You can stream Ryan Adams’ new record, which is a track-for-track cover of Taylor Swift’s 1989, today; I’m going to get to it just as soon as I finish streaming the Dead’s box set.
So…February? March?
To be safe, let’s call it never.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
You can stream Ryan Adams’ new record, which is a track-for-track cover of Taylor Swift’s 1989, today; I’m going to get to it just as soon as I finish streaming the Dead’s box set.
So…February? March?
To be safe, let’s call it never.
As opposed to the 80 CDs, commemorative crate, and full-color book, this version of 30 Trips Around the Sun can be keistered.
So, if you’re the type of consumer who includes “Can I smuggle this product in and out of locations via my butthole?” as a metric in your purchasing decisions, this is the thing for you.
On Meet The Press this morning, there was this from Dr. Ben Carson:
…the retired neurosurgeon said, “I would not advocate that we put a Muslim in charge of this nation. I absolutely would not agree with that.”
Other people who should not be put in charge of America, according to Ben Carson:
I know I’ve posted this before, but a song this good should be played on repeat: there’s no better way to start a Saturday than with Jimmy Cliff teaching us the Jamaican version of “don’t poke the bear.”
Listen to this four or five times, hot rail a few lines of Folgers, and tackle a mailman.
By now, it’s clear that creating refugees is Assad’s strategy, so short of military intervention or, you know, asking Putin politely to stop selling Assad missiles and nerve gas, the world has a moral obligation to do something about the millions of now-homeless people flowing out of Syria.
The American government has floated a trial balloon via an anonymous source that perhaps it might begin to form a blue-ribbon committee to look into the possibility of formulating a plan to take a few dozen families that look sufficiently non-terroristy.
This is not enough: the United States has the wealth and space to take our share of Syrian refugees and failing to do so will be to our shame.
The question, of course, is where to put them. Let me get this out of the way: do not put the refugees anywhere near me, please. No offense, refugees; traffic is shitty enough here without swarthy dudes having PTSD freakouts on the Turnpike.
(It should be mentioned that the demographics of these refugees are actually fairly desirable: this is Syria’s middle-class currently walking through Europe being told that there’s no room at the inn.)
TotD has done some research–
LIAR.
–and come up with some possible places to house the Syrian refugees.
Dear Philadelphia,
Please do not wing D batteries at the Pope when he visits you.
We all know, Philadelphia, that you want to wing D batteries at the Pope; please do not do this; it will reflect badly upon all of us.
You are what you are, Philadelphia, and no one is asking you to change. That you see Pope Francis and the first thought that comes to mind is to throw a Duracell at his temple, hard, is one of your selling points.
But not now, Philadelphia; please do not wing D batteries at the Pope.
Sincerely,
The Rest of the Country
In the old days, if you asked a Grateful Dead for a picture, you were just as likely to get shoved down a flight of stairs by Parish, or punched in the dick by Billy, or angrily vomited on by Phil as you were to get a polite interaction.
Nowadays, they’re mostly real nice to fans, but if no one’s around, Mickey still kicks people in the shins when they ask for autographs.
Also, that guy looks like Jay Cutler ate Liev Schreiber
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