Archive for the Slim Category

4 Drink Minimum Tour Diary

Posted in Drunk, Gay Paris, Horror, Nerd, Slim, Southern Horror, Swamp Rock, Sydney with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on 18/05/2011 by gayparis

He's way past the minimum at this point.

Tour Diary part 1
Tour Diary part 2
Tour Diary Part 3


Taking The Throne: cooling down

Posted in Black Tooth, Blues, devil, Drunk, Slim, Smokin D, Southern Horror, Swamp Rock, Sydney, Tour, WH with tags , , , , , , , , , on 22/02/2011 by gayparis

So, the Taking The Throne tour is over and everyone survived, everything intact bar a touch of dignity, terrible hangovers and some embarrassing bruises in strange places.
Highlights included:
Late night after party in Newcastle with Brothers Grim & The Blue Murders and Kira Puru & The Bruise. Let’s just say that I bit off more than I could chew, lost my favourite kicks, Slim’s iPod and a few hours of my memory. How BZ and me made it back to Sydney in one piece, I’ll never really know. I don’t think that I want to.
Selling out The Vanguard. Okay, there was more to it than that. I think we finished the rider well before Kira and her boys even went on, but luckily, that is a venue that knows how to look after its acts. Needless to say, everyone was well liquored to hell and by the time we hit stage, the people of Sydney obviously in the same sinking ship. You can check photos of that gig over at FasterLouder.
Katoomba hooked us back up with our sister/brother band, The Snowdroppers. Far and away our best time in the mountains so far, it was just a bummer that we had to leave early to swing back to Sydney for an early morning film clip shoot. May the Morning Star preserve all who took part in that evil, evil day.
Catching a plane to Melbourne instead of driving and having a surf rock loving cab driver get us to the airport. What a guy!
Opening for BG&TBM in their home town. Great sound, great sound guy and watching James Grim shake his centaur sized ding-a-ling. Unfortunately, this was also the night that my nocturnal/slumbering wanderings and ramblings were at their most disturbing.
After picking up my little sister, KL Conroy from Melbourne airport, we drove to Ballarat. Gangsta rap and the road only gets better when she begins with her whorish ramblings. What a time! The Yard Apes packed out the venue and we got to really give it to the ladies and gents before we grabbed Blue Murder, Devlin and under the instruction of James, undertook a post midnight, booze and truckstop food fuelled race back to Melbourne for a ‘shirts off, pants off’ rave. Ironic dancing has never felt that good.
Wow. What a fucking final gig! After James dropped some Public Enemy styles the night before, we hit back with our ODB cover. That was good to get off our chests. Not only that, but the bar was packed well before doors opened and the place was ready to party. Nothing changed all night and it was great to catch some dudes and chicks that we haven’t seen in years. I even saw my old ‘zine editor. We’re going to resurrect something that should have stayed dead. Stay tuned.
Tour AwardsLeast Sleep: Ol’ Blacktooth Marks
Worst Jokes: KL Conroy
Keeping Shit Together: BZ
Most Money Spent on Food: Smokin’ D
Most Money Spent on Booze: BZ
Most Booze Consumed: BZ/WH
Most Rhymes Dropped: WH
Night Rider Driving : Slim Pickin’s
Best Hosts: Ham, Damien and Charles Barkley
Craziest Legs: Slim Pickin’s
Most Showers: Ol’ Blacktooth Marks
Biggest Power Playa: BZ

More Night Life with Slim and WH

Posted in fantasy, Gay Paris, Slim, Southern Horror, WH with tags , , on 17/01/2011 by gayparis

