- I’m not even asking for a blueprint, Bear: just a clear description of what exactly a “Wall of Vows” is and why it costs three hundred thousand dollars.
- Lenny Hart just stole the wedding cake.
- You dosed the bridesmaids? I dosed the bridesmaids! Jesus, how many people dosed the bridesmaids? We should go check on them.
- Billy, you really should have brought an aquarium or some water if you were going to give the couple tropical fish. They all died so quickly and predictably and preventably. It was sad.
- Plus, you were throwing them at people.
- Hey, is that Kim Jong-Un?
- Mickey insisted on teaching everyone Jewish wedding traditions and long story short: Bobby threw a chair out a window; Phil broke a glass against the bar and is currently threatening the bartender with it while demanding to know “Just what the fuck is vermouth, anyway?”; and someone from the road crew sacrificed a flawless red heifer born in the west, and between that and the fish, it’s starting to smell up in here.
- Who let Ned Lagin DJ?
- Billy and Mickey have been improvising a percussion battle using the silverware and the older relatives’ walkers and wheelchairs for 35 minutes and it’s starting to wear thin.
- Garcia’s officiant powers went to his head and now he won’t stop marrying people against their will.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Month: October 2014 (Page 8 of 10)
The barbarians are sexually abusing the door, the wolf is tunnelling under the gate, and Kim Jong-Un will not be saving us this time.
Which is my way of saying that I’ll be in Brooklyn for a wedding this weekend. See you soon.
On your loneliest Saturday night, remember this: someone is masturbating to the thought of you.
Sure: sometimes it’s Billy, but that’s better than nothing.
I won’t go so far as to say Roger Goodell is definitely thanking God for Ebola, but Roger Goodell is almost certainly thanking God for Ebola.
If a terrorist really wanted some attention, he’d re-brand himself “Muhammad Ahmed E-Bola.”
Fox News would get a boner you could see from space.
If you told a Dead.net comment board regular that he could have the next year’s worth of Dave’s Picks be from ’83, but only if he tongue-kissed a bunch of Liberians, that motherfucker would be on a plane tonight.
After the show, Garcia asked Branford to join the group permanently, except he did it in front of Bobby, and Bobby starting crying.
“I used to be in a band, Chachi. Gimme another bottle of whatever and a line of something and Uncle Bob’ll tell you all about it.
“Nasty fuckers, we were: tear the tits off a gorilla at a hundred paces, and that was just the first set. Sound of us tuning up was enough to overthrow governments two continents over. The Burma/Myanmar changeover? We did that; never got the press it should’ve.
“We stomped the terra, Chachi–you savvy, you little shit? We were sui generis, not the sweetly generic bullshit that pretends and passes as rock and roll today.
“We made the coolest posters…
“Ah, but hell: it’s show biz.”
Shortly after this picture was taken, Billy tongue-kissed the young dolphin right on her blowhole.
Shortly after this picture was taken, Billy tongue-kissed the young lady right on her butthole.
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