Do What You Have To is the first Fuckin Shit Biscuit album produced during a stretch from the late 1980's until around 2001. Many of the players involved are certifiable nut jobs. Two are deceased.

Dead Biscuits 5,6

The bass player and flutist are the fourth and fifth dead Biscuits. Morty Baumen, bass guitar, murdered in a domestic abuse incident. Baumen is the only one to become famous because his murder never went to trial and the case is now precedence in defending domestic abuse victims turned murderer. I think the pig investigators and prosecuting attorneys were to busy fucking each other to conduct a proper investigation because Baumen was stabbed in the back. There's no doubt in my mind that Baumen was an abusive, drunken prick but how can these bastards dismiss the case without ever going to trial. She got him in the back. Baumen is just another Biscuit on the short end of the stick.

The flutist, Brian, last name unknown, died of a drug overdose. Brian and four other junkies shot up and died together. Brian, the misguided junkie, wanted $50.00 for his efforts on Finlander Rap but the entire production didn't cost $50.00. He needed cash to score dope. We were barbequing and I compensated him with a hot dog, glass of water and some shit biscuit love. May his soul roast in hell.

Bass 2

Ed Ford, bass 2, quit the band when Jaymo the DJ bit him on the arm during a drunkin bout of violence at the CC club. Ed went on to play bass for the Sex Pistols cover band Pistol Whipped whom according to the lead singer Mary, junkie, may be breaking up over artistic differences. At the heart of the insurgency are a couple band members that want to introduce a couple Ramones covers into the set list. Thankfully we only need to imagine the blind and insensitive nerve of these assholes.

DJ Pretty Fingers

That poor SOB DJ Pretty Fingers, I didn't mean to harm him but was ignorant of his psychological condition. On a beautiful sunny afternoon he returns from breakfast at the Uptown Diner and exclaims, "I'm so embarrased." Between forced venison chili farts I manage to inquire as to the source of his consternation by mumbling, "what happened?" To which Pretty Fingers mounts a response by cracking open his large mouth and licking the remaining two front teeth. I imagine he needed to lubricate the enamel so the dry lips wouldn't get hung up on the teeth and cause him to stumble. He was already a very low volume mumbler and any added resistance would certainly put knots in his yarn.

"I am so embarrased. I was just trying to have breakfast with my gal and there were a couple dozen other women in the dinner. They stared at me the entire time. They just won't stop staring at me." Under the assumption that Pretty Finger was merely funnin with me I said, "It's funny you should mention that because two new hottie neighbors were over here asking about you a few minutes ago. They live across the street in the green house."

I don't think "house" had slid completely off my tongue before Pretty Fingers was sauntering across the avenue and knocking on the front door of the green house. I resolved to not indulge my urges to feed the psychosis of that boy from that day forward.

MC Pecker Head

PJ Tracy

Tim Feeney

Jon Berglund

Kevin Idso

A paranoid, christian, take life way too seriously genius guitar player, self proclaimed father of speed metal whos biological dad was good friends with Jonny Cash, told us stories about himself as a childhood Elvis impersonator putting on shows for his family, Johnny Cash and his band when J.C was touring through rural Minnesota. As he tells the story his band Kublai Khan had completed their demo when the Metallica boys stopped by their practice space. Having heard this new form of metal the Metallica boys hurriedly scurried off and gave birth to speed metal or whatever the hell ya calls it.

Zen aka Robert Firestone

This cocaine and methamphetamine addict is as opposite the image of spiritual enlightenment as is humanly attainable. Subsequently the nickname and its implied persona are perfect. He is a true heir of the Firestone tire family. His mother and father are both scientists for NASA. Awarded full access to a $250,000 trust fund, he proceeded to smoke and shoot up the entire sum with a year.

Navide

Scotty Ellingson, Rico, etc?