Thoughts On The Dead

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

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Another Champ

Normal folks got no money, and shitty connections, and this means that normal folks can only get so high. Rich people got money–or can get credit–and that draws a better class of drug dealer. Rich people can get pretty high. Elvis, though, had his own doctor and the pharmacy he went to was on Elvis Presley Boulevard. Elvis got the highest. There’s no way to be higher than Elvis here.

“HOW DARE YOU, BOY!”

I had to figure you’d show up. Hey, King.

“NOTICE MAH MEDAL!”

It’s nice. What’s it for.

“IT WAS GIVEN TO ME BY A KARATE MASTER AH BATTLED JUST OUTSIDE ELKO, NEVADA. AH DEVASTATED TH’ MAN WITH MAH KICKS AN’ OTHER VARIOUS KARATE MOVES.”

Great.

“YOU ACCUSIN’ THE KING O’ SOMETHING? YOUR ASSERTIONS WILL BE REFUSTED. STRAIGHT-UP REFUSTED. AH JUS’ MADE UP THAT WORD. ‘REFUSTED.’ THAT AIN’T NO WORD. AN’ YOU WASN’T GONNA CORRECT ME, BOY! YOU WAS GONNA SIT THERE AN’ FEEL ME BEIN’ DOMINANT!”

You’re rather aggressive this visit.

“AH RESPOND TO DISRESPECT WITH THE FEROCITY OF A LION. LOOK!”

“SEE ? LION!”

Lion.

“AH REMEMBER DOIN’ THIS NUMBER. WE HAD THAT BOY UP HERE T’ GRACELAND IN ’69. HE VISITED DURIN’ THAT NEKKID FOREST PARTY UP IN NEW YORK STATE. HE LIVED RIGHT UP THE STREET. NOISE WAS DRIVIN’ HIM NUTS.”

Wow. I did not know this.

“SHOWED UP AT TH’ GATES INNA CHRYSLER TOWN & COUNTRY. THAT’S TH’ CAR OF A SERIOUS MAN. I ALLOWED HIM ENTRANCE TO MAH HOME. BOB DYLAN WAS GREETED AT TH’ DOOR BAH MAH MONKEY-NECKED, SWAMP-SMELLIN’, PICKIN’-UP-RADIO-SIGNALS-ON-HIS-FILLIN’S, LEAKY DIAPER OF A DADDY–”

Vernon.

“–VERNON. AH WAS PROUD O’ MAH DADDY THAT DAY, AS HE DID NOT MENTION BOB DYLAN’S OBVIOUS JEWISHNESS.”

That was polite of Vernon.

“CHARLIE HODGE LOCKED HISSELF IN A BATHROOM, AS HE FEARED THE JEW.”

Wow.

“WHEN BORED, AH OFTEN CHASE CHARLIE HODGE AROUND WHILE SHOUTIN’ JEW’S COMIN’ FOR YA! THAT ALWAYS BREAKS TH’ BOYS UP, MAN!”

How did you and Bob get along?

“FAMOUSLY. HE BROUGHT WITH HIM A WELCOME GIFT. IT WAS A MASSIVE HAT. AH WORE IT, EVEN THOUGH AH’M NOT A HAT PERSON. TO HIM, AH PRESENTED A TAPE RECORDER COVERED IN PRECIOUS JEW’REY. MAINLY OPALS. THERE WAS A SHIT-LOAD O’ OPALS ON THAT SUMBITCH.”

And then?

“FO’R REASONS O’ COMPASSION AN’ INSURANCE PURPOSES, AH HAD DOCTOR NICK GIVE BOB DYLAN A FULL LOOKIN’-OVER.”

Heebie-jeebies?

“DOC SAID IT WAS TH’ SECOND-WORST CASE HE EVER SAW.”

I’m shocked.

“TH’ REST OF TH’ VISIT IS UNKNOWN TO ME, BUT WAS APPARENTLY QUITE PRODUCTIVE! WE RECORDED A DOZEN SONGS, MAN.”

What? You’re kidding. Where are the tapes?

“THEY OUT IN CALIFORNIA. SAFEST PLACE COULD EVER BE: A THEME PARK IN WILDFIRE COUNTRY. NO WORRIES ‘BOUT THEM TAPES.

Sigh.

“BAM! YOU HEALED. GET ON GOIN’, FREAKY.”

Who are you talking to?”

“SHE GONNA BUS’ OUTTA THEM BRACES LIKE KING KONG BURSTIN’ HIS CHAINS IN NEW YORK, MAN. WALK, FREAKY, WALK! ELVIS SAYS YOU C’N WALK!”

This got weird.

“THIS GOT MIRACULOUS! YOU CAN DO IT, FREAKY!”

Our First Batch Of Winners*

We return, Enthusiasts, to the Dylan Cover Contest, which I again remind you is not a competition. Some of you have followed orders and posted your choices in the Comment Section, where  asked you to, and others of you–roundheaded cheese-thieves that you are–answered on Twitter. Some of your picks are brilliant, and a couple of you like that lady who sings in French.

You know that TotD is not xenophobic, but the site does have a policy regarding foreigners, and that is: They should be hated and feared, Doubly so if they talk gobbledygook, and these gobblings were on purpose! Fuckface Condition was a British band. They chose to sing in French. Serge Gainsbourg sang in French, but he didn’t have any other options. Maybe scat-singing. But this was a brunette lady named Sandy who grew up in London, so I can get mad at her decisions.

It is of very little use getting mad at Nina Simone.

Miss Simone will not care, hopefully. If she does notice, you should duck. (The sign of a true diva: like Elvis and Miles, Miss Simone enjoyed shooting at her business associates, generally while indoors.)

