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The Bozo Porno Circus Diaries: Sid, the Evil Sex and Drug Clown

If you never saw a Bozo Porno Circus show then you just plain missed out. The Tone Zone Records band was a freak-out and a half, stuffed to the wall with loud noises and pretty girls getting sparks shot off their metal-covered crotches by belt sanders. Recently, lead guitarist Chris "The" Lane (AKA Crispy and for a brief hilarious time Nikki Wykkid) uncovered a treasure trove of tour diaries and photos, so in the next few days we're heading down a well of Houston-flavored debauchery from the glory days of our goth scene.

The Bozo Porno Circus Diaries: Sid, the Evil Sex and Drug Clown

Our group reached Atlanta around four in the afternoon. The venue looked like an enormous dance club from the outside -- basically just a huge concrete box, but we had been told that it was a fetish club that featured gothic and industrial music. There's one in every major city, it seems.

The club was cavernous on the inside, most of which was a dance floor, and on one end was a very big raised stage, a nice professional job that looked appropriate for large bands or plays, not the disappointing "cobbled together by a cheap bar owner" platforms that we often encountered.

I was exhausted from hours of driving and traveling. The venue was empty except for a few of the bar staff, but our promoter had promised us a place to shower, and at that point I was very interested in washing the road funk off of myself.

It turned out that the shower facilities were a bit different than normal. The club had a shower room set up for fetish performances, something I had not encountered before. Essentially, it was a large room with stadium style seats all facing three small platforms in the middle that had showers on them.

Being in Bozo Porno Circus had pretty much broken me of any remaining reservations about being naked or changing in front of people, but it was somewhat disconcerting to take a shower in the middle of a large empty room with a bunch of seats facing me. It was a very good shower though, and did the trick.

There was a large crowd gathered by the time we played, and that was always a good thing, so the show went on without a hitch. After the show, I ventured out into the crowd to check out what Atlanta's scene had to offer.

My experiences playing Fetish Balls and the like were a mixed bag. There were usually a population of the area's gothic crowd, and then older weirdos, swingers, and various kinds of hard-to-categorize perverts. Atlanta's fetish community seemed to have an assortment of people fitting into those general groups.

Middle-aged people wearing fangs and Victorian clothing, mixed in with creepy nearly naked older hippies, and younger goths wearing lots of latex.

 

The Bozo Porno Circus Diaries: Sid, the Evil Sex and Drug Clown

A fairly attractive woman struck up a conversation with me at the bar, and invited me to hang out the next day, but she was with a guy, and they had a distinct swinger kind of vibe about them. I made small talk and then told her I had to go backstage and check my gear.

"If you want to get together tomorrow call me," she said. "Gotcha, thanks," I countered, then headed to the van, suddenly completely exhausted.

We were staying with "Sid," an old friend and former clown that had performed with the band in Houston. He had been involved with the band before my time, and I was told that he was a "character" -- that he had been forced to flee Houston after he accidentally caught a club on fire during a Bozo show. "Interesting," I thought, wondering what we were walking into.

The exodus from Houston had landed Sid in a small town about an hour outside of Atlanta. He was making a comfy living as a locksmith in the area, and when we pulled up to the address we had for him, it turned out that he was living in a huge old building located on a picturesque old Southern town square. It looked like Mayberry, and his place was fairly impressive.

The building was over 100 years old, and had been renovated nicely. It reminded me of the kinds of large lofts that you always see in movies about New York. Very nice. Sid seemed friendly too, his former career as a pyromaniac clown not withstanding. He had a kind of good 'ol boy feel about him, and just let us all invade his place.

Sid seemed to have a lot going on -- there was a steady stream of male and female visitors through his home, and I got the impression that Sid probably had certain chemical hobbies, although I never confirmed that. We stayed with him for several days, and Sid's world was pretty crazy.

On the first night there, I found a loft to sleep in, and was horrified to find an ashtray filled with what looked like used condoms. About the same instant that I made that discovery, Sid fired a bottle rocket into the loft.

After a while on tour, you learn to take these sorts of things in stride.

Tune in Monday for more of the Bozo Porno Circus diaries.

Jef With One F is a recovering rock star taking it one day at a time. You can read about his adventures in The Bible Spelled Backwards or connect with him on Facebook.

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