To go to Detroit for Halloween was scarier than usual on account of the highway shooter, who had shot a couple dozens cars and one man in the butt. However, Mary and I both — albeit separately — arrived unharmed.
We were there for Hallowicked, the Insane Clown Posse’s annual Halloween extravaganza. As you must know by now, we’ve made friends with the clowns and have decided we are very much down with said clown… until we are dead in the ground, naturally.
As we reported to you earlier, the FBI has decided that ICP fans, juggalos, are a gang. So, I endured the most intense patdown of my life upon entering the venue — and I’ve been to jail. But, the show was as fun as one could expect and full of butts.
The delicious scent of diet Faygo root beer reminded us of our days among the Juggalos. Ahhhhh.
We were hoping to stay at the Milner, but an elderly gentleman outside told us that very night was the Milner’s last. It had officially closed at midnight. Dejected, we headed to a motel we’d seen coming into town. The Viking Motel, on Grand River Ave.
This blustery night found us one room with a narrow bed and a flickering light. The clerk was wary of us, possibly because our friend Greg had come to check in with us, face still smeared with Halloween makeup. He hastily attempted to wipe the inverted cross from his forehead before entering the lobby, but I think she remained thankful for her bulletproof glass. Once in the room, Greg immediately proved her worst fears by touching the headboard. His gentle carress caused it to immediately fall off the wall.
This is why we can’t have mediocre things.
Once the bed has been restored, I spend some time looking for bed bugs. Relax, my friends, that’s a decrepit heater, not a ghost, blowing the torn, stained curtains.
Meanwhile, Mary discovers this charming outdoor toilet.
The door knob may have seen better days, but at least someone wrote “replace” on the door with a pencil. Also, check out this sticker. Too small? It’s for Pimp City Playaz’ Myspace. While 70 percent of the lyrics to this song are, “Bitch, WhassYo Name?” (also the title) this video is 90 percent twerking. The other 10 percent is a bizarre lap dance that requires a lot of core strength.
As per usual, we ended up at The Leland City Club. Again.
At 5 a.m., I returned alone to the motel, as Mary took off to stay with a friend. Calm. Quiet. Cold. Sleep tight, I said to myself. Of course, it was Halloween. And earlier, I met this guy.
(most) photos by Mary Sjaarda
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