(replying to jimvrountree, not you, snippydippy)

incorrect. the wdnf has always and will always be there.

Soryy I don’t know how to embed here but here’s the link
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tYIusVN0KO0

charlenebates4565464 You should watch this video before you post

Did a little google maps research. The house appears boarded up post Sandy in 2013 and looks like a new house in its place was near completion last summer. One of these days I’m gonna rent it and add a little memorial.

Too terrified?! C’mon man, post away – it’s a helluva lot better than the cheesy-@ss “Ween Appreciation Society” on Facebook. But if you are into calling everything “brown” and rolling with the jam band peoples then it may be your thing.

Hill closed down the Ween Forum and reopened it as the Clown Penis forum. This is not a joke.

Kafka is Pure Guava

The Argus, man.

I feel like it will (unfrtunately) take another 20 years before ween is truly appreciated for their body of work and talent. It’s upsetting more of my friends aren’t into them but it makes the bonds with friends who are that much tighter. Hail Boognish.

its important to remember, at this point, that Ween made a song called “put the coke on my dick”. just FYI

The Mollusk and Quebec are their best

I enjoyed it.

Wind-Up Bird is Murakami’s The Mollusk (fucked up and weird and probably shouldn’t work but is a masterpiece through craft and some cosmic internal logic)
Norwegian Wood his White Pepper (the most straightforward and accessible but with all that same fucked-up stuff bubbling under the surface + a whole heap of genius craft)
I guess IQ84 is his Quebec (dark & emotional with long ambient patches??)
and then Tsukuru Tazaki his La Cucarachi (a wholly enjoyable experience but kind of lightweight compared to previous efforts??)

yeah this fell apart but it was fun

I love that concert so much. I’ve had so many days home where I’ve got a few hours and I just open up that concert, crack open a beer and sit, enthralled, all the way through.

I dig that we can’t go back and edit things on here. When that little button changes to “posting” I’m always a bit uncomfortable. But Bowie said that’s where I need to live, so I’m here for it.

I lurked it, too terrified to post.

You’re a treasure, bud. Misspell away.

The first time I saw them was when they were headlining Lollapalooza (against Kanye West on another stage) in 2005. I was on A LOT of acid and had been camped out near the front for a good portion of the end of the day to ensure good spots. By the time they played Buckingham Green, I could no longer fight the need to pee but I also couldn’t give up my hard-won spot (or try to find my friends again in my condition), so I decided to go with the old in a bottle out of the short legs. Problem was, I had only tried that in basketball shorts before and I was wearing way less stretchy shorts this time. Nonetheless, I get it out and start peeing (crouched on the ground to be semi-inconspicuous) but really quickly it just starts feeling really hot and wet around my hand but I’m tripping too hard to figure out if I’m peeing in the bottle or not, so I just pee in little spurts with mini-reconfigurations for THE ENTIRE 7 minute version of Buckingham Green. At one point my friend turned around and let me know that I had sprayed him some. It was not pretty. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t find a bottle cap after either, so I just abandoned it and made all my friends relocate by 20 feet.

Then 2-3 years later I was seeing them at a sold-out show in Portland. I was driving in from out of town to buy a ticket off of someone from Craigslist who had sworn he’d hold the ticket for me. Get to his address — no one there. I call 3 or 4 times, no answer. I see that his front door has a mail slot and consider how badly I’ve had to pee for the past 1.5 hours of the drive. After letting out a good 45 second stream into his living room through the mail slot, crushing guilt overcomes me as I look at my ringing phone to see he’s calling me back. Fortunately for my conscience, he had sold the ticket and redirected me to a price gouging friend of his. Worth the extra $20 I had to pay for the ticket not to have to face the guy who I knew would later come home to a massive puddle of piss in his living room.

Hill’s Ween forum closed up a few months after Gener “quit” in 2012 I believe.

