Thoughts On The Dead

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

Author: Thoughts On The Dead (page 2 of 974)

Bridge Over Troubled Water

Hey, USNS Comfort. Whatcha doing?

“Fleet Week, baby! Hitting the Big Apple! Gonna see some Broadway shows, maybe have some papaya dogs. Comfort’s getting laid!”

What?

“I’m fucking with you. I’ll be docking off the West Side, and used as a non-corona hospital. Those city hospitals are gonna get real viral, real fast. I will be a site of healthful refuge for folks who, you know, break their legs or whatever.”

Awesome. Thanks, pal.

“It’s what I do; It’s why I’m here.”

Tell us all about yourself.

“Welp, I got a thousand beds, and about that many staff. Tons of doctors, nurses, techs, all that. ICU beds, burn wards, pediatric units, and dental suites, too. I even got my own desalinator to make fresh water.”

You’re awesome.

“Kinda.”

Can you do a barrel roll?

“No. Boats, as a rule, do not do barrel rolls.”

I’ve seen kayaks do it.

“I am the opposite of a kayak.”

With that attitude, yeah.

“We were having such a productive discussion.”

Sorry. I get distracted. Thanks so much for your service.

“Like I said: It’s what I–

ALSO SPRACH ZARATHRUSTA NOISE

“–do…what the hell is that?”

You might have a stowaway.

“TH’ KING AIN’T NO STOWAWAY! AH’M HERE T’ FIGHT TH’ HEEBIE-JEEBIES!”

“Elvis?”

“THASS DOCTOR ELVIS, MD! AH HAVE BEEN GRANTED SPECIAL MEDICAL POWERS BAH MAHSELF.”

“You can’t do that. Listen, man–”

“BACK UP, RUDDERFACE! YOU WILL ADDRESS ME BAH MAH PROPER TITLE OR YER GETTIN’ SO MUCH KARATE AH CAN’T EVEN DESCRIBE IT!”

“I’m a boat. Like, an enormous one. No amount of karate could–”

“CHARLIE HODGE, BRING ME MAH NUNCHUCKS!”

“GODDAMMIT, BOY, THIS IS JUST TWO BOTTLES O’ WAWA TIED TOGETHER WITH A TOWEL!”

“I’m trying to help people here.”

“AN’ AH’M TRYIN’ T’ HELP CHARLIE HODGE, BUT HIS LEARNIN’ DEFICIENCIES MAKE TH’ TASK NEAR IMPOSSIBLE. NOW, TELL ME WHERE MAH OFFICE AN’ DOJO IS!”

“I’m a hospital ship. I don’t have a dojo.”

“TH’ WORLD IS MAH DOJO!”

“Is the first guy I was talking to still available?”

“HE’S PROB’LY PULLIN’ HIS PUD OR SOMETHIN’. JUS’ SHOUT ‘HEY, JEWBOY!’ INTO TH’ ETHER.”

“I am not going to shout that.”

“WELL, AH GUESS IT’S JUS’ GONNA BE YOU AN’ ME, FLORENCE NIGHTGOWN!”

“Jewboy?”

Yes?

“What the fuck is happening?”

Comfort, are you familiar with the concept of semi-fictionality?

“HI-YAAH!”

“Jesus, he’s karate-chopping nurses. Lemme get back to you.”

Sure thing.

80 Minutes Of Black And White Bliss

John Scher’s nephew went to my high school, and that fucker¬†strutted through the hallways.

Sort Of A Book

A distraction, I don’t know how healthy.

Bottle Of Red…

Drinking again, asshole?

Nooooo.

No one watches Billy Joel videos sober.

Shh.

Each Morning…

I just gotta get out of this prison cell;
One day I’m gonna be free.

Sing it, Fred.

A Partial Transcript Of President Trump’s Press Conference, 3/29/20

HAIL TO THE CHIEF NOISE

“Thank you, great, everybody, such a crowd, beautiful, thanks, wonderful. I just had the most spectacular meeting with so many business leaders and winners. We did it in one of the great, great rooms here at the White House, which I took a while to warm up to. I’m not gonna lie, because I never lie–I’m probably the most honest president in American history–but at first I wasn’t so impressed with the White House. The floors were not great. Not great floors! But we did something about that, and now everyone’s very happy. Very happy.