“Wrong answer, fucko.”
I hit him right in the drooling mouth and that piece of shit goes down, bleeding and missing teeth.
Slim is losing blood too and our man prolly caught whatever Mr Pickins has, dude messes with some weird shit.
Demons, I hear.
Whatever he can afford that will fuck back.
He’s not pretty. OK, he’s gorgeous.
I get it. Can’t judge. Won’t.
Our man is a liar and he’s down.
“Step off, Slim.” I say. Flip my grip to the dirt, right at this guy.
He’s sobbing and saying ‘no.’
He’s saying it enough to piss me off and my temper ain’t nowhere near as bad as this fucking tall redhead at my side.
“What, fucker?” Screams Slim in an eerie half volume.
Have another cigarette, asshole, it will do wonders for your diction.
The shit head is pissing himself.
Literally pissing himself and wringing his hands.
He’s saying commercial prayers, right to our faces like we’re a couple of amateur off the book thugs.
Fuck this. We’re professionals.
“Tell us where he is, shit for lungs, last chance. Slim, assure this asshole that your shit is loaded.”
“Fuckin’ ay loaded, WH. I’m a fucking professional.”
“You know what that makes you, you rat fuck piece of shit?”
The guy is crawling towards us, clawing at his cock and face.
Like that makes a difference.
It’s almost worrying.
Boom bap bap.
That is the rhythm.
It’s almost hip-hop and when his body spatters on the floor, there’s the bass line.
If you got the chronomamcy to slow this down, you’d get a good break.
That’s how they catch it.
Shit like this always happens so fast.
I can’t stand happy hardcore and BPM.
Give murder back it’s art.

Back in my apartment.
Stinks like a fucking grease fire.
I make Slim smoke on the rotting balcony.
Nice view of the hotel car park.
Android hookers standing in a line, not even hiding their plates.
Dudes drive by, casual, but the whores are too poorly made.
Even for this neighbourhood.
I bet my cash is real good here.
Real good.
Moral even.
“It’s on your hands, Prophet,” says the tall fuckwit.
My partner. Right?
He coughs and hits again.
Delicious smoke tendrils in ambient light.
I love how it flickers. Crazy light.
Crazy , tall. sonofabitch.
No nicotine in the house.
As much ‘drine as I can handle though.
Can’t he smell it? Like piss and vinegar and mothballs.
I can’t handle it anymore.
Too many moths come to visit.
Now I gotta be wary.
You can’t trust a knife or gun when they flutter in.
You can’t trust yourself.
I spit. It’s a long way down.
A droid-whore looks up at me, red trigger eyes focusing.
Fuck off, I sign.
She/it flickers back at me in binary.
I get it. I just don’t care what she is getting at.
The sluts scatter when a noisome pack of Bird-cops wheel past.
Carrying body bags. Half a dozen.
Half a dozen of each.
So low.
They ignore us of course.
Whatever they’re dealing with is so much bigger than us.
Far as they know.

“It’s on your fucking hands, you piss poor prophet!” I say.
Standing right behind him.
He towers down.
He doesn’t turn around.
Just takes a raw drag on another cigarette.
Reeks like fucking Hades junk.
I cough. Not politely,
“You wanted to pump him,” says Slim.
“The fuck I did. You were mad.”
“Should I be, shit?”
My hands are scarred with teeth.
“Yeah, don’t hit ‘em in the mouth, Hubris .”
Is he going to hit me in the mouth?
He laughs.
“Ah, cocksucker had it coming.”
“Unprofessional.” I grin.
“Fuckin’ ay.”

The Night Before Gay Parisian Christmas

Posted in Berserker Of God, Black Tooth, Blues, devil, Drunk, fantasy, Gay Paris, god, Horror, Nerd, Slim, Smokin D, Southern Horror, WH with tags , , , on 10/12/2010 by gayparis

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house

Gay Paris were drinking, but not passing out;

The booze was all lined up on the mantle with care,

Cuz eight bitches would soon be ‘ right up in here’;

Slim Pickins was dancing, both poppin’ and locks,

Cuz Slim is a B-Boy that loves to up-rock;

And with his bandanna on under his hat,

WH busted, the illest of raps,

Then from the kitchen, there came a great clatter
Smokin’ D emerged with a gourmet style platter.

“Quiet down, you bastards,” cried out Blacktooth,

“I’m watching Christmas Vacation, National Lampoons!”

The hos all arrived and exposed their large breasts

Belly shots of whiskey are what happened next,

And every one laughed and they drank and they ate,

Even Miss BZ, who showed up so late,

Driving a Benz right through the window,

With K. ‘Whoremouth’ Conroy and some powder like snow ,

Oh what a Christmas, Oh Lord, what a ruckus!,

They chanted ‘Wu-Tang ain’t nothin’ to fuck wit!’ ;

“Now, Hot Dick! Now, Slim! now, Blacktooth, WH!

