For most of us born in the late ’80s or early ’90s, the name Limp Bizkit brings to mind two things: the group’s almost laughably awful and contrived bro-metal, and the groups fans, which could be politely described as “roided-out, tribal-tattooed, spray-tanned, Jell-O shot filled bohunks.”

In fact, it was none other than Wes Borland, Limp Bizkit’s lead guitarist/mascot, who so kindly described said fans of his in an Instagram caption. Then, perhaps in the briefest moment of self-reflection (you know, reflection that these people made you rich as hell), apparently later deleted it.

According to, Borland wrote: “Getting all packed up this week for Broatchella 2015. It’s the same as Brochella but it’s off land. Can’t wait to see me some roided out tribal tattooed spray tanned Jell-O shot filled bohunks do their best drunk MMA impressions in the top deck mosh pit. Whenever we aren’t on stage, I’ll be curled up fetal position in my cabin, palms up, while I desperately cling to the last week of my thirties as it slips through my hooked fingers. So, I’d like to give a shout out now to all the other over-the-hill late nineties/early 2000s bands going on the cruise: Let’s give these people the raging alcohol fueled nostalgia fest they’re paying for guys! I know we can do it if we tune down low enough!”

In all fairness, Borland may have some reason for being so callous and off-putting. Though a prolific visual artist and a creative powerhouse for guitar experimentation, he ended up in Limp Bizkit, and one semi-interesting link sure doesn’t hold together a whole lotta rusty cracked ones. He did try to leave, in 2001, after Chocolate Starfish and the Hotdog Flavored Water, but returned for the 2009 reunion, presumably for the payout in a band he’s always seemed to see as beneath him. And hey, mid-crises suck.

But these days it seems everyone in Limp Bizkit has a grumpy attitude toward their fans and even themselves. Upon their begrudging 2009 reunion, Fred Durst and Borland cheerily announced on their website: “We decided we were more disgusted and bored with the state of heavy popular music than we were with each other.” (To which: (1) That’s a very, very harsh thing to say about the state of heavy pop music, and frankly untrue. (2) Their triumphant return to save heavy popular music was only about as successful as the last few Crusades: they haven’t broken the Billboard Top 10 since ’03, and their next, tentatively to be called, in LB title fashion, Stampede of the Disco Elephants, sure doesn’t seem poised to.

So there you have it. Most of Limp Bizkit hates being in Limp Bizkit, and much of the reason for that is their roided up tribal tattooed drunken asshole douchebag fans.

As of press time, Kid Rock hadn’t tweeted that his fans are the rudest, most unkempt, drunkest pieces of inbred trailer trash white shit that he’d ever had the displeasure of seeing packed in a beer-cup and cigarette-butt littered performing arts center lawn.

But the Kid is so above throwing petty, completely senseless insults across on the Internet.