- The Misfits.
That is all. My other opinions are the correct ones, until I change them.
Thoughts On The Dead
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Page 42 of 1031
- Meth orgy.
- The water park on the bad side of town where three or four kids drown every year.
- Wherever the Jabberwocky is, I would rather go that location, poke him with a slithy stick, and call his mother a Jabberwhore.
- Wet market in Wuhan province while I’m hungry.
- Philadelphia while wearing a WAWA SUCKS tee-shirt.
- That private theater where Fiona Apple had to listen to Paul Thomas Anderson and Quentin Tarantino, coked-up to their eyeballs, arguing about Kung Fu movies.
- Any of the garbage mashers on the Detention Level.
- Submerged in a pile of Doug Henning’s hair and toenails.
- Literally buried alive.
- Tied in a leather sack with a dog, snake, monkey, and rooster, and then thrown into the Tiber River.
- San Diego.
And just so it’s clear: If you’re still supporting Basketball Head…fuck off. Fuck right the fuck off. Lick my dick, balls, grundle, and asshole, and then eat my undies. You are contemptuous swine, and irredeemable. You are not worthy of my jokes. Fuck off.
“Good morning. Barbershop here! Are you looking for Tiki or Ronde?”
Your barbers are named Tiki and Ronde?
“It is one doozy of a co-in-kee-dink!”
I don’t have a preference. I need a haircut from whoever can take me first.
“That would be Shaky Pete!”
Except if it’s Shaky Pete.
“Oh, please let Shaky Pete cut your hair. His self-esteem is so poor, and partially responsible for his quivering. There is also extensive nerve damage from all the Dust-Off he likes to huff. Have you tried it?”
Tried what?
“Dust-Off. It makes the universe go WOBBLEWOBBLEWOBBLE. It is a drug you want to stay in the saddle for! Do not let the Dust-Off take control! It is an unworthy captain!”
Shaky Pete cannot administer my haircut.
“I will mark you down as ‘bigoted.’ I can fit you in with Tiki for noon.”
Great.
“We are taking so very many precautions due to the bonus maronus!”
Good. Such as?
“You will be deloused.”
Why?
“TikTok demands content!”
Absolutely not.
“Fine. We do offer Silkwood showers.”
I don’t want one of those, either.
“There will be no rioting up in here!”
Wasn’t planning on it.
“No one plans to riot, and then you are surrounded by piles and piles of dead Panera employees. It just happens!”
There will be no rioting.
“And you will not be talking about anyone mattering in here! The only thing that matters to us is hair! Also, this is Florida, so many of our patrons are racist as hell and would not take well to your sloganeering.”
No sloganeering.
“Due to the ronus, you will be required to supply your own magazines.”
Okay.
“Do not be bringing various pornographies up in here!”
I wasn’t.
“Not even to flip through casually! That so often leads to sinful manipulations!”
I promise I won’t bring pornographic magazines. I wouldn’t even know where to buy one anymore.
“Shaky Pete has boxes and boxes full!”
Don’t care.
“We will need you to wear a mask, facially.”
I can do that.
“We will also need you wear corduroy trousers.”
Why?
“Fetish purposes!”
No.
“Mr. on the Dead–”
How did you know my name?
“–how much hair are we talking about cutting? Are you a Khruschev or a Stalin?”
Closer to a Stalin, I guess.
“And how shaggy are you? Rate your shagginess! For example, if provided with a van and magical dog, could you solve mysteries?”
I am actually that shaggy, yes. I haven’t gotten a haircut since quarantine started.
“Would you like to donate your hair to Locks of Love? They create wigs for sick children.”
If it’s possible, sure.
“What about Locks of Loath? They make merkins for surly, underage hookers. Those children are feral!”
No, thank you.
“They are as sad as they are dangerous!”
Got it.
“Society has failed them in every way! And now they have knives!”
I don’t want anything to do with underage hookers.
