“She’s a lazy crackhead bitch,” he said. “She could play if she wanted to, but she’s holding out for more money. I told her that all the money is in publishing, and that if she wanted in on that, she should have contributed to the songwriting. During the songwriting she was processing. The whole time she was processing data. Fucking whore.”

Decanus has been brought to this low and Shadow-like stupor by three days of exposure and chugging paint thinner, the cheapest of the hobo liquors, and default drink of choice of the lowest tier of the homeless population. The hallucinations brought on by this “drink” have caused Decanus to disband The Biaviians, who have all gone their separate ways. Rumor has it that D’arcy moved to a farm in Michigan with her douche bag husband. Huginn and Munnin, long thought to be the talentless wonders of the group, are emigrating back to Norway to look for jobs in the computer industry, and to work on their own project, Cephalopod’s Backyard, which is named after the only song they ever wrote. The BAGD has apparently taken the breakup hard – it has made its way back to Columbus, where it sits dejectedly, throwing something off the Tallahatchie bridge.

Decanus, in his psychotic state, insists on continuing the tour despite the utter lack of support he’s received from both the pedestrians of Eugene, and his alleged supporters here at BZ. I have broken the 4th commandment and smoked most of my own supply, so I have no profits to cut him in on, and since I smoked two joints before and after I wrote that last article, I totally forgot to set up the Dollars for Decanus thing. He has therefore received zero dollars since the last article. Decanus, however, has formulated a half-ass plan. He has renamed the tour Decanus Unplugged, and will perform on the streets without a laptop or any other instrumentation. I’m not sure whether or how Decanus will pull out of this, but he seems headed for a terrible fate.