What is a Juggalo, you might ask? A Juggalo is one of the dim-witted,
wannabe gansta-rap “horror-core” rap-loving followers of everyone’s favorite lovers of stupidity, Insane Clown Posse (ICP).
My ex Tim and I met in the last 90s in New York City when I was living with my mother. This is what I refer to as the “Pre-ICP Years,” because Tim hadn’t yet discovered the wicked warriors or become “down with the clown.” We spent most of our early years as high school sweethearts and started a family not too long after we graduated. When I discovered I was pregnant, we decided to move closer to my dad in Ohio so I could take classes at the University of Cincinnati.
My dad, at the time, lived in a little piece of hell outside of Cincinnati called Hamilton. The locals, however, called it “Hamiltucky,” and the locals “Hamil-billies.” This is where Tim discovered the Insane Clown Posse.
It started small at first, and to be honest, I don’t believe Tim ever really took to Juggalo-ism, not the way his buddies (and unfortunately all their kids) did. I think to truly understand what it means to be a Juggalo, you need that perfect mix of drug use, second hand smoke exposure as a child and fetal alcohol syndrome, which Tim simply didn’t have. But in that motley crew of dirty clown lovers, Tim found a home, and he clung to it, even when they would tease him about his love of learning.
Seriously, they hate learning. This is ICP front man “Violent J” a.k.a Joseph Bruce fumbling to make an analogy about how much science sucks:
“Well,” Violent J says, “science is… we don’t really… that’s like…” He pauses. Then he waves his hands as if to say, “OK, an analogy”: “If you’re trying to fuck a girl, but her mom’s home, fuck her mom! You understand? You want to fuck the girl, but her mom’s home? Fuck the mom. See?”
Fuck the mom indeed. Sounds like the only person that fucked his mom was his uncle. The only thing ICP loves more than ragging on higher learning (if by “higher” you mean “beyond the third grade”) is wearing ridiculous clown makeup, donning hatchet man jewelry and inciting gang-related crime.
Witness Violent J in all his makeupy goodness:
Below are some of the fascinating and ridiculous things I learned about Juggalo “culture.” The scariest part? This COULD HAVE BEEN ME.
1. Juggalettes are encouraged to have kids way too young
During my time with a Juggalo, I learned a few
disturbing valuable things about this strange little Midwestern sub-culture. Like the fact that female Juggalos, or what they like to call “Jugglettes” or “Ninjettes,” and their baby daddies start having babies even earlier than I did. Now, I’m not trying to knock teenage parents here, but Juggalos take “teen parenting” to the next level. It shouldn’t even be called teen parenting. It should be called teen “making your parents raise your baby while you listen to terrible faux rap music and drink Faygo“ing.
(Photo: Old Creeper)
2. Juggalos give their babies Faygo
Fucking Faygo. If you don’t know what Faygo is, first let me congratulate you. You’ve done well in life. Faygo is pretty much the cheapest, shittiest soda you can buy. It makes RC Cola look like Dom Perignon. Juggalos drink this swill like it’s going out of style. Which is funny, because Faygo was never in style. ICP literally douses their audience with it. I honestly suspect that the reason why these people grow up to be so dim is all the Faygo that their parents give them in lieu of formula.
3. Juggalettes smoke and drink during pregnancy. All.The.Time
There has never been a group of people that brought out my inner sanctimommy as much as these violence-obsessed douche rockets do. I’m not “down with the clown” which makes me a “juggahoe.” It is what it is. But It must have something to do with how much their hero Violent J hates science and fact, because I never saw more preggos smoke and drink than when I was living in an apartment complex filled with Juggalos and Juggalettes. Seriously, the scene below was a common one:
This Ninjette mom-to-be has everything; hatchet man necklace around her neck, cigarette in hand, and her huge pregnant belly fully on display, including an eerily accurate portrait of her little ninja-to-be drawn on, clown makeup and all. #Klassy. Then there is this…
First off, the paint on this poor newborn’s face is almost certainly toxic, because Juggalos are DUMB. You can even see the look of fear and horror on this little guy’s face. You just know he’s thinking “What the fuck did I do in a former life to deserve this shit?” I don’t know, little buddy. I don’t know. Juggalo parents put this crap on their kid’s face all the time. For no reason. Tim was dying to do this to our daughter, but I put my foot down. Even if it wasn’t toxic, I didn’t want to advertise my low standards by putting clown makeup on my kid so people would know I bred with one. NOPE.
4. There is no such thing as a feminist Juggalette
My favorite part of this picture isn’t the multiple poorly drawn ICP-related tattoos these two sport (check out her neck tattoo), though that is definitely a close second. No, my favorite part is the caption:
“See, women do let Juggalos sleep with them. Sometimes without a condom. These proud Juggalo parents will someday raise their own Juggalo, instilling in it the core values of all Lo’s and Lette’s: You must always notice and recognize miracles and Faygo-brand pop is meant to be sprayed on women’s boobies.”
There you have it folks. Juggalo family values.
5. Entire families will dress up in the ICP gear to hang out
Lest you think that only infants are allowed in on the clown-o-licious fun, I show you exhibit A : A Juggalo family in their natural habitat. But wait, what’s that? Is that a Dr.Pepper I spy at the older
dude’s Jugga-douche’s feet (I’m guessing he’s the dad)? Considering the rich history of insanely CRAZY crime from the Juggalo culture, I think he needs to watch his back. Drinking anything but Faygo is tantamount to treason. Or it will be once they figure out what treason is.
I refused to dress up like a moron to go to the mall with my formerly sane husband, which of course got me labeled a “hater” and a “trendy bitch” (by his friends). It was bad enough being seen in public with Tim in his hatchet clothing and cheap, Halloween makeup.
6. Juggalos love drugs and cheap malt liquor (no, really)
The fact that you will find most Juggalos in meth country is not coincidence. Juggalos LOVE doing drugs and drinking.
The look on this baby’s face is priceless. She’s definitely thinking “What the ACTUAL fuck is this guy doing. Also, PBR sucks.” She’s a very precocious baby.
Juggalos like drugs, though thankfully not my ex. I was lucky that my ex came in late to the Juggalo game, so he wasn’t raised in a cloud of meth smoke and sticky Faygo residue. But for the most part, Juggalos like drugs like Eve Vawter likes taking down DudeBros.
Don’t believe me? Here are some real signs that were documented at various “Gathering of the Juggalo” festivals. (The gathering website reminds me of my AOL profile, circa 1997.)
Does that second part say quaaludes? I guess they didn’t get the memo that those don’t exist anymore. Oh well.
I like this sign. It’s simple, to the point and probably got the job done. This guy seems halfway intelligent, he must be the king-juggalo. Naw, they hate smart people. He was probably stoned in the parking lot.
Why yes you do. But not the ones you’re looking for.
I think drug-math is the only type of math Juggalos know.
So there you have it. I actual bred with one of these people (and he’s an okay guy, if you can get past the wicked clown garbage).
Tim and I eventually split up, obviously. I won’t blame it entirely on ICP or Juggalo culture, though refusing to play clown dress up and respect his music choices certainly didn’t help (and neither did him cheating on me with the girls who would, which I found out later, LOL). The relationship ran its course because we were both young and dumb and because most high school sweetheart relationships do. But hey, at least I got my daughter out of it.