DeBo surfaced in Denver sometime around 2015, like a possum crawling out of a pile of back issues of Car and Driver.
No one invited him, but suddenly he was a fixture: haunting dive bars, name-dropping obscure tattooers, explaining the difference between "real metal" and "festival metal" like lives depended on it.
Then came 2020. The world got weird — and DeBo got weirder. He disappeared completely with no explanation, no warning. Some say he fled to a hidden corner of the earth, a place so far off the grid that it may as well have been a myth.
A land where no one knows.
But I’ve followed the trail. Pieced it all together — cryptic posts, deleted Google reviews, fragments of flash. The truth is strange, maybe even a little fermented. But it’s real.