Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

A Redoubling Of Efforts

bily thoughtful deadandco


Hey, Billy. What’s wrong?

“Skank and money.”

I thought those were the things that made you happy?

“Those are the things that make everybody happy, slapdick. They’re just troublesome. Not enough is a problem, and so is too much.”

Different problems, though.

“Oh, yeah. The problems that come from too much skank and money are fun problems. Still, though: problems.”

Maybe whacking one of the gourds to your left would cheer you up.



How about tootling on one of your honky-horns?


“Yeah, that did it.”

It’s an exceedingly humorous noise. What’s going on? Take it one by one. Finances a worry?


How? The tour just ended, Billy.

“I invested all of it into a weed-delivery app. Like Uber.”


“It turns out that weed is still illegal kinda.”

Kinda, in places.

“Also, there was a whole deal with the name.”

What was it?


Yeah, it’s taken.

“Like a weed grinder.”

Right, Billy. I got it, but there’s a very popular gay dating app already called that.

“Yeah, we found out when we went online. Those delivery guys did not know what they were getting into.”


“You shoulda seen how fast we got the Cease & Desist order. The ink was still wet. Ink doesn’t even do that any more!”

So you’re broke?

“Until I find the gold I buried in the backyard, yeah.”

And what about the skank?

“Y’know: it’s the only thing that keeps me together.”

Did you just quote KISS at me?

“Ass, lemme tell you about skank. Skank, for lack of a better word, is good. Skank is right. Skank works. Skank clarifies, cuts through, and captures the evolutionary spirit. Skank, in all of its forms–drunken skank, airport bathroom skank, foreign skank–has marked the upward surge of boners. And skank–you mark my words–will not only save Billy Kreutzmann, but also that broken-down drummer called the USA.”

Well said.

“Yeah, I’m great.”


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