This Is What Juggalo Food Looks Like
One of the true hardships that we face as a nation is the omnipresent problem of being surrounded by booze and stimulating foods. In the comforts of your own home, you may be able to curb your pizza roll addiction into having just a civilized cup of tomato soup. At the Gathering of the Juggalos, you face a different world.
Out here, it's harder than ever to think of your overall health as it becomes more about shoving as much crap into your body before a spray-painted golf cart driven by a man wearing nothing but overalls crashes into you.
If you're truly wise, the short-term questions like, "will this product make whiskey and bile shoot out of my nose" will still dart in and out of your conscious, non-reptilian brain.
I'm a gluttonous freak when it comes to food. I am the direct descendent of a man who once ate five pounds of lasagna over the course of five hours. So of course, I did what any decent journalist at a festival for drug-crazed and murderous clowns would do and gorged myself full of fried fat and processed sugar while studying the weird food of others.
I started with the pizza, which was not very good and was served in a disappointing, meager portion. The crust was bland but the sauce had a satisfying acidic taste. I did not get a picture of the slice that I threw up. However, the pizza sitting in the urinal should convey the right feeling I'm looking for. Curiously, the box for the pizza was right outside of the toilet, meaning someone opened the box up, took the pizza out, and smashed it into this urinal.
Drew Ailes Chicken on a stick! Drew Ailes Anarchist pretzels.
We capped off another evening of slamming warm beers and eating weak Jell-O shots with two helpings of Stoner Bowls.
Drew Ailes The stoner bowl. Drew Ailes The "walking taco."
Off the main drag, Juggalos also cooked up burgers and hot dogs on tiny grills, staring at us with apathy when asked if we could take a picture of their home-cooked cuisine. "they're just burgers, dawg," remarked a sunburnt kid wearing a matchy-matchy black and red t-shirt with black and red shorts. Another attendee cooked hot dogs, pork chops, and creamed corn in his tent.
On the third day of Juggalo Christmas, we heard the legend of The Burrito Guy, a creature hidden somewhere on the campgrounds that made the finest burritos known to man. Powered by an intense stomach-boner, I began asking person after person the next morning and afternoon where I could find The Burrito Man.
"I've been coming here for 12 years and I've never heard of that guy."
"I've heard of him. I've never seen him though. I think he's like, a unicorn or some shit." "I dunno, but they got burritos over at the turkey leg stand."
Drew Ailes Skinny Vinny.
But no story of celebrity encounter and an underdog grill champion from a small town in New York could derail my determination. It was necessary to find and consume these burritos. We met up with our trusted photographer, Nate "Igor" Smith, with the sole purpose of probing him for information. Quick on his feet, he immediately began leading us through alleyways of tents and campers. We stopped again to ask for help and got pointed into one direction. We peered into another tent and were sent the opposite direction.
Discouraged, we started talking about giving up. It was obviously a wild goose chase concocted to torture Gathering posers. Out of sheer desperation, we approached a dim tent in the distance with a guy on a megaphone trying to sell us drugs or beer. We approached them and asked for help.
"Y'all are looking for the burrito guy, huh," one of them asked, talking softly with the megaphone now silenced. "I can give you directions."
"Take us to him and I'll buy you a burrito," I stammered without hesitation.
Nate "Igor" Smith Bill Huntsmen, the "burrito guy." Drew Ailes The best thing you can eat at the Gathering of the Juggalos.