Here's my story and I'd swear by it but I don't like to cuss. Almost frickin' never.
So... I started growing peppers in the yard of my family home in beautiful Thousand Oaks, California, several years ago. My wife and I have owned that home for decades now and raised our beautiful children, Jenna and Dylan, there. I love it where I live and if I didn't travel for performing purposes, I don't think I'd ever leave the house. OK, maybe to see a great band once in a while. But I digress. Now... there I am, growing these peppers just for the horticulturist in me (and I've spoken to several professionals about getting him OUT of me), and I decide that maybe I'd try to do something useful with those peppers and make myself a batch of hot sauce; seeing as how I LOVE hot sauce.
Next, I found a recipe that had been buried somewhere on the Las Vegas Strip by an early vaudevillian whose name I never knew and used it to fashion my first batch. It was delicious. I loved it. Lynn, my lovely, loving wife loved it (she's very loving, have you noticed?) and Leo, the dog, loved it. Actually, Leo loved it so much I had to stop him from getting on my computer and ordering some more at nogginblast.com. But I digress again.
So, we had some friends over for dinner and served some of my hot sauce. THEY loved it. (Have you noticed that people love my hot sauce? I guess that's because people are very loving.) Those friends were very entrepreneurial, by nature, and they suggested that the stuff was SO good, that I could sell it. (Hmmm... Entrepreneurial By Nature. Another band, right?)
Anyway, turns out they were right. I've been selling it and you've been buying it. I love our relationship, me and you.
So, the question is: What's the deal with the merch? Is it as delicious as the hot sauce? Answer: Just like my hot sauce, I let the merch do the talking. Enjoy.