When you throw a party we know they’ll be great!”

To the top it all of, they paid for the whores!

And drove away quickly, distracting the cops,

Who had recently received, an anonymous tip,

Most likely the Snowdroppers, who felt they’d been dissed,

Gay Paris though, had sent invitations,

Intercepted by Tenderloins, who had trepidations,

Of partaking in pleasures that veer to excess

They kept them at home, tucked up in their beds.

GP raised their glasses and drank it all down,

When down their Chimney came a wonderful sound.

Dressed like the 20s had never quite finished,

The ‘droppers arrived crying ‘Yo! Now we up in this!’;

A bundle of booze was strapped to their backs,

And Cougar and London were so high on crack!

Johnny and Pauly, were tell tale gin drinkers;

Their noses so pink, like prostitute nipples!

The guys partied down with their hookers and blow,

With beer, wine and spirits, did I mention the hos?

They all got crunk and down like South West,

Slim battled Cougar and came out the best;

Johnny and WH talked of some books,

But in between notes, they did bourbon shots.

Blacktooth and Pauly were so busy riffing,

They never realised the fun they were missing!

London and Hot Dick were mixing bad drinks,

And drinking them down before they could think;

Then God appeared and spoke of his works,

But WH said, “bitch, I’ll battle you, jerk”;

And running his hand up the face of a ho,

He smote God with fury and the dopest of flows;

YHWH, Adonai, Jehovah and Christ,

You created the world? Nah, but what what about science?

The Devil appeared and tried to make nice,

“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night.”

A Night In The Life Of WH

Posted in Black Tooth, Drunk, Gay Paris, Horror, Slim, Sydney, WH with tags , , on 03/12/2010 by gayparis

I had spent the night in a holding cell in Newtown police station. The cops roughed me up some, but then again, maybe I shouldn’t have run my mouth.
“Hey, pig, they’re some ugly fucking shoes, nice to see that you got the face to match.”
Yeah, that one cost me.
It took two of them to throw me into the back of their wagon. I’m not strong, but I can wriggle and I was good and greased up.
“I can’t get hold of him,” said the fat one, gin blossom nose squashed and wet with snot. The fucker was literally drooling in anticipation of getting me in private.
“Hold this, you bastard.” I really need to learn to keep my trousers on in these situations. I guess a normal dude would think ‘I really need to stop getting into these situations,’ but then again, y’all know damn well who I am.
As soon as we got in, I could smell piss. The station was empty but for night clerk or whatever the fuck you call the guy who sits on his ass all night, browsing internet porn, answering phones and drinking coffee.
“Are you going to clean that cell before you put me in?”
They didn’t. Fuckers took my shoes, wallet, rings and belt. Then they found my switch blade. It’s a real nice piece, an antique actually, brass inlaid with gold and a goddamned sharp blade.
“What’s this for?”
“Hey, it’s a dangerous world, dude. Why, just tonight I was jumped by two big fuckers with more gut fat than sense.”
Pow. Right in the mouth.
Eventually, they had to let me go when they dragged in a couple of transvestites who had held up the 7-11 and were raising hell of biblical proportion.
I stumbled home, fuckers hadn’t given me back my shoes, wallet or knife, but at least I had my belt.
I didn’t have my keys, so I climbed through the window and went straight to the fridge, Coopers Green takes the edge off.
After a couple of medicinal whiskey shots, I heard a noise coming from the bedroom. What now?
I walked down the hall and threw the door open.
My man, Slim, fucking my ho!
“Slim, the fuck, man?”
“Hey, WH, a bitch is a bitch.”
“You goddamn right, Slim.”
Later on that day, Slim and me went shoe shopping.

More art by Annie

Posted in Gay Paris, Slim, Southern Horror with tags , , on 20/11/2010 by gayparis

Lookin good, Slim.