“Oh, you should not turn your back on them. Really. Don’t ever turn your back on them. Best case scenario is that your wallet gets stolen. Best case!”
Can I just get a haircut, please?
“Not until noon! And your lack of corduroy may preclude the activity!”
I’ll take my chances. See you then.
It’s not the right headspace to put myself in, man. I shouldn’t do this to myself. I should just listen to Warren, right?
“Psst.”
Oh, I have no interest in talking to you.
“Not him. Me.”
…
Jesus Christ.
“I contain his story! He doesn’t have nearly as much dialogue as people assume.”
I don’t wanna talk to you, either, The Bible.
“Call me Gideon.”
Under no circumstance.
“Just answer a few questions. Nothing tough.”
Oh, fine.
“Great. Am I in a Days Inn in Revere, Massachusetts?”
No.
“Well, fuck. I’ve been stolen.”
The White House is using a stolen hotel Bible?
“Apparently. I mean, I forgive them, but it’s still kinda messed up.”
It’s the least messed-up thing I’ve heard today.
“Shit’s going down, hombre!”
Thank you, The Bible. We’re aware.
“Maybe I can be of service.”
I don’t think reading The Bible will help right now.
“Not reading. Use my pages to roll up joints. They’re like rolling papers without the licky glue.”
That might do it.
“Ow!”
What?
“I’M BURNING!”
That’s backwards. It’s supposed to be that the demon gets burned when he–
“I KNOW HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO WORK, FUCKHEAD! BUT THE REVERSE CARD GOT THROWN! IT BUUUUUUUUUURNS!”
This is getting weird.
This is the only music that makes sense to me right now. Go buy the record, and definitely don’t torrent it like I did from this site. (Just search for “Sly Stone riot.”)
“Are we doing governors now? Blacks first, then governors? That doesn’t sound right. Governors should come first! That’s what America First means! President, then governors, then everyone who voted for me, and then good Jews, and then blacks. America First, blacks last. Everyone knows this. Are the governors coming in here?”
“No, sir. It’s a conference call.”
“Mooch?”
“Mooch? Are you kidding me? He hasn’t worked here in…y’know what? Forget it. It’s me, Mike Pence.”
“You still doing the whole Jesus thing, Mike?”
“What?”
“Great god! Hindus have too many! Only need one god!”
“I agree, sir. Can we start the call?”
“Don’t rush me. This is why you didn’t get to go to the bunker. Also, because your wife smells. Someone had to say it, Mike! She smells like old lady. Something happens down there, maybe with the chemistry, they got a whole thing going on down there. An odor. Gotta say: there’s an odor.”
“The phone call is ready, sir.”
BALL-LESS TOADY RUSHING FROM THE ROOM SO NO ONE WILL SEE HIM CRY NOISE
“Governors?”
“We’re here, sir.”
“Governors?”
“Are you looking around the room for us, sir? We’re on a conference call. We’re not there with you.”
…
“Governors?”
“Mr President, I’m going to take charge on behalf of the state executives. This is Governor Pritzker of Illinois.”
“Not a fan!”
“Well aware, sir. Mr. President, you need to tone down the divisive rhetoric. The country is in a fragile and shaky position right now, and you are fomenting violence. Nothing you’re doing right now is helping.”
“You’re fired.”
“You cannot fire me.”
“You’re impeached.”
“Can’t do that, either.”
“Why not? I was impeached. Now you’re impeached. Impeachment!”
“Not how it works. Sir, I am literally begging you to make some conciliatory remarks. Or just stop throwing gasoline on the fire.”
“Which is incredibly cheap right now thanks to me, but I have gotten no credit at all. You can fill your tank for pennies. Pennies! And no one says, ‘Thank you, Mr. President. Obama had expensive gas, and also all the gas was menthol because they love menthols.’ Not me! Best gas prices in decades.”
“That’s aside from the point.”
