[Ed. Note: The lovely individuals of awesome monster band Gwar are known for taking the piss, so please take them—and Daniel XIII, for that matter—with a block of salt, and note that this article is not at all safe for work.]
Holy cats, my creeps: I recently had a diabolical dream fulfilled recently when I was summoned to appear before GWAR themselves when they rolled through my neck of the wicked woods. And let me tell ya, we had a conversation like no other! Wait, what is that? You actually want to know what went on in that cursed convo? Well, today’s yer lucky day, as I just so happened to transcribe the terror talk!
Famous Monsters. Well, well, well, if it isn’t the world’s most gruesome guitarist, Pustulus Maximus! Greetings, fellow ghoul! How has life on the raunchy road been treatin’ yer ass?
Pustulus Maximus. The tour has been going really well. People have been showin’ up which is really f–king important! It’s goin’ great. I haven’t got any complaints… other than the lack of handjobs, but what are ya gonna do?
FM. I find bein’ a revoltin reviewer/insane interviewer presents a lack of those as well…
PM. And I have really specific needs. I don’t really want anyone to touch me; especially people, ya know? I really like prosthetic limbs—I can get the job without actually havin’ to talk to the person, because they die, and then you take their prosthetic limb.
FM. There is wisdom in what you say. Always keep that kind o’ biz impersonal.
PM. Yes! It needs to be sterile.
FM. Now for the kind of hard hittin’ question that I have become legendary for in the field of journalism. How has the weather been on tour?
PM. The weather has been good. Obviously we are from Antarctica, and we try and plot it out to do the Great White North and East Coast of the United States in the dead of f–king winter. We want plenty of snow and harrowing conditions for people to try and travel in. We’re getting a little older, fatter, and lazier, so we aren’t able to completely kill everyone at the show. If there is serious inclement weather goin’ on, we’re hoping it’ll kinda even out in the wash. Things will take care of themselves. If we don’t kill you, maybe you’ll get drunk and run off the road in a snowstorm or something.
FM. But surely you don’t want to miss out on the thrill o’ the kill. Plus, that repeat business will start to dwindle.
PM. Ah yes, therein lies the problem. It’s probably why we are successful now… because we’re getting lazy. We used to kill all our fans, and the next time we’d come to town, there’d have to have a whole new audience, basically, because we killed the old one. I guess it’s better that we are not good at killin’ everyone.
FM. It had to be exhaustin’ rebuildin’ that fan base every time…
PM. And cops. Cops are really stiff competition these days; they’re killin’ everybody! There’s nobody left for us!
FM. So has anythin’ else changed for GWAR on tour? What should your fiendish fans expect this go around?
PM. You can expect blood, violence… We have pulled out all the stops. We blow come on you from a severed penis on this tour. Who else is goin’ to give you that but GWAR?
FM. So basically a mellower, more family-friendly kinda show?
PM. I wouldn’t say it’s family friendly. Unless it was kind of an incestuous family, then yeah; especially if you like Eiffel Towering a sex-drone. We’re all about that kind of s–t.
FM. Are you attractin’ a different kind o’ crowd these days?
PM. I wanna say they are gaining intelligence, because it seems they are actually comin’ away from the show understanding what’s happening! That’s pretty f–king cool. We did work hard on this show, and we wanted it to be the best. We wanted it to pay tribute to Oderus Urungus; we wanted to f–kin’ show that we could still be a band, and we wanted to help this f–kin’ healing process with our fans. Not to sound like a pansy or anythin’. I have multiple feelings, although I can only feel one at a time. It’s usually anger, hate, disgust, or frustration, but there is a cool, heartfelt message we are tryin’ to send out, and people are walkin’ away with it, and that makes me happy.
FM. Now that Oderus has left the planet, how have the demonic dynamics of your show changed?
PM. I don’t know. It’s definitely different; a lot more people are talkin’. Now they can’t shut me up. No one can talk over me anymore. I got a big mouth. It’s probably a bad idea ‘cuz I drink all the time. It’s a disaster. The other guys are doin’ good… people want to hear more from Beefcake and Balsac… Blothar and Vulvatron have a lot to say, and they are getting a chance to put themselves out there, which is important to the lifeblood of the band. Everybody’s gotta have a voice and we are doin’ what we can to make sure they are all heard.
FM. Any plans to assault our asses with a new album?
PM. We are goin’ to start workin’ on tunes the day we get home. There’s nothin’ else to do, so we are goin’ to write new songs. Nobody knows what the future holds for GWAR—not even the people in it—so we want to make solid music with the group as it stands right now, because a day from now, five days from now, a year from now… it may be completely different. We don’t know. It’s whatever Sleazy makes us do.
FM. Recently you performed a venomous version of the Pet Shop Boys’ West End Girls. How did it feel to play somethin’ so different?
