EARLY WORD: A Brown Reason To Live


Tomorrow we will run the third installment of hazy-crazy-mary-and-dirty-larry memories of our gloriously misspent ’80s youth, specifically the time we following a band called the Butthole Surfers around like the Grateful Dead. We would have posted it today, but the statute of limitations doesn’t run out on some of that stuff until tomorrow. You know how it is. Anyway, we will also — God willing — have a PHAWKER TV interview with Gibby up by sometime Sunday or first thing Monday. If you have any specific questions you need answered — you know like, ‘Were you really Kurt Cobain’s roommate in the rehab he escaped from right before he killed himself?’ or ‘Did you or didn’t you steal Daniel Johnston’s face?’ — send them in by noon tomorrow. In the meantime, we are giving away a limited number of tickets for Saturday’s show. If you are interested in attending as our guest, drop us a line at FEED@PHAWKER.COM. And feel free to share your warmest Butthole Surfer memories. For example: “Remember the time they showed the re-constructive penis surgery film? That was the best…” or “I’m feeling much better now, really, these wrist restraints aren’t necessary…” That kind of thing.


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