Skip to main content

Fat Tuesday Gig - Glenn Wilson





For Mardi Gras 1997, we had a show set up at the RC Bridge Lounge. Somehow we got White Flag to fly in and play the show Mardi Gras day. We got a call from the Supersuckers booking agent asking if we would book them. They were touring and were supposed to be shooting a video at the show. The line-up was the Supersuckers, White Flag, Sugartooth, and another that I can’t remember. The Supersuckers were the biggest rock star douchebags I have ever met. Total cocks. They were supposed to be filming a video and they weren’t. They were complete assholes to all of the other bands on the bill. They only played for 45 minutes. They had a ridiculous rider and a $750 guarantee plus 15% of the door after that. They were such dicks that we said fuck that and gave ‘em the $750. Somehow I was in charge of the money, I guess because I was least fucked up. When the time came I gave Doug Stevenson their money because he was the drunkest of us all…hahahaha. Their tour manager, some dude from the Dwarves, I think, didn’t like that and we told them to pack their shit up and get the fuck out. It turned into a pushing/shoving match in the middle of Magazine Street. Lynn and Ernie, who had a tattoo shop in Chalmette and who knew the Supersuckers from Seattle, were the voices of reason that night and the only reason the Supersuckers didn’t get their rock star asses beat. They left with the money we gave them and nothing more. Fuck those dudes. A few days later an entire case of their t-shirts showed up at the hangover inn and we gave them all away.






Glenn Wilson for many years was part of Alcoholic Sluts Productions which was a bunch of wastoids that put on underground punk shows in New Orleans. In addition to putting on shows he was involved with designing and making flyers for the gigs. When not promoting gigs and designing flyers Glenn could be found at one of the many bars on Decatur Street. Wilson has retired from making flyers and promoting shows.

Popular posts from this blog

Four Poems - JD DeHart

  An Ode to Heraclitus It’s true that nothing stays the same, the lead singer taking over the former crooner’s place, learning of death on a late Friday night,

Two Poems - Sonali Raj

If I were your dog If I were your dog I would begin by licking the hollow of your toes.

Eating From an Imaginary Spoon: Poems - Allison Grayhurst

Alive on your wave of wet torment, licking the moon of your lips, cradling your breath in my mouth as I held you submerged in my contracting core, held you within as you were within saturated with my pulse and flow. I went under, planted in the memories of your soul. You swallowed our merging with rapid speed. We evolved, stripped of every season, you and I with our initials carved on each other’s skin, undulating in our sensual, blessed commune. Eating from an imaginary spoon Sensual as clay laced with warm water, hard as a window barred - and still the seeds are thrown though I don’t know why - there is too much earth and almost no sun, there are slimy ponds that beasts and fowls eliminate in - spotted with dead-fish-eyes and not at all like heaven is suppose to be. There is a funeral in the fireplace but no one connected enough to mourn the dead thing burning. There are seven steps up and nine down, and indifferent cruelty has murdered every other form of synchronicity - I ...