If anything Bloodbath and Beyond is a reflection of the times that we live in. As the standards of beauty become more and more rigid and the codes of acceptable conduct reach further into our personal lives, people are going to realize that society is driving them fucking nuts. Luckily for us, four fat dudes with instruments have created a miracle cure for the daily grind. That cure is called Bloodbath and Beyond and it’s an excuse to take your shirt off, get wasted, and let loose. Consisting of members of such bands as; Dillinger Four, Tiltwheel, J Church, and the Observers, Bloodbath and Beyond play a style of punk that holds nothing back. Your only option is to crack open a Sparks, take your shirt off, and avoid sensibility until the morning. Or preferably, early afternoon.
Todd: Who’d win a burrito-eating contest?
Mike: We’ve never had an official burrito eating contest, but every day is its own burrito eating contest, what with eating them as often as possible and all. Davey wins because he lives in San Diego where burritos are better and more plentiful than where the rest of us live. Ben would win a poutine-eating contest. Who could close out a buffet? Bloodbath And Beyond could!
Todd: Ben, why did you get a gorilla tattooed across your chest?
Ben: I got it ‘cause I saw the new version of King Kong and it just felt like the right thing to do.
Todd: Has your own chest hair come in and filled his fur in yet?
Ben: Yeah, once all the hair grows back, I’m going to shave around the gorilla, so it’s like a 3-D tattoo.
Todd: Davey, is it true that you, while dressed in the proper bowling attire as a banana, were stopped by Nevada Palace security?
Davey: All day long, right, I’m walking round encased in a banana suit. We got Santas, bunnies, a dinosaur, and a nun, plus a few Underoo-clad bodyguards. No one gives a shit except maybe a few coked-up Suicide Girls or something. People with oxygen tanks are cackling pieces of lung as I’m walkin’ through the casino, hangin’ at the bar, bowling, getting hitched, watching lasers and water, then I end up getting into it and storming off to the Nevada Palais. I’m walking through the casino, getting yelled at for some bullshit thing. Of course, all I can think about is, “You’re mad at a banana,” to try and keep my head straight. So I’m walking through the Palais. No one in our family is there and I’m headed for the room to go pout. When I pass the security booth, I hear, “Code six at security desk.” I turn around and make eye contact with the security guard—who sorta looks like Jabba the Hut and the Snapple lady—and I’m all, “That’s for me!” and started walking faster. I’m not worried or nothing. I probably did some jackass thing earlier in the day like pretending to poop real bananas at the buffet or something and I’d explain myself by saying “dickfarttits” and it’d all be over. We finally get outside and here comes Farva, who is running, but then he slows down and I hear him say, “Oh, it’s just you.” Apparently, he’d kicked us out of the restaurant the night before. Then I’m askin’ why he’s running and what’s with the code six shit and he clears the call and explains that six months prior, the Nevada Palace and the Luxor had been robbed by a guy in a banana suit. Apparently, he’d been caught at the Palace so they thought I’d come back for revenge or something. We talked about robbing and thievery and how it’s not the prize, it’s the challenge. We bum ciggies and he shows us his gun. He talks about bein’ in the service and how he can’t go to Iraq for some reason. I think I said, “Because you’re fat.” We talked for a while and then said lates and moved on. It was funny, but at least he told me he almost “took me out.” I told him he’d look pretty stupid getting his ass kicked by a banana.
Todd: Ben, what’s the best human encounter you’ve gotten from your comic, Snakepit?
Ben: Some dude came up to me at a party and was like, “Hey, dude, you’re Ben Snakepit, right?” and I said yes and he gave me two grams of hash.
Todd: Have there been any creepy encounters with people knowing you through Snakepit and instantly acting like your friend, even though you’ve never met them?
Ben: One time, a girl I’d never met drove from Portland, Oregon to Austin, Texas to come to my birthday party ‘cause she’d read about it on the internet. No joke. It wasn’t really that creepy though ‘cause she only talked to me for about two minutes. The rest of the time she stood in the corner by herself.
Todd: Davey, how many times have you broken your ribs in the past three years?
Davey: Between tailbone and ribs, I kinda lost count but I’ve been in steady pain for maybe three years. The worst part is it pretty much happens when I’m just sittin’ round or drinkin’ beers or something. I fell off a wall at the beach. I fell off the middle bar thingy at Cobalt in Vancouver. I fell off my planter thingy outside. I slipped in beer at bowling twice and ended up on my back in two days, just busting things that were already busted. The stupidest and most dangerous was Annie (Davey’s new bride) and me drinkin’ a spacebag at this campsite. These little Mexican kids are riding a quad around and Annie offers them five bucks to let us ride the thing. After some hagglin’, we end up zoomin’ down a dirt road, up a tree trunk, and flipping over. I’m on my back and she’s got her legs pinned under the thing. I manage to get the thing off her, roll the thing up over this rock, and we waddle on. Luckily, the ATV isn’t damaged so we get on and ride back. The little Mexican kids are playin’ in her car and we both say, “Thank you, thank you.” They’re all, “You wanna ride more?” “No thanks. Maybe later, bye!” As soon as they are gone, composure gets shit-canned and we’re bowing over in pain. I just got over that a week or so before the bowling tourney.
Todd: Mike, what’s been the best thing you’ve ever magic markered on somebody else’s chest?
Mike: “Sid Lives,” like Sid Vicious. It’s funny to write on passed-out punks.
Todd: Ben, did someone stick their finger your belly button, lick their finger, then get sick afterwards?
Ben: I really don’t remember that, although I’m sure it happened. My belly button is gross. The most memorable time was once I stuck my finger in my belly button and rubbed it on the microphone at a show one time. Every band complained that it stank but I never said anything about it… if somebody got sick from it, I don’t remember, but I do smoke a lot of weed so I may well have forgotten.