Hey, Bob Dylan.

“I need drugs and a dogsitter.”

I’ll work on it.

All you can hear is Jimi’s voice and guitar, but no one’s hitting play for Chas Chandler. (That would, however, be a Rock Nerd Power Opinion: I think Jimi Hendrix never recovered after losing Chas. Pull that one out of your cargo pants at the next Phish Scholars conference; you’ll start a riot.)

 

*It is in no way a contest. This title is misleading, at best. I don’t understand how these mistakes keep getting through.

Gowdy?


Why are you an enemy of the homosexual community?

“Excuse me?”

You treat gaiety as a joke.

“I do not! It’s a fun shirt.”

You may as well shoot up a gay nightclub. Or a library.

“A library?”

Apparently, the drag queens are hanging out at libraries now.

“I am an ally.”

That shirt is like queer blackface. You put on your costume, have your fun, and then go back to enforcing heteronormativity and eating Chick-Fil-A.

“Stop it.”

How gay?

“What?”

How gay would you go for Trey?

“Fully gay. I would be up for anything.”

Dude. There’s some wild arrows in the gay quiver.

“I would assume it’s just like hot yoga with penetration. Bring it the fuck on.”

I like your gumption.

“You gotta be your own cheerleader, man.”

So true.

So I Drifted Down To Mississippi, Down To New Orleans

It is not a contest, but so far, Gary U.S. Bonds is winning the Dylan Cover Contest. (I don’t know why I named it that.) ALSO: in New Jersey, Gary U.S. Bonds is known as “that guy Bruce likes.”

Best Dylan Cover?

Leave your choice in the Comment Section. Okay, goofy goobers: go!

 

Man At Work

 

“Ass!”

Hey, Billy. Summer Tour, huh?

“Yup. I gotta tell you something: I love this band more than I loved the Grateful Dead. And not just because Phil isn’t in it.”

Is it the checks?

“You really do know me, man.”

Uh-huh.

“Deadheads got so much more money now! They used to sleep a dozen to a room and give tuggers for drug money, but now half of ’em are real estate assholes. Or respectable criminals. You know: classy shit like fraud, or computer shit. Dead & Company got more respectable criminals in their audience than any other band.”

Almost certainly true.

“And they’re desperate to give us their money. We priced the merch so high as a joke. Figured we’d have to knock ten bucks off, but the rubes ponied right up.”

Please don’t call your fans “rubes,” Billy.

“What would you call someone who spent three grand on a blanket with a Stealie on it?”

Yeah, okay.

Choogteaser

The Meet-Up at the Movies version of this show, 6/17/91 from Giants Stadium, will be of a higher quality, AND feature a short film starring David Lemieux in which he reveals this year’s big box set. This video is a paltry substitute. It is, however, free AND contains 40 or 45 Dark Star teases, so you might consider watching it.

Or not. Maybe tonight’s the night you eat all those pills you’ve been saving. Who the fuck knows? Do whatever the fuck you want.

Possible Replacements For Sarah Huckabee Sanders

  • Forest Whitaker and his Sloppy Eyeball.
  • Guy from Staten Island eating a chicken parm sandwich who keeps repeating, “Hey, I tol’ you what happened. You don’ wanna believe it? That’s yer fuckin’ problem.”
  • One of Jordan Peterson’s lobsters.
  • Fuck, let Barron do it.
  • Lindsay Lohan, three hours late and missing a shoe.
  • A sentient full English breakfast complete with incredibly racist beans.
  • Gerry Cooney, if he’s still alive.
  • Gerry Cooney’s corpse, if he’s not.
  • Mike Huckabee’s other ugly daughter, Farah Huckabee Sanders, whose nostrils are misaligned.
  • An angry dwarf with dildos glued all over him.
  • Sign hand-written by one of the Koch Brothers reading “Go fuck yourself.”
  • Joe Rogan. (“Politics bores me. Haberman, you ever try DMT?”)
  • Pile of used porn a teenager found in the woods.
  • Whoever Putin says should get the job.
  • Someone beloved who’s recently had a stroke, so they’re lying and slurring and it’s all so terribly sad.
  • Topiary trimmed and dyed to resemble a blue waffle. (Look it up. Look it up at work, or in front of your children.)
  • The one dark-blue cube in the ice tray.
  • Shuckey Duckey. (Quack quack.)

Those Wild Backstage Happenings

Is it weird that I can recognize Matt Busch from the back of his head?

“A little.”

And that’s Katie Skene behind you.

“Good for her.”

You all right, buddy?

“Been two-fisting rosé since noon.”

Hey, it’s summertime.

“That was my excuse, yeah.”

Thoughts On The Bob Dylan Netflix Thing Without Having Watched It

  • Oh, cool, Ghidora is in this.
  • Joan Baez’ cock is enormous.
  • No, wait.
  • I was wrong.
  • Her COCKS are enormous!
  • Joan Baez has, like, nine or ten dicks!
  • Is that why Mickey broke up with her?
  • I hope Bob Dylan never, ever dies.
  • Not because I’m a huge fan, but because the bullshit will be unbearable.
  • They should keep him touring after he dies.
  • Just prop the fucker up against his piano and move his lips with fishing wire.
  • It’s what he would want.
  • Isn’t there a violin player in this?
  • Is it Jean-Luc Ponty?
  • JEAN-LUC PONTY OR BUST, MOTHERFUCKER.
  • And I think Allen Ginsberg is in this?
  • I wonder if he sits cross-legged while being interviewed.
  • Fucking Baby Boomers and their Indian-style bullshit.
  • Sit like a grown-up, Ginsberg.
  • Seriously, I would be much more excited about this film if Ghidora was in it.
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