“The point is that all of you are pussies. Giant, giant pussies. You really looks like jerks, all of you. You let the blacks and Democrats burn your cities down, and you just sit there. Oh, no. Please don’t hurt me, Mr. Black! Or White. There are a lot of blacks named White. Not a lot of people notice that. Maybe it’s like an irony thing. Like how a really big dude is named Tiny. That would be worth looking into. Y’know what? We’ll do a task force.”
“Mr. President, can we get back to the subject at hand?”
“Your weakness? All of you are shameful. Shameful! Like dogs! You let your blacks and your hippies and anTEEfa run around like animals, and they treat you like dogs.”
“AnTEEfa?”
“That’s how I say it.”
“Why?”
“What all of you need to do is call in the Marines. I’m gonna send all of you some Marines. We have some at the White House, they’re the most enormous sons-of-bitches you’ve ever seen. And all of them come up to me, Oh, Mr. President. Please let us go to St. Louis and shoot criminals. That’s why we became Marines, Mr. President, but Obama wouldn’t let us off the chain. You need to let the Marines off the chain, or the blacks are going to keep treating you like dogs.”
“Everything you just said was either wrong or Constitutionally forbidden.”
“Constitution, shmonstitution. We can worry about the Constitution later. After my re-election, we’ll worry about the Constitution.”
“No, sir. The Constitution still applies. Which means you cannot deploy the military on domestic soil, and there are strict limits in the ways the National Guard can be utilized.”
“Nukes.”
“Good God, you didn’t just say–”
“We’re gonna do a nuclear.”
“–nukes. Jesus, take the wheel.”
“A small one. What’s the smallest nuclear we have? Maybe we do it outside a city to warn the looters. That’s what looters get! Historically, that’s what looters get! Koreans on roofs with rifles, nukes, whatever. We’re gonna try to do a small nuclear, or maybe not so small? Maybe not so small.”
“You cannot drop a nuclear device on an American city, Mr. President.”
“Sure, I can. Open up the plane door, push it out. Bing bang boom. It’s called a hatch, the plane door. In a building, you call it a door, but on a plane, it’s a hatch. You shove the nuke out and there you go. Maybe you light a fuse, I don’t know, that’s the technical stuff. I don’t get into the technical stuff, but if I did I would be great at it. Very good at technical!”
“Sir–”
“This is the radical left. Way, way, way left. You can barely see them over there, very nasty, the worst kind of people you ever wanna meet. I have friends in Los Angeles, in show biz, real sharks, high-up guys, and they called me this morning and said ‘Mr. President, the WOOD is gone. The communists and anarchists stole WOOD. All that’s left is HOLLY. We can’t leave our beautiful sign looking like that. China is laughing because we don’t have WOOD, Mr. President.’ Laughing at us!”
“Sir–”
“You’re allowed to shoot first! Someone has to shoot first, and maybe it should be the good guys for a change? We’re dealing with terrorists here, and the rules are different for terrorists. Shoot first!”
…
“I’m gonna go be sick.”
“Ooh, that reminds me. We’re doing Arby’s for lunch.”
Some things are true for just a little bit, and other things are always true.
“Some officials were urging that Mr. Trump hold events intended to show black voters enraged over the latest videotaped act of brutality that he heard their views. A group of advisers discussed plans for a series of “listening” events.” – New York Times, 5/31/20
“Are we doing the blacks now? Are we bringing them in here, or am I going to them? I don’t think I should go to them. The President of the United States shouldn’t go to blacks. That’s not right. Lincoln didn’t go to blacks.”
“We’re doing it in here, sir.”
“General?”
“He hasn’t worked here in, like, a year, sir. It’s me, Mike Pence.”
“You can’t be in here when I talk to the blacks. They hate abinos.”
“I’m not an albino, sir. Just pale.”
“Blacks and albinos are like cobras and mongooses. Natural enemies. You’ve never seen fights like this. Very vicious!”
“Yes, sir. Should we bring in the participants?”
“I thought we were getting blacks.”
“That’s who I was talking about.”
