August 2003

Dingleberry Dynasty at Fletcher's in Baltimore

On Friday, June 25th, Bigfoot, Godzilla and I rode the Water Taxi over to Fell's Point in Baltimore to see Trainwreck live in concert. Trainwreck is a traveling 70's revival/Tenacious D-tribute band, and they had the D's Kyle Gas on stage with them. We were pretty psyched about the whole thing. We went upstairs just before the bands started so we could start getting loaded.

The first opening band sounded alright at first, but they were mostly lame. They might have wanted to sound like Wilco but sounded more like Train. MTV2 dreams, but a VH1 reality.

They were from Virginia, AND the lead singer got his poor heart broke one too many times. Yeah, they didn't rock all that much. I don't even remember their dumb name. I'll forever call them "Waiting for Carrie." Why? Because they probably were singing about being dumped.

After the sissy-boys of lameness left the stage to cry, I needed another beer. Actually, I needed two. After I got the beers I needed so badly, another opening band took the stage and rocked my little world. He he he.

Milling around the floor during the Waiting for Carrie disaster, I could not help noticing a very strange looking character. He was about my height, but thin, and wearing a ton of eye-liner. I had him pegged for one of Trainwreck's more rabid fans, but I was wrong. He was with the next band - Dingleberry Dynasty!

Honestly, after the first crappy band, I was not high on hearing what was coming next. My beers were ready, tho', and that helped.

Dingleberry Dynasty started the show off with a kick-ass rendition of Pink Floyd's "In the Flesh". I was impressed. Because they had three guitarists, they were able to rock at an level unattainable for the previous band. After the cover, they came forth with their own rockin' songs.

To say that Double-D were 'glam' would be selling them short, but there was a serious glam influence in their stage show. Sexy, humorous, and disgusting songs followed one after the other. I stood in the back of the room, not quite sure about what to do, but when one of the guitarists left the stage, only to return in a dildo costume, I was moved to get closer to the stage. I needed to see and feel more of this show.

These nutcases were all over the place. Each song, while pretty much farce lyrically, were delightfully sexy. Unable to make out with my wife at that very moment, I stood there, in the middle of the crowd, touching myself. Cargo pants are a blessing.

The final song of their set was "Brown Star", a song about the super-hero protector of small white guys about to be anally raped in prison. Brown Star saved the day, but not before he and Big Gay Ben duked it out on the floor in front of the stage. They got everyone covered in fluids, and we could almost taste the justice. It made me very happy.