argument with is wife on the
phone, gets in an insanely bad mood, and runs around talking about killing
himself. Time nears for the show, the place is getting pretty packed, and
we rock the fucking roof off the place! It was the best show of the tour.
We go to the office upstairs to get paid and are paid a paltry 50$ dollars.
I give some dude 80 bucks to go get some cocaine, figuring at this point how
bad can it get? He comes back, the cocaine is pretty shitty, and we spend
the night at Roland’s house, from Dumpster Juice.

4/16/2003 DAY OFF – We wake
up and go drive 80 miles back outside of Minneapolis. Pick up our van at the
shop. The repair costs 400$, the rental van costs $100, but fuck it we’re
back on the road – our luck is bound to change. We decide to drive to
our buddy’s house in Ft Wayne Indiana (he used to live in Atlanta) and
hang out for the night. The 625 mile drive is a long and grueling 12 hours,
we show up in town about 12:30. We meet him and few of his friends (which
seem oddly gay) at a bar we have a few drinks till closing time, pop in the
Blue Crush DVD, and call it a night.

Thursday 4/17/2003 High Fives (Columbus
Ohio) – we get to the club without much difficulty. The promoter shows
up, buys us 2 pizzas, a case of beer, pays us before we even play, so everything
is looking good. A guy from West Virginia drives 3.5 hours to come see us
play and asks us to autograph all of his stuff. Then, enter Bloodclot, the
band we are playing with. They are stupid young wanna be ICP / Twisted punks,
but not an 8 millionth as cool. Unfortunately, they are the band that most
of the people had come to the show to see. We are slated to play second of
the 3 band bill when one of the Shaggy / Violent Jay wannabes comes up and
tries to bumrush the show and get our spot. We tell them to eat a dick. Through
our entire set all of these guys’ mutant fans just scream “Bloodclot”,
“Bloodclot” and don’t even give us a chance. We play facing
a couple of guys in the crowd that seem interested and the guy from WV, then
tell the crowd “Thanks – you guys have been great!” Then the
amazing Bloodclot comes on, rapping out of time with one of their own CDs,
and we decide to get the fuck out of there and go to a bar next door where
it supposed to be “Ladies Night”. If you ask me it would have done
just as well being called “Fat Cow Night” – after that we drive
a few blocks and stop at a hotel and walk over to the shady tit bar that serves
no booze. The whole joint is a massive hustle, waste of time, and a lot of
money.

Friday 4/18/2003 Pontiac IL –
It’s 397.5 miles to Pontiac. Now I’ve never heard of Pontiac, but
my buddy Pete from Heavycore.org tells me that it’s always pretty fucking
cool, big crowd, and that there’s usually a good bunch of loose women
there. We get off at the exit drive for miles, and miles, and miles, and see
nothing. We finally roll into town. It’s one of the most hick ass backwoods
towns that I’ve ever seen in my life. The “club” is some sort
of mill/bar/barn combo and the stage in elevated almost 8 feet off of the
floor. We are playing with Sedition and Low 12; 2 locals with supposedly a
good draw. Maybe 50 people show up – it’s on ok show. After the
show, one member (who shall remain unnamed) of the band macks a girl that
“might be retarded”. Upon leaving the parking lot we realize that
one of our taillights is broken, we are followed across town by the cops,
a certain unnamed band has sex with said “retarded girl” in the
back of the van, and wakes up the next day to find her gone.