PM. I arranged it, and I still hate it! I don’t know, there’s somethin’ to be said about the Pet Shop Boys. I was pretty intrigued by the lyrics; there’s a part about flippin’ over tables at a bar and puttin’ a gun in your mouth and I was like “Jesus f–k, that’s what I do every Saturday night!” I immediately identified with it, and then they told me who it was by, and I was like “Aww, f–k!” I tried to make it the furthest away from the original concept as possible. I think we did a pretty good job. There was other input by other members, and that’s why it got a little “poppy”. Mine was laced with blast beats and death metal vocals until they told me no one could understand it. So we softened it up a hair.
FM. Good Godzilla! Blothar has just broken the damn door right off the hinges!
Blothar. What in the f–k!
PM. He was in deep hibernation. We try not to wake him. He needs his strength for the show. You guys don’t want a lackluster performance; you want great things out of us, so we must do things like drink all night and sleep all day!
FM. Bein’ as it is so cold, you had to be all cozy and snug under your Spectral Moon Moose furs.
B. Weather like this, I walk around nude most of the time!
FM. As you are right this very second!
B. I’m buck-ass naked!
PM. And you should be grateful for that!
B. Quit looking at my micro-penis!
FM. It’s still bigger than mine…
B. Of course!
PM. It’s the weather… shrinkage…
FM. Thanks for comin’ to my defense!
B. Macro-penis!
PM. I think shrinkage was covered rather well in the 1990’s sitcom SEINFELD.
B. Excellent point!
FM. I wouldn’t guess you ghouls as sitcom fans.
B. Of course we watch sitcoms. ALL IN THE FAMILY!
FM. ALL IN THE FAMILY is one of your favorites?
B. Oh, yes. THE JEFFERSONS!
PM. I like tales of spousal abuse like I LOVE LUCY!
FM. Like THE HONEYMOONERS.
PM. Yes, yes! That was the one; I get confused. Maybe it was more wishful thinking with I LOVE LUCY. You have to understand pop culture… know your enemy. And you have to have a strong pimp hand as well.
B. And also just blatantly racist humor. That is something that Americans are excellent at.
FM. That’s a nice segue to talk about your udders, Blothar, and the secretions that issue from them.
B. I know this is difficult for you to understand, but they are not udders. They are d–ks. It’s a hideous bouquet of penises, and what they shoot is a sort of mixture of blood, come, and milk. It’s what children consume to exist on my planet. I have had numerous children… I’ve been pregnant many times. There is only one that I know, though, and that is Beefcake. Although I am his father, I am also his mother. I f–ked myself, and he came out. He’s a tremendous disappointment to me; that’s all I can say.
Beefcake photo by Daniel XIII
FM. But what of yer lactose intolerant fans that might get a mouthful during the show? Are you worried about them?
B. No! That is why I spray it on them! I want them to dissolve in an instant. And that’s what happens. It’s like a stream of acid!
PM. I think it’s cool that the bag of d–ks settles an age old question: “What does a bag of d–ks actually look like?” Everyone was always wondering… is it just a bunch of smooshed up d–ks in a Ziploc bag, like ten of them just folded against each other? Or is it a giant paper bag and they are stickin’ out of the top like a bunch of baguettes? Now we know!
B. It’s a d–kbag… literally.
FM. So Blothar, since this is yer first tour, how has it been treatin’ you?
B. It’s like that sh–ty movie GROUNDHOG DAY. Every day I wake up and walk out on stage and there’s 10,000 screaming, pimply faced, metal-head morons looking at me wanting to be entertained, and GWAR brings it! Every single f–king night we do what we are doing, which is honor our fallen Scumdog brother Oderus Urungus. We search for him, we look for him, but we never find him. Everyday we wake up and look again. Why? Because we are f–king stupid.
PM. At least we’re dedicated.
B. Oderus… he was a f–k of a guy. We think he might be dead. All I know is, he owes me a s–t-ton of yams and cola nuts. Ten billion yams. That’s what we used for money… yams.
PM. There’s much more of a stable economy in yams than rubles at this point.
B. Invest in yams and cola nuts!
FM. Thanks fer takin’ the time to talk with yours cruelly today, and for bein’ so open about the tender subject of yer son, Beefcake.
B. He is a fat piece of s–t, I’ll tell ya… from top to bottom. I look at that kid, and I see myself. He’s the kind of guy that sits on the toilet all day long because he might have to take a s–t at some point. He’s the worst.
PM. At some point? At all points! I can’t even jerk off in the bathroom because he is always s–tting in there.
B. He’s a s–t factory.
FM. Could the yams be causin’ any d-blast distress?
B. He keeps his f–king hands of my yams! I’ve given him the last yam he will ever get! F’n Beefcake. Now you’ve ruined my mood. Goodbye!
PM. You don’t wanna remind people about their kids. That’s just bad news.
FM. But certainly you have sired a beastly brood of yer own?
PM. There’s like 1600 out there. Ya know the only difference between me and my couch? My couch pulls out!
FM. Any final message for our rambunctious readers?
PM. As stupid as it sounds, I’m grateful to be here, and I appreciate everybody comin’ out every night. That’s the last nice thing you’re ever goin’ to get me to say, so go f–k yourself!
Well, that ended the only way it could have! An extra special thanks for GWAR and their management for makin’ this possible! If ya want to know more about GWAR and all of their mass murderin’ antics, be sure to head here!