Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: bill cosby

The Newest Trend In Fashion Is: Forestcore

March 5, 2020 / / 2 Comments

What a puffy coat.

“It’s Visvim, thank you. Spring ’14 line. This is the Heavy Puffed Jacket, also known as the Nano Morgante. It was named after Cosimo de Medici’s favorite dwarf.”

It looks exactly like the jackets my mom used to buy me every winter from the Burlington Coat Factory.

“No, this is better.”

How so?

“It cost three grand.”

Uh-huh. I noticed you’ve been awful quiet since Jessica Simpson’s book came out.

“Literally everyone has advised me to do so. Even Bob Saget said I shouldn’t say anything, and he thinks dick jokes are the answer to everything.”

All of these people are your friends. Listen to them.

“Yeah, there’s no way to help myself here except by excusing myself from the conversation.”

She talked some serious shit about you, broham.

“I’m not engaging.”

Said you were a dick about grammar.

“Well, you should see how the woman writes. If a pigeon tap-danced on a keyboard, you’d get fewer misspellings. She’s dumber than Daryl Hannah.”

You take that back.

“Shan’t.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I hate you so much.”

Hey, you wanna talk shit about Madison the Mermaid, you face the consequences.

…

“You”re on with John.”

“Hey, bitch. I’m back. We gonna get freaky.”

“I’m not doing this anymore, Miles. You broke my heart, and then you murdered me.”

“The Cos got some shit gonna help you forget all that.”

“I am not partying with you and Bill Cosby.”

“Fleezum flozzum rape!”

“Bitch, you made The Cos mad.”

“Hanging up and changing my number.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Pardon me.”

Mm-hmm?

“Did you have to bring Miles back? He’s a monster.”

Sure, but the Enthusiasts love him. Very popular character.

“Dick.”

With A Surprise Guest*

February 2, 2019 / / 1 Comment

Why are you like this?

“I sensed danger, and instinctually turtled up.”

That’s your instinct?

“More muscle memory. See, my toppermosts are all bulletproof.”

Really.

“Yeah. They’re stoppermosts.”

You’re unbearable.

“The cotton is impregnated with kevlar, and then carbon fiber is weaved in. It’s not easy to weave with carbon fiber. Most looms break.”

So that thing is bulletproof?

“It can take a shot or two.”

Awesome.

BANG!

“OW! It still hurts! Don’t shoot me!”

Wasn’t me.

“Then who did it?”

BANG!

“OW!”

“Little to the left, Ray, and then give ‘im the old bingle-bangle flizzum flop!”

“All right, then.”

BANG!

“OW! Hey! Jackass!”

Moi?

“Vous. This is stupid, and don’t take Bill Cosby out of the Problem Attic.”

I’ll pull down the steps to that place for whomever I choose, thank you.

 

*Admit it: you were surprised when you saw him.

Prognosis: Choogly

March 28, 2017 / / 4 Comments

Like I said: around one in 100,000 drop dead simply from the anesthetic, which puts the mortality rate at .0001%. In Palm Beach County in 2015, there were 1.42 fatalities for every 100 million VMT (Vehicle Miles Traveled). When we compare these numbers, we come to the conclusion that TotD is not good enough at math to compare these numbers. I’ll tell you this: if the hospital were 100 million miles from my house, it would make things both easier and much harder. Also, if the hospital were 100 million miles away from my house, then I should have left already.

So: will I die? Maybe. Although, every new dawn may be your last, so let’s acknowledge the slight added risk by marking tomorrow’s chance of death as “maybe plus.”

There are, however, other possibilities.

  • Listing this one first because it’s the preferable outcome: the procedure activates my super powers. (I have been waiting for those fuckers to turn on since puberty.)
  • Wake up in an alternate reality where George Washington Carver was never born and all you can get for lunch is a jelly sandwich.
  • I could imagine some sort of 28 Days Later situation arising where I come to in the middle of a zombie outbreak; I would be eaten immediately.
  • This is South Florida, so there is a real decent shot my doctor’s either a drug addict or a 17-year-old pretending to be a doctor, and both of those scenarios would end up with me being harvested.
  • CIA tracking device implanted.
  • Excuse me.
  • Another CIA tracking device implanted.
  • Blackfaced. (They could tattoo or dye you while you’re under, I suppose, and then you wake up and HOLY SHIT you’re in permanent blackface. You probably couldn’t go on the internet anymore. I hope I do not get blackfaced.)
  • Similarly, I hope the nurse does not draw dicks on me.

We end with this: if I were a doctor that did these types of procedures, I would wait until the patient was juuuuuuust about to go under and then I would put on a Bill Cosby mask and wave goodbye to them. Which might be why I’m not a doctor.

Drummerhood

November 19, 2014 / / 0 Comments

One night in the 80’s, the Dead were playing Cincinnatti Cinncinati Cleveland the same night as Bill Cosby, and staying in the same hotel. Cosby, perhaps looking to expand his options, invited Billy up to his room and offered him a spiked glass of wine, which Billy drained in a swallow.

“Hey, did you put something in there? Mighty kind of you: couldja top me off, Coz?”

Billy polished off seven or eight of Cosby’s cocktails with no ill effects, even stealing a few sweaters to give to Phil.

“Gonna call it a night, Coz,” Billy said and went back to his room. It was a long walk and something told Billy to turn around, but he didn’t.

To this day, the only advice Billy ever gives to young people is this: You never regret the dicks you punch; only the dicks you don’t.

The Stacks

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