The Reverend DJ PimpStick

Click the above image for more of yourfavorite old Ibiza family pics!
DJ PIMPSTICK WEBSITE
From Hades I was summoned,
To walk among men.
To consume those who pray,
And embrace those who sin.
PimpStick hails from the cornfields of southern Iowa, USA, where, as a small boy, he would steal his mother's portable suitcase-style RCA turntable and mix her records at neighborhood birthday parties. Realizing he was destined for greatness, he left home in 1978 at the age of seven, armed only with 72 cents, a 1/2 pack of Hubba-Bubba bubble gum, a Get Smart lunch box, a clean pair of Underoos, and his favorite Han Solo action figure. To this day that is all he owns, and yes he still has Han's blaster.
In 1983, at the age of 12, PimpStick converted a friend's Atari 2600 game console into an 8K digital sampler, after all, he would need his own console to play Frogger. With this wonder of modern technology, he began his dj-remix career producing electronic punk dance singles for the local Bowlerama Skateland.
In 1984, with the addition of a Commodore64, a spool of copper wire, and a new soldering iron, he joined the world of MIDI. A star was born. The early 1990's found Mr. Stick looking for a new avenue to produce music, so he shoplifted 24 Radio Shack cassette decks and a Mr. Microphone from the local livestock pavilion and rebuilt them to function as a loop based sampling system. PimpStick produced his first Drum-n-Bass hit "Roll Me" in 1992 (K-Tel records). It sold 22 copies.
In 1993, Mr. Stick found love and retired from the cutthroat business of underground remixing. Using parts from his 24 tape deck looping machine, turntables, and all of his vinyl LP's, he constructed his first car, a 1981 Mercury Topaz with 154,142 miles, which he affectionately named Sharkey. He led a quiet and secluded life in obscurity for a while. Occasionally someone might recognize the PimpStick. These individuals were never seen again.
In October of 2000, an old friend resurfaced threatening to expose Mr. Stick's true identity unless he came out of retirement and assumed resident dj duties at a new club in Des Moines, Iowa CLUB IBIZA. Mr. Stick had never been to the big city before, but the threat of his old nemesis was not an empty one, so he packed up his chickie, their two Jack Russell Terriers into Sharkey, and moved to the bright lights and big city life of Des Moines.
During PimpSticks absence from the music scene, the music and technology had changed dramatically. Seeing the digital future, Mr. Stick began acquiring the music he would need to once again raise to stardom but this time he rebelled against common techno culture and began collecting in a new format, not the traditional vinyl LP's, but polycarbonate pressed digital audio data, commonly referred to as, compact disks.
Knowing that the road to digital respect would be rocky, and the ladder to stardom, high, he began building his own supercomputer to speed the task of mass-crowd manipulation. So deep within the Pimp Crib, located under a manhole cover somewhere in downtown Des Moines, the PimpStick formed this machine from an amalgamation of parts taken from microwaves, clock radios, and hearing aids. He created his own CD-Recorder from a hair-dryer and a Swatch. He named his computer creation The Digital Psudeocollective Hive Server, bribed the cable guy to become a Preferred Customer and began barreling down the information superhighway, broadband style.
As his Hive server stretched its swarming tentacles throughout the Internet, onto the darkest worlds of all that is techno, the beat junkie in PimpStick's soul returned with incredible ferocity. Lost were the quiet days in small towns with old friends. The electronic beast was loose again, like a dragon, and only on the dance floor could he feed. The pounding bass of Hard House was his pulse, and the psychotic melodies of Trance became his voice. Never again would The Stick settle for obscurity or small town life. He would feed, feed like a vampire with a raving thirst. He would feed on the digital, the loop, and the beat. He would sell his heart for the language of the vocoder, his mind for the knowledge of the synthesizer, and his soul to the hunger of the bass drum.
His transformation was nearly complete, his raise from the ashes eminent. One thing was left, the formation of the Psudeocollective. To demonstrate the power of one, there must be an army of many, for order, there must be Mandelbrot chaos, for peace there first must be war. Only within the Psudeocollective can the PimpStick achieve the focus of his goals and ambitions.
And so it begins, the PimpStick now hunts for the cornerstones of the Psudeocollective. They hide within the Hive server, in the dark places he cannot yet tread. First, he must arm himself with the electronic weapons, the beats, the loops, and the sampler. His time will come, of that Time is certain. The dance floor will belong to him, as his own personal feeding ground. With the subwoofer he will conquer, with the groove he will rule, and with the electronic he will consume.
Try the BEST MySpace Editor and MySpace Backgrounds at MySpace Toolbox !