This satire article is a collaboration between Slightly Fuzzed and Monster Riff. Welcome to Slightly Riffed: The Fakest News In Stoner Rock!
The doors opened around 6:00—or maybe it was 7:00—at the Roseland Theater in Portland, OR. Whatever time it was, as I stumbled in, I burped up the stale taste of PBR and Camel Lights and beelined to the nearest bar in the venue. Nothing goes with a rock show like cheap tallboys and Jägerbomb. I had made it to the Clutch show, and I was ready to go!
Behind me, JD Pinkus was wrapping up his set, playing the banjo or ukulele or something. As I dribbled a little beer down my shirt I made the hilarious joke, “Play ‘Freebird!’” I was pretty sure people thought I was the funniest guy at the show.
I tried to make my way to the men’s restroom and made another hilarious joke about how it was “time to break the seal!” Some dick totally spilled beer on my Chuck Taylors, and it definitely wasn’t my fault. No way. Not at all. The line at the restroom was long, but I stood next to a guy in a Toadies shirt and basically sang him the first three minutes of “Possum Kingdom” and he was totally impressed.
