Even icky "babymaker" references don't deter the tour-hardened Christmas, who bunked in Belgium next to a wall covered in penis graffiti and captions such as "There is something in this bed that rhymes with Mubic Bear." Having endured that genito-urinary gauntlet, Made Out of Babies won't flinch at sharing the 15th Street Tavern stage with Fucking Orange -- whose name, although an allusion to something else entirely, just plain sounds dirty.
"We've also had the good fortune to play with Horse Hymen and Skinhead Penis," Christmas says. "I made those up, actually, but there is a real band called Pinky Tuscadero's White-Knuckle AssFuck." (It's true, and the group's logo involves interlocked arms in a P shape, with the letter's stem forming a fist.)
Made Out of Babies' own moniker comes from an overheard conversation in which a young boy theorized that a sunscreen bottle with an infant's image on the front contained liquefied toddlers. Given its name and Christmas's heartthrob status, it would seem natural that Made Out of Babies would receive dolls as gifts from fans. Instead, Christmas says, the group usually collects bottles that aren't filled with formula.
"One girl gave us a bottle of 80 percent -- that's percent, not proof -- rum," Christmas recalls. "We drank some of it, but after it melted our nose hair, we started using it as disinfectant. Brendan [Tobin] cleaned the necks of his guitar with it."
"I like cakes and pies," adds a crestfallen Tobin, "but I always get cleaning supplies as presents."
