Garcia wasn’t a violent man, but if he were alive to see all this ironic beard growing, he would be taking dickpunching lessons from Billy.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Tag: dickpunch (Page 1 of 4)
Sometimes when you’d really fucked up, Billy wouldn’t even punch you in the dick: just tell you how disappointed he was. And then he would punch you in the dick.
But: disappointedly.
If Billy was wearing his shades, he was either scoping out some prime dick to punch or unconscious.
The reason that there is a horse on Billy’s bass drumhead is that you noticed there was horse on Billy’s bass drumhead and then you wondered why there was a–
SHWOKATHOOM
Curiosity got its dick punched.
PLUS, Mr.s Donna Jean is wearing my Great-Aunt Lillian’s kitchen curtains.
Five. Billy punched five dicks.
(They just write themselves, sometimes.)
“Okay, so I punched some dicks: what else do you do on a Tuesday in Des Moines?”
An interesting lesson for all of us in lighting and composition and the like: under favorable conditions, Billy can be the handsome elder statesman we all profess publicly to wishing that he were.
Secretly, however, most of us are happy Uncle Billy’s still the craziest, sweatiest fuck south of a polar bear’s dick.
You looked to see whether Bobby was protecting his dick, didn’t you?
I’M IN YOUR HEAD NOW, MOTHERFUCKER.
The first time he met Billy, Garcia knew–instinctively and instantly–that he must protect his dick at all times.
In the dictionary, next to dickpunching, there is nothing. Because dickpunching’s not in there: it’s not a word and you know that. Any dictionary, in fact, that does contain the word dickpunching is neither to be trusted nor trifled with and should be thrown as hard as possible at the nearest infirm relative or family friend.
But if it were there…
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