This morning, I received an email about the problem Austin, Texas, is having with a new street gang–and I’m really using the term “street gang” here so loosely that the words seem only held together by the fact that they’re both in English–the Juggalos. Here’s the story.
There’s a new gang on APD’s radar. They call themselves the Juggalos. Police say they’re assaulting people in the entertainment district.
On Wednesday undercover APD gang officers hit some of the known hang outs of the Juggalos. They’re a relatively new group that gained the attention of the FBI last year and now has raised concerns among local police.
But, imagine, if you will, the awesomeness that must have been Austin yesterday with undercover police officers going to the known hangouts of Juggalos. Did they wear face paint? Did they bring their own bottles of Faygo? Did they pretend not to know how magnets work?
Oh, my god, you guys. While I was working on this post, my Austin informant wrote to tell me that she doesn’t even know what Faygo pop is and she speculates that, if the Juggalos somehow require this to function–which of course, they do–the lack of it in Austin could explain why the Juggalos are acting out.
Austin PD, here’s a solution to your Juggalo problem! Ply them with Redpop. Watch them become less agitated.
In slightly related news, can you think of another brand of soft drink where the name of the whole line was the famous moniker? Sure, there are some areas in the South where Coke almost functions like that.
“You want a Coke?”
“Sure, I’ll have a Sprite.”
But that’s not quite the same.
Also, I had to put this in the “pop culture” category because… well… I mean, because.
People, I honestly feel like this afghan is an epic battle between me and my ability to fuck shit up. And yet! I pieced together two blocks and found one of my missing squares. Even this morning, when I woke up, I wanted to shout “In your face!” at… well…. I guess I’m my biggest nay-sayer about this afghan. Shouting “In your face!” at yourself is a little weird.
So, I thought I might take a stroll around the neighborhood with my dog, strutting about as one does when she’s feeling proud of herself, but the dog refused to go. She went out to pee and then she went back to the door and stood there.
“Fine,” I said. And I went for our walk by myself. It was a little weird. And seemed ungodly long. But if I’m going to be a pirate, I have to learn to do things even when my crew mutinies. I tried to make Mrs. Wigglebottom walk the plank, but when she got to the end of it, there was just grass. So… you know…. being a land pirate is not as easy as the old pros like John Murrell made it look. Don’t even get me started on the problems I’m going to have getting my ship under the stop lights on Clarksville Pike. TDOT has made NOTHING in this state accessible to the land ships of land pirates. Which is why I’m totally going to fight them first. Once I get my cannon.
But it was beautiful this morning. Cold and a little foggy up in the hills and I was filled with this longing. I don’t know how better to explain it, but no matter how long I’ve lived here, when I walk in the morning I am overcome by this enormous longing to live right here. It’s weird, because I do live here. But somehow living here is not enough to quench my desire to live here.
I guess I’m lucky, then.