Degenerate Press

Welcome to Degenerate Press' feature article. If this isn't enough you can always subscribe to Electric Degeneration, our semi-weekly and semi-weakly ezine, or surf the Electric Degeneration archive.

If you can't find what you're looking for by surfing, use this handy search feature:

Halloween
October 2003

 
Friday we hooked up at degenerates DC and BC’s place in Cabbagetown as a convenient rendezvous point where we met up with members of Devo.
Devo were performing backup for the First Lady of Country Music, Miss Loretta Lynn!
A lonely groom was in search of a bride.
Instead of a bride, he found a bad magician.
"Pick a card, any card," he said, holding out a single card, the Jack of diamonds.
He then proceeded to try to guess which card had been picked, "Uh... the two of clubs?"
Agent Sands appeared and started shooting anything that made a noise.
Some random slacker appeared and said everyone was a bunch of dorks, so we left her at home to pass out candy to the Cabbagetown kids while we partied on.
First stop, 9 Lives for Shane Morton’s little house or horrors, a few rooms done up with dismembered corpses cast from the body of his luscious wife, Calu.
Crank County Daredevils were on stage, all-but-ignored by us as we ogled the costumed crowd and chatted with the Prick editor, Chuck Brank, who was recently killed and brought back to life. Apparently he was too horrific for me to get a picture.
But I did get a picture of his wife, also recently undead, snuggling up to the musical breasts of Loretta Lynn.


The rest of Devo appeared on stage, calling themselves JFKFC for the night and doing metallic versions of their normally robotic rock.

Loretta Lynn was so impressed she joined the group.
We had other parties to attend, so we piled into the car and headed south to East Atlanta Village and Echo Lounge.
Mondo Topless was on stage already, cranking out up-tempo 60’s go-go garage rock with Moe Syzslak on lead vocals and keyboard.
I tried to avoid using the flash on the camera as much as possible, to keep the creepy Halloween feel.
The place was packed with celebs, zombies, and local landmarks.
The Forty Fives came on in their usual black suit attire with the addition of black masks on some of the members. I had to paste this one together from a couple of pictures to get 'em both in the shot.
Pretty soon they were shaking so much the masks flew off.
Followed by the jackets.
And eventually they played themselves all the way down to their knees.
The incompetent magician performed a strange ceremony, summoning whirling lights...
and suddenly there's a demon standing next to Agent Sands! Too bad he can't see it...
Los Straightjackets appeared in their usual Mexican wrestling masks and cranked up the furious instrumental surf.
The ladies in our group weren’t interested in Los Straightjackets and it was time for a change of scenery. On our way out the door, the lonely groom proposed to Medusa, only to be turned to stone. It took our incompetent magician a while to reverse the petrification so we could continue on.

We headed back to 9 Lives in hopes of catching a bit of Doll Squad burlesque.


No luck on that front, though we did get a heavy dose of heavy metal courtesy of Gargantua, and a gaggle of new freaks, zombies and the like for us to ogle.

Loretta rocked out to Gargantua.
But nobody seemed to enjoy the show as much as this girl.
The lonely groom continued this quest for a bride, getting engaged a few dozen times only to disappear before any of them could set a date.
Eventually we were too pooped to party any longer and went on a late night adventure in an effort to score some food.


We hit Disco Diner and were 4th on the waiting list when we arrived.
Twenty minutes later we still didn't have a table, and were still 4th on the list.


Please, God... all I want is some fuckin' hashbrowns!
Wait... I can see!
Dammit, God, I said hashbrowns!

After giving up on Disco Diner and a few other misadventures, our party split up. Loretta and Agent Sands stuffed down greasy Checkers burgers and hit the sack around 5 AM.


Contact Degenerate Press

Take me to Degenerate Press' home page!
There's no place like home... no place like home...

All content on this site is owned by Degenerate Press and cannot be used without our permission. We have lawyers for friends with nothing better to do than cause trouble (no kidding), so play nice. Copyright © 2003, All Rights Reserved