“The rice-farming, karate-kicking Chinese virus is on the run, and that’s due to the work of so many really, really smart people. And me. I mean, when you talk about really smart people, you have to be talking about me. Took a lot of brains to beat Hillary Clinton, which I did, and a lot of the country thanks me so beautifully for that, but others don’t and it’s a shame. It’s a real shame. I have had many, many doctors tell me that the Chinese virus would be much more deadly if Hillary Clinton was president. Probably a million dead already with her, and good dead. The people dying now are old or sick or poor or whatever, but if Crooked Hillary was president, then the people dying would be cops and soldiers and great businessmen.

“I have been in contact with all of the country’s governors, even the disgusting ones who should probably get the Chinese virus and might be stealing ventilators to sell to Prince Harry and that woman he never should have married. I warned him! I sent out some beautiful tweets about the subject, but he ignored me and now he’s suffering. Is he even a prince anymore? No one knows! Now I hear she’s trying to buy black market ventilators from the lady in Michigan, who is not nice.

“I have also been in contact with Guy Fieri and all of the 1986 Mets except Mookie, and they’ve given me such high marks in how I’ve dealt with this crisis, which is not really a crisis except that Democrats and the media want to scream and cry and try to blame me for everything. Guy Fieri, in particular, was so helpful and smart. He told me about this thing he had in Ashtbula, Ohio, called a waffleburger. They replace the buns with waffles! That’s how we’re gonna solve the China virus problem, with thinking like that. Regular burger, cheese, bacon, whatever, but waffles for the bread. Have you ever heard of anything like that?

“I would also like to announce that taking 50 or 60 Doan’s back pills at once cures the virus. I will now take questions. Ugh, you. Whoopi.”

“My name is Yamiche, Mr. President.”

“Not a great name. Not classy.”

“Mr. President, I’d like to ask you about your comment on Doan’s back pills.”

“I never said anything about Doan’s back pills.”

“You literally¬†just said it.”

“You come here to this wonderful, historic Rose Garden, the most roses anyone’s ever seen, and you’re so vicious in your attacks when I’m doing such a perfect job for you. You’re against me. It’s in your blood. You were probably an Obama voter.”

“Sir–”

“You look like a Obama voter.”

“–where did the information about the back pills come from?”

“Where does any information come from? My brain. I know it because I heard it from great, great people who love America, and I thought about it, and it was right, and I do that a lot. No one is right more than I am.”

“Yes, sir, but we were discussing your comments about Doan’s back pills.”

“She’s got a knife!”

PBS REPORTER BEING TACKLED BY THE SECRET SERVICE NOISE

“Next question, next question. Let’s get a sweetheart. Who’s gonna be a sweetheart? You have no idea how hard I’ve been working, and other people, too, but mostly me, and I’m not getting the great questions that I feel I’ve earned. Where’s Jim Acosta?”

“Right here, Mr. President.”

“Jim? Where are you?”

“In front of you with my hand raised.”

“Jim?”

“Why are you looking in Dr. Fauci’s ear? I couldn’t be in there.”

“Where’s Jim?”

“I’ll just ask my question. Have you updated your opinion about opening the country up by Easter?”

“Jim Acosta also has a knife.”

JIM ACOSTA BEING TACKLED BY THE SECRET SERVICE NOISE

“Okay, that’s it, see you tomorrow, go America.”

Nations, Anthems

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Saluting America.”

Cool.

“Even more than usual, I mean. I, uh, consider all my actions to be in honor of America. For example, this morning I combed my hair for America.”

The coif looks controlled.

“I do have many question, though.”

Shoot.

“Well, I’m singing the anthem for a Nascar race, right?”

Yes.

“How are they gonna keep those cars six feet from each other? I’ve watched those races on the teevee. Awful lot of tailgating involved.”

It’s a virtual race, Bobby. The drivers are all at home using high-tech simulators.

“So, they assemble to race on the information superhighway?”

Yeah, kinda.

“Huh. Do the cars have any sort of weaponry?”

It’s not Mario Kart. The cars supposedly obey the laws of physics.

“At any point, does a cartoon amphibian try to cross the ride while the race is running?”

You’re talking about Frogger, Bobby. That’s not what this is.

“Okay, sure. Let me just ask you one final question regarding Pac-Men.”

There are no Pac-Men at all.

“That’s a mistake, in my opinion. Those boys would drive a lot faster with a Pac-Man behind ’em.”

I can’t argue with that, honestly.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I gotta take this. I’m expecting a call to sing Take Me Out To The Ball Game at an online Fortnite tournament.”

You know what Fortnite is?

“No, but I’m bored.”

Okay.