Saturday 4/19/2003 Huge Massive
Party (Effingham, IL) – We’ve been hearing pretty good things about
the parties. The place is not very far from the last small ass hick town we
played and is maybe a bit even hickier. We get to where the party is, which
is out on a farm in the middle of nowhere and show up early to set up the
PA and start drinking. We drink all day and get really tanked. A pretty good
number of people turn out by nighttime and we play a pretty awesome set to
a crown of 75-100 people from the garage. After the show in all congratulations
and it looks like the tour maybe didn’t end really that badly. Sedition
takes the stage (the garage) and sometime during their set we realize that
someone has broke into our van and stolen one of our bags belonging to Hugh
G Rection that contains almost 1000 in cash, 150 CDs, 40 DVDs, his medication
for pneumonia, car keys, house keys and more. We turn the entire place upside
down, but can’t seem to find it. Looks like a fabulous end to an even
more fabulous disaster. There is talk about trying to leave right then, and
drive back to the ATL. I talk everyone out of it and say we should try and
get a couple hours sleep, so we didn’t add a DUI to our list of woes.
I eat a few Xanex and try to for a few hours. Around 7AM Hugh wakes me up
– I’m still drunk, and in a Xanex coma and we start our 709 mile
ride back to the Atlanta, which brings we to where I am now, writing this
in the back of the van – we are somewhere outside of Nashville now, so
I hope there are no more disasters that I will be needing to add to this;
but we’ll see…wait – FUCK – now I am rejoining you from
the disaster in progress, we are now about 40 miles outside of Atlanta and
my transmission is beginning to slip – FFUUUCCCK! Frustration leaves
me slamming the walls of the van till my fists become bloody….In the
meantime – thank you for reading and remember that this tour has been
sponsored by Xanex, the fact that god hates us, and bad JuJu!

And now for the part that will
really make you cry…the numbers:

Total money made over 8 shows, including merch: 940$

Pay For Shows:

Chicago 90$ (721 Mile Drive, 11 Hours)
Cleveland 0$ (349 Mile Drive, 5 Hours 48 Minutes)
St. Louis 100$ (567 Mile Drive, 9 Hours and 13 Minutes)
DeMoins 60$ (427 Mile Drive, 7 Hours)
Minneapolis 50$ (246 Mile Drive, 4 Hours 3 Minutes)
DAY OFF (625 Mile Drive, 10 Hours 15 Minutes)

Columbus 100$ (157 Mile Drive, 3 Hours, 31 Minutes)
Pontiac 100$ (397 Mile Drive, 6 Hours, 47 Minutes)
The Party 70$ (30 minute drive)
BACK HOME (709 Mile Drive, 11 Hours, 35 Minutes)

We sold (there’s something going on with numbers here)
– 940 in merch – half of which is profit – which brought us
back down to splitting up 132$ dollars a piece at the end of the trip if you
include the 325$ that we started with, but then you must take into account
the real losses:

My entire network of porn sites being down for 13 days which
make an average of 300$ a day: LOSS 3900$
Fixing The Alternator: LOSS 380$
Renting a Van: LOSS 120$
Kick Ass Swiss Army Watch LOSS $400

Wireless Card Broken LOSS $100
Loss From Theft: LOSS 2000$

Loss in Revenue From Not Having Shows Advertised on Our Website,
CD Sales ect…hard to estimate, but I would say somewhere at 500 or 600
bucks.

Total Disaster Loss $7500

Actual Good Done From Playing Any of These Shows: Very
Little

Planning this disaster:

Long Distance Calls: Estimated 400$

Press Kits and Mail: 100$

Total # of hours planning: 60 Hours

GRAND FINANCIAL LOSS FROM SAID
ENDEVOURS: 8 GRAND + WHATEVER IS NOW WRONG WITH MY GOD DAMNED TRANSMISSION!

We expected this shit to be fucked up but how fucked up it actually
became boggles the mind – we’re used to never getting any breaks
but this shit is ridiculous. This is not even going into the fact that I will
be spending months reconstructing my porn sites – my whole life is fucked
really. By the time you read this I will most likely have committed suicide,
moved to Amsterdam to never return, or got a job as a quality control guy
at mace manufactuter..

For you parents out there that a weary because you think that
you son or daughter may be thinking of pursuing a career in Rock N’ Roll,
just have them read this document. Stay in school, get a real job, or (some
day) this could happen to you…

Thanks for your readership,

Dick Delicious and the Tasty Testicles

About admin

I'm the singer / guitarsist / do everything guy for this rag tag outfit. It's glorious!
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