Posted in Black Tooth, Blues, Courtesy of Alice Amsel, Drunk, Fox Queen, Gay Paris, Horror, live music, Model: Sarah Lea Cheesecake, Nerd, Photo Courtesy Of Mikey A Hamer, Slim, Smokin D, Southern Horror, Swamp Rock, Sydney, sydney band, WH with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on 14/09/2010 by gayparis

OK, for those who don’t know (and you damn well should by now), we have a month long ‘residency’ of sorts at the Supper Club on Oxford Street in Sydneyoh, you droll bastards</em>, Gay Paris, you are thinking, what a way to out yourselves! But what we’d really like is for you to climb into the closet with us – it’s full of a hell load of wonderful shit!
Wonder shit? Sounds like something out of a China Miéville novel – but enough of that (for now).

Here is the complete list of what will happen each and every night – OK, I don’t really know who the Djs are yet and if that is important, check back in a bit, or stay home and watch old Kung-fu flicks in your underpants, drinking orange drink and rotting your teeth. What a life!



Gay Paris It’s us, so trust it.
The Beards That’s right, if their drummer’s arse is healed and they aren’t scared off by our hirsute dominance, we’re teaming up with these gentle giants of the Beard-folk scene.
Brothers Grim Considering that they’re so damn attractive, I don’t see why they’d have the blues, they probably get more ass than rap guys.
Contraban Hot to def , so young, so fresh, get your glam with a bang!


Mitzi McKenzie-King I call her Mitzapooh, she calls me Lukey-doo.
Mikey Hamer Dude did our film clip and photos for the record, so you know he is money – plus he is about 6’ 9” and has flaming red locks that would make a Scottish hero of folkloric legend weep into his whiskey and haggis in pure envy.
Rhonda Quinane Trust me, I live with her and the house is so full of art that I’m becoming more cultured by the nanosecond, or it could be this bottle of Merlot (yes, Merlot, you fucking wine snobs).
Paul Tooth This guy? Designed our new merch and has the smoothest game this side of Snoop Dogg circa 1993.
Craig Slater




Gay Paris No, I don’t get sick of typing that
Jack Nasty Face Just when you thought no one had any style, BOOM!
La Mancha Negra Oh my! God made dirt so dirt don’t hurt…
Dirty Lindy Sometimes, you just gotta smooth it out, these cats know what we talking about.


Felter Skelter (Anna Christoffersen & Emily Parsons-Lord)
Leigh Rigozzi
Bec Cook
Belinda Dipalo
Danielle Sullivan & Carl Gobey




Gay Paris while most get better with age, we started out fantastic and have now transcended mortal comprehension. By this point, it will be religious.
The Rumjacks think they can drink us under the table but the real point of interest is going to be what happens once we’re all under that rotten, beer soaked trestle.
Betty Airs This is a bonafide super group consisting of dudes who have been in Run! Hide! And Gerling.
Mother &Son Two dudes doing the job of a whole band – yeah, it normally only works in hip hop, but this is dem real razor blade blues.


Lisa Bowen
Anastasia Freeman
Anni Linklater
Sarah Gleeson




Gay Paris
time for the wolf dance, people, cuz we’re bringing him with us to this show
Hell City Glamours yeah, they’re way too big to be in a supporting role but then they lost the dance off. Suck it. Oh and they’re playing new songs.
The Smokestack Orchestra down to the nitty gritty, these guys have supported Clutch and nearly got us drowned, so you know it all good.
The Watt Riot these sweet bastards don’t play nearly enough shows, so we’ve got it in blood that they will show up.


Steven Nuttall
Alice Amsel – She’s probably a fox queen too.
Richard Gurney
Melita Wrathall
Jay Tansley
Paul Tooth – It’s that guy again!
Leigh Rigozzi


So we got our sweetheart Weezy to whip up some monstrous concoctions

Deadrie’s Dogpark Caprihina has cachaca, blueberry liq, limes and berry pure

The Holy Sucker whiskey, Benedictine, lemon and lime juice with a touch of sugar syrup

Big Bleeder vodka, pomegranate liqure, cranberry juice and fresh lime

Green Devil Green Tea, Madori topped with either soda or pineapple juice

Death To Spring Break Cointreau with Red Bull

A Goddamn Body Bag Scotch Whisky & Amaretto

Pre-cum Tia, Ameretto and amarula

Wormtongue Apple Liq, Absinthe, Apple Juice and sugar rim

if you haven’t checked out the clip and new songs, head over to our myspace and if you haven’t got tickets yet, head over to