Juggalos: How The F**k do They Work?
Wikipedia defines a Juggalo as: "a name given to fans of Insane Clown Posse or any other Psychopathic Records hip hop group. Juggalos have developed their own idioms, slang, and characteristics." Not really the most helpful of definitions but it did lead me to probe further into this sub-culture of the ridiculous in an effort to figure out exactly what constitutes a Juggalo. Am I a Juggalo? Are you a Juggalo? Can I catch a rarified form of diptheria from a Juggalo? Do Juggalos prefer mayo or ketchup on their fries? The questions are endless and the only way the answers to these vexing conundrums may be obtained is by studying carefully chosen specimens in a variety of settings. I will admit that I have been a part of various juggalo gatherings but it was strictly for science and I promise that I didn't enjoy it at all. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure one of their women got me pregnant.
Juggalos tend to gather in large groups for some sort of bonding experience wherein they yell and scream and hurl obscenities (and, on occasion, other items) at each other and the objects of their distain. They frequently dress in outlandish fashions that no sane human being would ever be caught dead in and they may or may not be in various states of undress. Sometimes, the women will dress as pox-ridden hookers in order to lure one of the performers into adding her to their harem and, hopefully, getting a baby daddy. The fashion travesties extend to both the males and females as both sexes enjoy painting their faces to look like retarded crack-whored clowns. It's as if they gave a bunch of makeup to a two-year-old on crystal-meth withdrawal, put her in a washing machine on the spin cycle and let her go to town. The combination of hundreds or even thousands of these people creates a maelstrom of the asinine that threatens to break event the most steadfast of individual's spirit.
Most Juggalos tend to consume various chemicals in an effort to enhance the enjoyment and experience of any particular event. Unfortunately they don't seem to realize that this also has many adverse effects. It's been observed that a combination of camradere and various reality modifying consumables creates a black hole effect from which no intelligence can escape. The gathering immediately devolves into a mass of howling, chest thumping, and barbaric idiocy that is something to behold. There's no science invented that can explain what happens to this group of people the very second the entertainment starts. You can actually see the ignorance as it begins to waft around the crowd like a horrendously pustulent fart. The stupid clings to you like an orphan you're trying to return to Madam Broussade's House of Child Labour and it will take weeks to scrub the shame and filth from your skin. Even then, that easily recognizable stench will invade your dreams. There's never enough hot water.
Being in the middle of this seething mass of the dregs of humanity, one is made immediately aware of all that is wrong with the world. This is what people become when they don't listen to their parents, when they don't take their daily vitamins and when they don't say their prayers. They are loud, obnoxious, unkempt, salacious, rude and they smell like rotten potatoes. Why these people would want to gather in one place where a less merciful person than I could spontaneously eliminate masses of them with naught but a bar of soap is beyond me. It is a terrifying experience that should only be attempted by someone who is incognito. Just look at what happened to that famewhore, these people know when you aren't one of their heinous ilk. My experience has made me question the existence of God for surely even a vengeful deity would have more pity upon we who must put up with the Juggalo day in and day out.
At the end of my little experiment I have come to one conclusion. I've put myself in harm's way so that you good people may be spared from such torture. Honestly, there is nothing of redeemable value to be found at such gatherings. I am absolutely convinced that Juggalos are the work of the devil (Glenn Beck) in order to show us what our liberal viewpoint and lifestyle has wrought. The experience has left me scarred for life and I have nothing to blame but my own morbid curiosity. Nobody put me up to it and nobody has come forth with an offer to help with the therapist's bills. When I wake screaming and in a cold sweat to find that the only comfort I'm to avail myself of is to grasp onto my wife while muttering, "can't sleep, clown'll eat me" I'm afraid that I've been pushed beyond my limits. I've included pictures of various incarnations of Juggalo to help you avoid the same fate. I plead, friends, if you see one of these walking vessels of horror coming your way, turn around and run. Run as fast and as far as you can. Do not test your resolve, do not test your constitution, do not test your own theories, they will fail in the face of such an asinine assault. Heed my warning of dire consequence.
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