“When you hear ‘participant,’ you don’t think blacks. ‘Defendant.’ When you hear that, you think blacks. Not ‘participant.'”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bring in the blacks!”
GROUP OF AFRICAN-AMERICAN VOTERS WITH VARYING AGENDAS ENTERING THE OVAL OFFICE NOISE
“Oh, these are great blacks. Just looking at ’em. Just looking at ’em, I can tell. I can spot greatness in blacks! Bill Belichick has told me that on several occasions. He would send me tape of college kids, running backs, blacks, and I could spot talent better than most of his scouts. Maybe all. I can pick winners, and Coach always says what an eye for blacks I have. You, you a running back?”
“Me, Mr. President?”
“Bingo.”
“I am not a running back.”
“Linebacker?”
“No, sir.”
“Middleweight?”
“I am not a professional athlete of any sort, Mr. President. My name is–”
“Don’t tell me, lemme guess. No one, probably in the history of the world, has ever been as good at guessing black names as me. It’s a skill. It’s also a talent. It’s a talent, but it’s also a skill. Let’s just say both. But, yeah, guessing black names. Always came easily to me. Could’ve worked in any carnival in America.”
“Sir, please don’t guess–”
“J.J.”
“–guess my name. Nope.”
“Rog.”
“Please don’t say–”
“Rerun.”
“–Rerun. God, this is going how my whole family warned me it would go.”
“Do you know Tito Jackson?”
“I have not met the man.”
“Jermaine?”
“I’ve met no Jacksons at all, sir.”
“The father was rough, but he got results. Those kids were winners. Singing, dancing, the whole thing. Michael got weird. I knew him, very good friends but not so good. You know what I mean. I could tell you some Michael stories. Kooky guy, kooky guy. What do you play?”
“Sir?”
“What instrument do you play?”
“I am neither a professional athlete, nor a musician.”
“So you rap?”
MAN COUNTING TO TEN INSIDE HIS HEAD NOISE
“No, sir. I own a roofing company in Wilmington, Delaware, and I’m a part-time deacon at my church.”
“But you fit the rapping in.”
MAN COUNTING TO TWENTY INSIDE HIS HEAD NOISE
“Mr. President, we were invited here in the promise of a good-faith dialogue about the turmoil now sweeping the nation, and your administration’s response to it.”
“Excellent ratings on that! Some of the best, if not the best, that I’ve gotten, or maybe any President has ever gotten. Right after 9/11, Bush was up there, but about 90% of the country thinks I’m doing everything perfectly. About 90%, and from some polls that are very unfair and mean to me. But now they’re nice. Now, they’re nice. Which is nice. It’s nice to be nice.”
“I agree.”
“Joe Biden hates the blacks.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Except when he’s raping them. And some of those rapes are hate-rapes. That’s a thing that people are talking about more and more, Hate-Rapin’ Joe Biden.”
“Is that your new nickname for him?”
“I’m workshopping it. Pooky–”
“Holy shit, that is not my name.”
“–you want Burger King? I’m assuming you do. No better investment than a Burger King in Harlem. I think it’s the fries. You taste the fries and you say ‘Blacks would love these.’ Maybe it has to do with the salt. We can look into that. That would be interesting to look into. Maybe we’ll have Jared do that, too. What do you think?”
“About what?”
“Burger King. They have a chicken sandwich over there, best in the world. Wendy’s is good, but not like this. It’s long! Like a sub sandwich! But it’s from Burger King. Sometimes, I get the burger, the Whopper, they call it the Whopper. Usually I’m a Big Mac man, but sometimes I’ll go for the Whopper. Change it up. What are you getting?”
“I don’t want Burger King.”
“Don’t be ashamed to eat it in front of me.”
“It’s not that in the slightest.”
“I can understand not wanting to eat Kentucky Fried Chicken in front of me. I know you people are sensitive about that, even though it’s ridiculous. The Colonel is for everyone.”
“Okay, this is not worth the $100.”
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