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Last week, the Shack made its corporate debut at the first ever “World’s Biggest Jerk Off” (The Bell House, Brooklyn). It’s hard to say exactly how many misnomers they crammed into that event title, but who can blame them. Hyperbole is essential these days, and let’s face it, they saw the pun and went for it. We would have done the same. As for the “world” part: well, sometimes it’s hard to tell a Brooklyner they’re not the center of the world. Let them have their time.
When we first came across this wonderful event, we could barely contain those little repressed amateurs within all of us just waiting to snap on their jerkin-gloves and start jerkin’ like it was 2009. This was just the kind of thing we prayed for back in the day, something that could put us on the map. After weeks of preparation the old fashion way (i.e. sans USDA-nod), we had 8 pounds of the kind of home-cooked jerky only painstaking experience can buy. It was quite the relief to know we still had our old chops.
By the way, still trying to get on the map.
To our surprise, about four days before the jerk off, we received a rather curious Google alert. It seemed that the Shack was a co-sponsor of the jerk off. Strange, we never gave any money. What exactly constitutes a sponsor?, we asked ourselves.
Then, two days before the jerk-off, we learned from urban whistleblowers Time Out that we were “non-competing”.
Balls.
Unfortunate but true, this jerk-off was for amateurs and amateurs only. Apparently, having an LLC after your name makes you a little more than an amateur. Fine. So even though we sunk back to our amateur ways for nearly two weeks, we were stuck at the corporate side of things, unable to contend. Seems that you can take the jerks outta the Shack, but you can’t take the Shack outta the jerks.
Oh by the way, the Original SlantShack (I mean the actual shack, the birthplace of SSJ) has now been vacated, left to crumble/combust, by the last of the jerks. More on this to come.
Turns out there are some big benefits for being at the sponsor table. For one thing, we were the closest to the door, and we got exactly two free cans of beer. Additionally, almost everyone who came by to try our jerky almost left sobbing after they learned we were non-competing. Let me tell you — we love leaving people sobbing. But we love cheering them up more. So we recommended they pencil us in. Many wiped their eyes clean and stoically returned to the half-hour line to participate in the jerk-off.
This whole thing consisted of 20 competitors, many flaunting the creativity and nonchalance that pervades the Gowanus neighborhood of Brooklyn. The result would have made the NYC Dept of Health shit Lysol. Chocolate-dipped jerky, strawberry-flavored something jerky, boar jerky, horse jerky, minotaur jerky, and some poor unfortunate soul who brought a tray of jerk chicken and seemed to think she was winning the whole thing. In a bizarre coincidence, the winner of our SSJ Jerky Recipe Competition (c. December 2010) stole the grand prize — Mr Fred Raphael, you consistent bastard!
Check out some photos of the event here, and check back for our exciting documentary, where we follow the only ticket-holder donning a robe and a glorious tackle-box full of lube.