“Weir here.”

“Bobby Grateful! Have job for you.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Putin nyet say vhat job is yet.”

“Don’t care. This is, uh, the longest I’ve been off the road since 1975. Getting a bit stir-crazy here.”

“No man should have lunch vith his vife.”

“Y’know, if were in public, I’d probably have to disagree with you, but between you and me? 100%.”

“Bobby Grateful happy in marriage?”

“Please don’t have Natasha Monster assassinated.”

“If Bobby Grateful vant, Putin do.”

“It’s a big ‘nyet’ from me, Vlad. So, uh, what’s the job?”

“You vill write new songs for Joe Exotic. Putin is bringing him to Moscow to open glorious people’s zoo. Needs theme music. Putin figures ve need big sing-along anthem, dance-floor banger, and veepy ballad.”

“Gotcha, gotcha. Now, I gotta ask: should the songs be about tigers?”

“Vhat you think?”

“Just asking.”

“Of course songs about tigers. Joe Exotic is Tiger King. Tiger King can nyet change stripes.”

“All right, then. Second question: What rhymes with ‘tiger?'”

“Putin is nyet poet.”

“I can look it up on the internet, if I don’t get run over by a racecar.”

“Vhat?”

“Hey, uh, Pooty: any money in this gig?”

“Da. So much.”

“I’m in.”

“This makes Putin happy. Vill cheer up Russian people after terrible year.”

“Corona, huh?”

“Nyet. Every year is terrible for Russians. Corona nyet in Russia.”

“Uh-huh. So the hazmat suit is for what?”

“Shits and giggles.”

“Gotcha.”

Dedicated To…

All alone, and it is getting dark, and the morning’s light is still so far off as to be called a lie by some.

He Is The Law

In this installment of Judge Dredd: One of the Judges turns out to be a psychopath, because that’s what happens in 90% of all Judge Dredd stories. (The other ten percent is Block Wars, when the apartment buildings start shooting tactical nuclear weapons at each other.)

There Are No Tanks In Baghdad

Hey, Putin. Whatcha doing?

“Am trying on Halloveen costume.”

No, you’re not.

“Is true. Putin love Halloveen. Putin is Heidi Klum of Russia. Go all out.”

Wait, hold on.

I thought so.

“Is fake news. Russians love Halloveen. Vait up all night for Great Cabbage. Is like Great Pumpkin, but sadder.”

You are in a hazmat suit because Russia is absolutely exploding right now with coronavirus, and you’re lying about it because…well, because that’s what you do.

“In some vays, Putin very predictable.”

How bad is it over there?

“Nyet bad at all. Is Mostly is dissidents and journalists who die.”

Dissidents and journalists are dying from coronavirus?

“They die. Leave at that.”

You’re terrible.

“Da.”

Seriously, what are you doing over there?

“Ve live amongst the dead. Is Russia. Is vhat ve do. The foot of history is on the Russian’s neck.”

God, you people are strange.

“And healthy. Is no decadent Western virus in Mother Russia. Maybe is in Finland.”

You’ve already had deaths in Moscow.

“Is always people dying in Moscow. Is vhy city vas built. Tsar needed place to live, serfs needed place to die. Is vhat they do.”

Please help your people rather than playing your little evil games.

“Putin do vhat Putin vant.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Must take this. Might be Steven Seagal.”

That guy loves you.

“Da.”

“What’s shootin’? It’s Putin.”

“Mr. Pooter? This is J–”


“Is Joe Exotic! Putin is big fan! Recognize voice anyvhere!”

“Well, what a delightful greeting! That makes me feel so good all over.”

“You can nyet be this gay on phone vith Putin. Is nyet acceptable.”

“Mr. Pooter, I am who I am! I am gay, heavily-armed, positively riddled with venereal disease, partial to bolo ties, and in awe of the power of Jesus Christ. And I can’t be anythin’ else. That’s me. That’s Joseph Exotic Passage-Maldonado-Godchaux-McKay.”

“You are trip. Putin love. You vant zoo?”

“I want a heavenly zoo, Mr. Pooter, where all my cats can roam around, and the kids can see ’em, and I can sell sex aids with my face on ’em in the gift shop.”

“Putin build zoo for Joe Exotic. Vhen can you be in Moscow? Maybe vait a few months.”

“Well, currently I’m a bit tied up. I’m in jail.”

“Putin make call.”

“Yippee!”

“Nyet say ‘yippee’ ever again.”

“Yes, sir.”

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