Photo by Nate "Igor" Smith ...And this is all before 5 a.m.
Festivities here at the Gathering of the Juggalos run every day from noon until 5 a.m., and then things start getting weird. That's not to say they weren't weird to begin with, but after hours of drugs and partying and wicked clown love, juggalos will begin displaying even more bizarre, hilarious behavior.
Here are a few of the things that happen after 5 a.m. at the Gathering of the Juggalos.
Photo by Drew Ailes
While wandering around the campgrounds taking photos of trash and other things we found on the ground, we came across the girls of Passed-Out Juggalos, a Tumblr that features photos of unconscious ICP fans with girls' butts in their faces. There was an unconscious man sleeping in a pile of mud near a campfire, and Kali (one of the girls) was squatting over him, when suddenly he awoke and sent the girls scattering, giggling maniacally and searching for their next prey.
Obviously, we followed them, as this was much more amusing than the ten thousand empty bags of drugs we were taking photos of. In between victims, we asked Kali what was going on. "Passed out Juggalos!" she exclaimed gleefully. We were then shushed as she and another girl began wrapping a man who had fallen asleep in a chair with duct tape.
Photo by Daniel Hill
When we first came upon The Wheel, it was while security was breaking up a crowd of people and telling them to move along. This was the only time we had seen security stop anyone from doing anything, so obviously we were intrigued.
The proprietors of the Wheel moved not far from their original location and set up shop again when security drove away. "Spin the wheel!" they began shouting to the nearby juggalos that were still awake. "Spin the wheel; win a beer!"
The Wheel has written on it several potential outcomes that can come from spinning it, and most of them are absolutely horrible. We learned that the reason security had dispersed the crowd is because a man had just smacked another man in the face with a piece of poop in his hand. "You guys want to spin the wheel?" we were asked. No thank you; just spectating.
Photo by Daniel Hill
Another brave soul approached and gave a spin, likely unaware of what he was getting himself into. It landed on some sort of punishment that was to be thought of on the spot. We were asked what it is that the man who spun should do. "Uh, eat some bark off of that tree," we replied, trying to find something that would satiate the bloodlust of the wheel's owners without ruining this poor kid's life too badly. This answer was initially deemed acceptable, but when the wheel-spinner seemed too relaxed about taking this punishment, it was decided that bark was too tame. "Put a rock in your ass and eat it," one sadistic Juggalo suggested. This punishment was declined.
"Stand in the middle of that path, whip your dick out and start masturbating," was the next suggestion. Our unfortunate soul, now aware that he was in over his head, declined that one as well.
The conversation then turned to drugs, as many conversations here do.
We became bored and walked away, thinking the fun was over and that this guy was about to buy his way out of this situation. The next day, we came across the owners of the Wheel again, and asked what ended up happening.
Apparently shortly after we left it was decided that the man would jump head first into a trash can, with his feet sticking out straight up in the air. The man complied, and then somebody hit the can with a golf cart and he went flying. "That wasn't even part of it," we were told by another sadistic Juggalo, grinning ear to ear. "It was just some golf cart that happened to come along and hit it."
"Hey, can you wash my ass?"
Drew and I spent a lot of time wondering how obvious it was to the juggalos that we were outsiders. After Drew was playfully deemed a "faggot" by one such juggalo, for example, he opted to change out of his skinny jeans and into a pair of swim trunks for the rest of our stay (they seemed to help). So when we were suddenly approached by a young lady wearing nothing but a t-shirt and her underwear, saying, "I don't want to be weird, but...." we were understandably apprehensive.
"Can you wash the mud off my ass?" she said, handing me a water bottle. "I sat on the ground and I don't want to walk around looking like I shit my pants." She then turned around and stuck her butt out, waiting.
Drew and I are Honorable Men, with ladyfriends waiting for us at home, so we then performed the least-effective cleaning job you've ever seen, simply pouring water from bottles and refusing to touch anything, despite her confused suggestions that we use our hands to wipe off the offending brown.
As we were fumbling our way through this interaction, a juggalo approached, intrigued.
Our new female friend explained the situation to him, and he promptly pushed us aside to take care of business. Drew and I walked away, wondering exactly what it means that, of all the people on the grounds, we were the ones that this girl chose to approach with this request. We may never be fully embraced by these people, but at least we aren't giving off a "sexual predator" vibe, I guess. That's gotta count for something.
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