Two of my best girl friends are Ween groupies (AKA Weeners). They buy the new albums at midnight, they follow the band from Portland to Eugene, and Seattle to Vancouver, BC. They're not the world's biggest Weeners, but they're some pretty big dogs (c'mon, that was hilarious). I myself am what you would call a Ween admirer. I'm psyched if they come on the jukebox in a bar, and I've owned Pure Guava, Chocolate and Cheese, the country album, and I even bought their latest, Quebec (the only one I still have).
As for the Moistboyz, I don't know what kind of fan I'd categorize myself as. Like Ween, this hard-rock offshoot (comprised of Dean Ween AKA Mickey Melchiondo AKA Mickey Moist and his longtime friend Guy Heller AKA Dickie Moist) operates with a deep core of irony, but at the same time comes up with some pretty dope shit. Songs off their fourth album and latest release, Moistboyz IV, have titles like, "I Don't Give a Fuck Where the Eagle Flies," "Fuck You," and "Everybody's Fucked Her," and while the tracks on this album may not be legendary, they're admirably gritty and heavy, with scratchy leaden vocals and cool guitar parts—which at least for young boys (seemingly the Moistboyz target audience) is what hard rock is all about. It's fun music to listen to, especially if you like swear words.
More so than Ween, Moistboyz appeal to a crude, sophomoric sense of humor. With songs about pedophilia thrown in with anti-American diatribes, I am reminded of listening to my stoner neighbor explain his conspiracy theory about September 11. It's interesting for a while, but really it's just a ridiculous joke—an idea you can get into, but will never really believe in. Ween does a far better job of balancing irony with talent and subtlety. Moistboyz just play a really good shtick—which makes for a band you can like head-banging and thrashing around to, but one that's pretty hard to love.