A Sad World Without Exteme Elvis
Hunk a buning… something
I was living in San Francisco back in 2002. I had started dating this girl who was into poetry readings. Ugh. Yeah I know. I know. That’s irritating, what was beyond irritating is that she started dragging me to spoken word open mic nights that her friends ran. I was barely 21 and had only really been in a bar a couple of times. So here I am finally an adult, allowed to go into these forbidden places and… I get to listen to some stupid college kid whine about his boyfriend? Yuck. On my second forced night of this I sat there bored and pissed thinking, “I gotta dump this girl” and then something amazing happened. Extreme Elvis crashed the party.
The 300 pound, drunk, sloppy mess burst into the room and belted out his acapella rendition of In The Ghetto. He also slammed down two drinks that didn’t belong to him, took a bite of someone’s burger, forced his tongue into the mouth of a very very angry butch lesbian and kicked over two tables before he made his escape. The place was in shambles, everyone was in shock, I was in love. The organizer started freaking out and hysterically screaming “That fat fuck isn’t allowed in here, how the fuck did he get in and sign up???” I had just been exposed to Extreme Elvis.
I saw two Extreme Elvis shows that same year. It utterly destroyed my mind. For one show he rolled around in butter and bird seed and then had chickens brought out to peck at the corn on his crotch as he sang Love Me Tender. The highlight for the second was when he had the audience follow him into the restroom where he continued to sing as he took a shit. Can you say you’ve ever seen a grotesque whale of a man getting peed on by naked midgets during a concert? I can. He was everything G.G. Allen wanted to be, but dressed in the image of one of our nations demigods. Extreme Elvis was the foulest caricature of our country’s decadence and gluttony.
But of course, no one likes it when you pee on their god. (literally) Extreme Elvis was inundated with thousands of hate letters a day from angry Elvis fans and other Elvis Impersonators that really didn’t dig seeing their holiest obsession perverted to the point of madness. He started receiving death threats regularly. No shit kickers got to take him out though. His end was far more mundane and irritating. All Elvis impersonators are technically infringing on the Elvis image, but I guess Graceland gets to pick and choose. After being petitioned by nearly a million Anti-Extreme Elvis fans, a swarm of Graceland lawyers swooped down and crushed Extreme Elvis. If you visit his site, you will see the evidence of his final and very official defeat.
If Swellco & Swellco is really going to alter our depressing shitty world into a dark and twisted circus, I want them to resurrect the corpse of Extreme Elvis to be my ring master.
- Jimi Jam