Tag: mickey hart (Page 33 of 71)

Hey, guy.

“Yan’qi.”

Right. You’re the guy Mickey bought, right?

“I am to Mickey.”

Heard you died.

“I am to died. Yes.”

Sorry about that.

“Yan’qi.”

How’d it happen?

“Mickey punt.”

GODDAMMIT, MICKEY.

“You rang?”

You punted the little dude?

“Not on purpose. I was coming down the stairs and I didn’t see him and: FWEEEEEE right across the living room. Got a good toe on the little fucker: tight spiral.”

I told you to give him back, anyway.

“He was happy with us! Grandkids loved him, he would play with the dogs.”

…

“Okay, fine: the dogs would play with him.”

Jesus, Mickey.

“He loved it here, man. He drummed with us all the time, and he smoked a ton of dope, and I may or may not have gotten him laid.”

I guess that’s okay.

“Had very oddly-shaped genitalia.”

Don’t want to know.

“There was some kind of foreskin on his balls.”

That’s not a thing.

“A testicular shroud. Very bad omen in some cultures.”

That’s a bad omen? How does it compare to being 2’3″ and owned by a Grateful Dead?

“About the same.”

Sure.

ps The guy’s name is actually Chandra Bahadur Dangi and he probably had more than enough bullshit to deal with without my shitty jokes. He had no relationship with Mickey, but is in reality dead.

Yan’qi, Chandra.

The bullshit black folks have to deal with…

• Fine doobage.
• Bottle of fine wine.
• Case of shitty wine.
• Exotic pet. (Tapir, lemur, tiger, Bieber.)
• Erotic pet. (Sexy duck, donkey wearing a lace bra.)
• Esoteric pet. (A golden retriever that, like, fourteen people on the planet really get, man.)
• Dead shirt.
• Dead jersey.
• Dead button-up.
• Dead serape.
• Dead barrel-with-suspenders.
• Let’s just say that any piece of clothing with a Stealie sewn haphazardly onto it will be warmly received.
• A full, tailored set of Navy Whites to put on when Bobby plays Lost Sailor.
• (Actually: Mickey could totally pull this one off Halloween at MSG; he would have plausible deniability. “What do you mean, Bob? It’s just a costume, man. Don’t be paranoid.”)
• (Obviously, Billy would be giggling directly behind him, which would hurt his argument, but Mickey would stick with his story.)
• Artisanal crotch powder for trainhorn-related chafing.
• Tympanis?
• Tympani?
• However you pluralize them, if you got Mickey the drums that let you know Elvis was coming on, then Mickey would be happy.
• Mickey has begun to collect traditional German drums, so he would like a BætenThümpen, a ShmäckenLouder, or a BangenBöömen.
• Drum made from human skin, as long as the skin was harvested in an ethical manner: like, you gave the hobo a head start before hunting him for the purposes of obtaining a hide.
• Five minute head start is ethical, right?
• Mickey enjoys starting drum lines and drum circles wherever he goes, so if you an Abandoned God who exists in multiple trimensions simultaneously, you could let Mickey participate in a drum hypersphere, or a drum Penrose triangle.
• Bongos that are also a bong.
• A bong that is also bongos.
• Replacement horse.
• Mickey is still giving horses LSD and it’s like Equus with more nudity out at his place lately.

It’s Mickey’s birthday today, and TotD loves Mickey; sure, I make fun of him once in a while, but that’s just because of his actions, decisions, attitude, and appearance.

70 more years of Drums, Mick. (Not at a time, though. Do not have a 70-year-long Drums at MSG on Halloween. Now: people are gonna be high as shit, so you and Billy can stretch that sucker out, but seven decades is pushing it.)

ALSO: has Mickey begun pretending that the horse-dosing story was a goof? I bet if he were asked in public, that he would say that he made that story up, and would never feed an animal hallucinogens.

“What? You believed that? I was just messing with the reporter. I would never do that, retroactively. You’d have to be a complete lunatic to give a horse LSD: are you claiming that I–Mickolas Hartbergstein of the Grateful Dead–am a complete lunatic? Show me the receipts!”

*Ahh-ee-ahh!
SAY THAT YOU REMEMBER!
Ahh-eee-ahh!

Hey, Mickey. Whatcha doing?

“I guess you could call this Mickeying, couldn’t you?”

Yeah. You are living your Mickeyest life right now, buddy.

“This room is occupied by nothing but drums, Stealies, mustaches, and cocaine.”

You never have to leave.

“I don’t know about that.”

You’d get claustrophobic?

“No, there’s no one in here to fly into a rage and choke.”

Sure.