“He was banging his wooden sticks on anything he could find: small children's heads, boobies, people's gnarly caveman teeth, and even his own scrotum. What a blast!”

~ Rats

By Jayson Musson  |  Send to Friend

Dear Mr. Pack Of Rats,
Why does this city have so many DJs that call themselves DJs but they can't mix two songs together?

Signed,
Confused Ballet Dancer

Dear CBD:

Hmmm, Confused Ballet Dancer, this is a good question -- a question that has plagued the DJ since time immemorial when the cavemen first crawled out from their shit-filled caves to make music in worship of the sun by banging rocks against one another in orgiastic primitive glee over the sun’s life-giving powers. It started out with all cavemen simply using small rocks to bang on larger, denser rocks and the sound produced by such clamoring was the traditional music the cavemen thought appropriate for proper sun worship. Then one day, an rebellious caveman decided that he wanted to bang wooden sticks together instead of rocks and this sent all the cavemen into an uproar.

The wooden stick using caveman was like “What’s the big deal, guys? It’s just sound after all, and I’m sure the sun likes it just the same.”

But the old school, rock using cavemen were a stubborn bunch, they said unto the Stick User “Not only are you using goddamn sticks to produce sound, which is an insult in and of itself, you’re also doing it the wrong way. What the fuck is that beat you’re making with them things? It’s sounds like Stuttering Ned for Chrissakes.”

“H..h…h…hey! I r…r..r….resent that!” Said Stuttering Ned the caveman.

So the Stick User found himself at odds with the more technically proficient rock-using cavemen and he sure did feel alone, and if he only knew what masturbating was then he would have been able to just do that and feel better about things, but he was a caveman and cavemen didn’t yet know about man's greatest invention, so the stick-using caveman was pretty bummed about being an outcast amongst his people.

“Fuck these dudes,” he thought, “So what if my banging is a bit off, and I use sticks and my banging sounds like Stuttering Ned, it’s just supposed to be fucking fun!”

Saddened to a great degree, when it seemed like no one wanted anything to do with him, the Stick User was eventually approached by a female caveman, I mean cavewoman, or, uh, caveperson, and when this cavewoman saw how sad the Stick User was, she consoled him by gently rubbing on his back which gave him an embarrassing errection.

“Aww, don’t be sad, Stick User," she purred, "I don’t think your off-kilter stick banging is too shabby. It’s definitely not the tightest or most rhythmic clamoring to the sun I’ve heard, but you have an interesting selection of sounds that you do make with your sticks. It’s very unique. In fact, a few of my girlfriends secretly like your weirdo epileptic stick banging and we wanted to know how much it would cost to have you bang your sticks at this party we’re throwing next Monday in honor of the sun.”

The Stick User was delighted beyond all measure, and saying that the party the cave ladies held was a success would be an understatement. It was off the fucking chains. When the rock using cavemen saw how much fun the cavewomen were having at the party, they were outraged and became jealous of the Stick User.

“How come all the girls are at his party for the sun?” One of the rock using cavemen said.

“He can’t even bang on beat!” Another rock-user said.

“Yeah, he and his twigs make sounds that sound like goddamn Stuttering Ned giving a lengthy lecture on the Sky God, nude during a snow storm!”

“H..h…h…hey! A..a…asshole! I r…r..r….resent that!” said Stuttering Ned the Caveman.

In no time at all the Stick User’s popularity grew as one of the best cavemen to bang on just about anything since the art of banging on stuff to worship arcane deities and mythologized, simple aspects of the natural world began.

People said, “That Stick User sure knows how to have fun!”

“That Stick User may not be that good at keeping a beat but I find his playful approach in banging on sticks to be exotic and now my sexual organs are aroused.”

“I… I… I… t….. think th…t…that..t…t he’s a pret…t….ty nice dude,” said Stuttering Ned the Caveman.

The rock using cavemen couldn’t take the Stick User’s newfound popularity lying down, so they decided to stage their own blow out Sun Worshipping Party To End All Sun Worshipping Parties Party, which, according to the crude Paleolithic flyers they managed to carve, promised ‘a grand showing of skill and expertise in the art of rock banging that won’t sound like Stuttering Ned.' When the Stick User saw this flyer, he decided that he wouldn’t take this obvious insult lying down, so he too decided he’d have his own sun party on the very same day the rock using cavemen would have their party in order to decide through direct competition who was better at worshiping the sun by banging on stuff. Lacking in the manpower it would take to carve the flyers he needed to advertise, the Stick User simply relied on word of mouth and what the words that came out of his mouth mostly said to people was “Please come to my sun party, it will be fun.”

And fun his party was.

While on the other side of town, the rock using cavemen banged methodically in the old ways that everyone was familiar with, displaying for all who came to see what true rock banging skill was. The problem, however, was that the only people who came to the see the rock users were lame, elderly, tragically nostalgic and boring. They all hung around with their leopard skin backsatchels on and nodded their heads coolly as if they were in a Digable Planets music video. Yawn.

Meanwhile, the Stick User was wiling the fuck out at his party. He was banging his wooden sticks on anything he could find: small children’s heads, boobies, people’s gnarly caveman teeth and even his own scrotum. What a blast! He even invited people to bang sticks together with him and when people exhibited apprehension at his invitation by saying they didn’t know how to bang on things properly, he assured them that there is no proper way, that they should just enjoy the sound that they make, and be themselves in doing it. So people followed his lead and everyone at the party, though lacking in experience, banged on all types of shit until the sun set, while the rock using cavemen gave up and subsequently discovered masturbation by beginning what became the first ever circle jerk while chanting “HIP-HOP LIVES!”

The motherfucking moral of all this:

Who gives a fuck about DJ skills when a girl is grinding her ass against your dingaling? It’s a party, nigga!

YO SON! You gotta some problems? I sort them the hell out! Ask Rats!