threatened by white reggae jackasses

we're gonna try an experiment today ... it's kinda like madlibs, but instead i write a story around the bizarre pictures i find hidden in the buried tubes of the interwebs ...

this is a story about the world's one and only protestant christian reggae band, Reformation Rockers. from left to right that's sleepy (bass), smirky (guitar, vocals), shirtless (lead vocals) and phil (drums). that photo was taken fresh off a successful concert/bombing at st. o'calahan's basillica in southern ireland. the band had actually started to think about calling it quits after shirtless started drinking with more and more disregard, and regularly waking up soaked in his own urine. rejuvenated by such a killer performance (pun intended), the band called up the russian kid they had been secretly been training to replace shirtless and told him they weren't gonna be needing his services after all. well, this didn't sit too well with the russian kid who had just quit his own one man band The Purpleists (artists rendering) in anticipation of being asked to come onto Reformation Rockers full time. The Purpleists was a sort of prog-latin band with heavy russian hair metal influence, their most popular album We're Not So Purple failed to break into the Western charts. Feeling extremely slighted by Reformation Rockers decision, in a flurry of anger, the russian kid dispatched his aquatic white tigers to destroy the Reformation Rockers. Expecting some kind of retaliation for their decision, the Rockers were ready to do battle with the combined forces of pissed off dirt girl and nikola tesla and his infamous balls of flame! The stage was set, both parties met on a plateau in the Scottish highlands READY FOR BATTLE! And what a battle it was, with the russian kid deploying his aquatic white tigers like a skilled chess player, while pissed off dirt girl and tesla flanked and drew them out into the open. A nice crowd had gathered to watch the event, and the Reformation Rockers were cheering their team on when suddenly phil began to look quite ill, then convulse and fall to the ground sweating, his eyes blinking incessantly where upon his body seemed to be grabbed by some spectre invisible to to rest of his band. You see, phil had been keeping a terrible secret, for the past 3 months he had been consistently seized, violently, by shocking images of the pope being compared to things! Not wishing to reveal these planted doubts to his bandmates, phil kept silent, but now the jig was up. (oh, and when i said scottish highland, i meant a huge soccer stadium in scotland) Meanwhile, the battle raged on the field. The pissed off dirt girl had just finished devouring her third aquatic white tiger, while tesla kept the heat up, toasting tigers as they leapt off cliffs. But then jesus came down, declared matt damon sexiest man, and everyone gave up.

oh, and AWWWWWWWSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

and

people like this really exist, ie that was not made as a joke

but hey, that jesus picture is pretty amazing.

oh yeah, so half way through this i was (seriously) almost assaulted at my job by this joke-ass "musician" who hadn't yet been paid for playing the festival i work for. his check was (seriously) in the mail, but that didn't stop him from coming up with brass knuckles on (seriously) that were personalized with his last name (seriously) and screaming at me for about 15 minutes straight, STRAIGHT (seriously) ... he then laid into me personally cause he knows im a reggae musician as well, basically saying that it was cause of "pussies like me that REAL musicians can't afford to be musicians" ... what he was referring to, i couldn't say ... i kept trying to TALK with him but all he did was scream. i wish i could remember exact quotes cause there were some good ones, i was apologetic, tried to explain that IN HIS CONTRACT it states that we have 2 months to pay him (seriously, it does) but he didn't want to hear it, he accused me of working for a corporation (we're non-profit), that i work for babylon (huh? the small non-profit arts organization?), that i don't understand reggae music, etc etc ... he threw a bunch of great insults i had never heard before also ... the only one i can remember was something like "hooty pooty" (seriously, as in "this hooty pooty money") but i'm not sure cause he was screaming so loud it was kinda intelligible. i kept trying to explain him that sometimes people just do things because they feel passionately about them, to which his response was "man, FUCK THAT, I'M INTO GETTIN' PAID!" ... all about the music folks ... i shoulda asked him if he considered himself a rastafarian, and if so why he was acting so unlike a rasta, that'd shut him up (maybe) ... eventually i talked him down and defused the whole thing (cause I got skills like that), but i was (seriously) a hair away from calling 911, because it was that intense ... i wasnt worried about harm to myself, but he kept threatening to break shit, and working in a gallery, there's alot of shit on the walls that's easy to destroy that cost alot of money ... jeeez ... i was seriously shook up for about a half hour after he left, dude was out of his goddamn mind ... but hey, thats why i get paid the big bucks for (seri ... wait, no.)