I’m 100% with you on bimodal favorites of Quebec and The Mollusk with So Many People in the Neighborhood and Happy Colored Marbles probably sharing my all-time top spot. I’ve just had so many great acid moments to that moment when everything comes crashing down on So Many People.

Pure Guava’s been the one I’ve reached for most the past couple of years though.

Do coke is a bit of an overstatement, but that day, certainly.

I can’t believe you do coke

Ah, I think that was actually an error I made during the editorial process, but I’ve now amended it in the text above. Thanks for the heads up!

Anyone ever go on the old Ween forum? That place was like the Thunderdome of Internet forums.

Forever regretful about typos, but had to post before I meditated too much on the digressive nature of this story.

It’s a quintessential 90s album that is hard to believe it could come out in the 90s. Absurdist art is at its best when possible avenues of interpretations are not only humorous. Ween does that really well, especially through albums as a whole.

When I was a teenager in my small town, I used to go lift weights with the A bunch of cops ar the town’s sub station. I wasn’t a bad kid, nut I also wasn’t necessarily on the right track, so my dad arranged for me to train for baseball season with the town law. I got pretty close with some of the guys and, as a thank you, my father agreeed to take a bunch of them to the Rush Limbaugh show (my dads a Dem but all these guys were arch conservatives, so he figured he had the tickets, why not.). My father worked on Wall Street at the time and I believe he arranged to meet the guys in the city.

They arrived well before the taping and decided to go have drinks at a bar near the studio. So, they’re drinking and being loud (as cops or anyone can be) and this guy picks up his drink and moves over to sit with them. He’s a homeless looking fella who, suprisingly, buys a round for everyone. Tells them he loves cops, and he’s happy to drink with them. This is back in the nineties, so I guess the topic of music came up and my dad mentioned that his son was into music and, when asked what kind, said Nirvana. The guy says that he knows Kurt Cobain and they’re actually pretty good friends. All the guys there laughed at this crazy person who claimed to know the biggest rock star in the world, but did think it was odd that he kept buying drinks.

So, they’re cracking jokes and the bartender comes over to the one cop and tells him not to feel too self satisfied because that “crazy vagrant” is actually kinda rich and well known. Let’s him know that he’s in a band called The Butthole Surfers, which elicits a ton of laughter from everyone but my dad who recognizes the name. He tells the cops that it’s totally for real, that he’s heard me listening to this band in the past, and, anyway, the guy is buying drinks so maybe shut the fuck up.

Gibby and the group keep drinking and he gets around to asking them where they are going. They explain they are headed to The Rush Limbaugh show and, contrary to their expectations, he says he’d totally love to go with them. They had an extra ticket, and told him to show up later when he was done with his drinks.

My dad and the cops make their way to the show and Gibby stays at the bar for a bit and follows soon after. When he arrives at the RL show the guy at the door wants nothing to do with him and tells him he can’t go in. Makes up some story about how you need a jacket and tie. Not wanting to dissapoint his new friends, Mr. Haynes leaves the line, runs across the street and gives a guy some money for his tie and wears it over the T-Shirt. When he arrives back the humorless doorman tells him he’s too intoxicated. Ginny, no doubt, grouses a bit and finally leaves.

Someone apparently told Limbaugh this all happened and he opened the show with the story. After that he, no doubt, reliably sucked (my dad said it was boring and my dad can usually find entertainment in anything. Anyway after the show the guys went back to the bar and found him there again. He hugged everyone and bought another round and signed a placemat in appreciation. I still have it till this day.

Appreciate folks here indulging me. I couldn’t beat not relating that story to to you all. My girlfriend lives in New Hope and I’m sure Mickey and Aaron have seen that the FBI are over there today. That story is much more related, but it’s also depressing and horrific. Instead let us watch ol’ Rush be the worst and spend the rest of the day listening to Ween. Good talk.

https://youtu.be/jwl1j_w6wr8

(my favorite Ween album getting a retrospective with a twist, dayum)

Minor correction – New Hope is in PA, not NJ.