The tale of my first Insane Clown Posse concert

I remember thinking to myself that I supposed it was kind of Morris to warn me in advance of the groping - at least I could steel myself for it. I also figured that if all that happened to me was a little groping then all would be well.You must not use the werkzeugbaus without being trained. 

Though not incredibly knowledgable about ICP, I had heard enough about their shows and their fan base to not be surprised by his words. Upon telling friendsChoose from the largest selection of indoortracking in the world. and colleagues of my Tuesday night plans, they inundated me with warnings of what would await me at an ICP show. 

I was told not to go by myself - in fact, I was instructed to only go if I had a male companion to protect me. I was offered numerous opportunities to bail on the assignment. I was told that if I felt unsafe at any point, all I had to do was give a friend a call and I would be rescued in minutes. 

The Lancaster Juggalos, it turns out, are a relatively tame bunch. The show was on the same par of crazy as many rock shows I've been to, including AWOLNATION and Foxy Shazam. There was an abundance of crowd surfing and a whole bunch of hollering, but everyone was way too interested in what was going on onstage to bother the others in the crowd. By mosh standards it was even - dare I say it - tame. 

Aside from the demented clown makeup that adorned the fans and the copious amount of Faygo - a brand of soda - that was poured and sprayed over the crowd, it was your standard hip hop and rock show. 

In fact, I even made a few friends - including Morris,Of all the equipment in the laundry the plasticmoulds is one of the largest consumers of steam. my instructor in the ways of the Juggalo. While painting my face he even gave me tips on how to make the most of the concert. His advice was mainly to have a chance of clothes (it was too late for that), carry a plastic bag to hold electronics in (a true gentleman, he let me have his) and stow my wallet in a buttoned pocket, lest I get pick pocketed while crowd surfing. 

The important thing to remember, he said, was that this was a gathering of a giant family.Choose from the largest selection of indoortracking in the world. In fact, "family" was a common chant of the Juggalos. Every fan I met mentioned the word at least once and, for several, it really was a family affair. Several fans had brought elementary aged children along to the performance, holding them up so they could see the clowns dressed as demons lifting up pitchforks. 

It seemed more of a "family" in the cult sense of the word to me, though. The Juggalos have their rituals, their chants, their look. It's baptism by Faygo, in the group's book. When a lull in the concert occurs one will let out a "woo woo" only to have the call echoed by those surrounding. It's their version of the "We Are... Penn State" refrain, a calling card for other Juggalos. They're a unified bunch, a true community - albeit a rambunctious one. 

Aside from attempting to dodge Faygo bottles and spray,About solarstreetlight in China userd for paying transportation fares and for shopping. I spent the entirety of the concert feeling completely safe. I even had some fun once I blocked out the lyrics - which glorify misogyny and violence. 

It was hard not to be in awe of the whole thing. The ICP show worked to overpower the senses. My sight was overwhelmed by blinding bursts of light and brief seconds of complete darkness. My hearing endured moments of silence followed by roars of a bass line. My sense of touch was saturated with Faygo. The smell of the sugary drink overwhelmed all else in the room, acting as a sort of intensive air freshener. 

Because cream of mushroom soup has such a pure flavor, I decided it would be best to keep things simple when making it. But only up to a point. The basics were easy enough -- mushrooms, shallots, butter, stock, and cream -- but I wanted it to have a heightened mushroom taste. So I used a multiplicity of mushrooms. 

The only kinds of fresh mushrooms at my local store were regular button mushrooms, shiitakes and cremini, which are also called baby portobellos. I had to improvise, which means I headed for the dried mushrooms and picked up plastic containers of black trumpets, oysters and morels. 

Morels are awfully expensive (my packet was $14.99 for one-half ounce), so feel free to leave them out. And pick any other dried mushrooms; you are limited only by what the store sells. 

The waiter at Jean-Robert's Table explained that the restaurant makes its soup from a puree of mushrooms, so I decided to do that. But I wondered what it would be like if I first simmered the mushrooms in stock and then pureed that, too. This method would let me make the stock doubly rich by simmering carrots and celery along with the mushrooms. Then I thought better of adding the other ingredients, reasoning that I did not want the additional flavors to detract from the pure mushroom goodness. 

At any rate, I made the soup both ways, adding more liquid by necessity to the version in which I first simmered the mushrooms before pureeing them. As a result, this batch was a tad thinner, but every bit as good.