Fuck it: it’s Bruce Day.
Seriously: does anyone have this information I’m looking for? Who’s playing Charlotte on June 10th? The circus? Monster truck show? Is it a band? Is it a band I’ve heard of? Who could it be?
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Fuck it: it’s Bruce Day.
Seriously: does anyone have this information I’m looking for? Who’s playing Charlotte on June 10th? The circus? Monster truck show? Is it a band? Is it a band I’ve heard of? Who could it be?

I don’t know if I’ve told you this, but I’m from Jersey. Proud of that today.
Does anyone know who’s scheduled to play Charlotte on June 10th?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nKtvIhjEovA
Doing the right thing shouldn’t be rare, not should it need to be pointed out and rewarded. Except that it’s a shitty and mean world, full of God and money and dumb, so: Good for you, Bruce.
Song’s from Charlotte, by the way.
“We were playing…and suddenly I was viewing this from about 20 feet behind my head, and I looked over at John from that point of view and it was 20 years later and John was almost fully gay. I looked over at Oteil and his hair was white. I looked over to my left and Jeff’s hair was all gray.”
Fully gay. Not just, you know: some dicks on the weekend. Fully gay.
Even when it’s a typo, Bobby gonna Bobby. Read it here and I’ll goof on it later if the place doesn’t fill up with Garcias.

“You rang?”
Get out! Too early for this bullshit!
“I’m Pay Cable Garcia. Wanna see some blood and tits?”
Get out!



“Hey, Jer.”
“What, Bob?”
“I think that guy’s smoking pot.”
“Good for him.”
“I think he’s one of the cool kids.”
“Weir.”
“His girlfriend’s a cheerleader and he has a car.”
“Weir.”
“They make out in the car, probably.”
…
“If you don’t shut up and play your guitar, I’m not giving you back the collar to your shirt.”
“You promised!”

“We’re all so darn proud of ya.”
Shit.
“Comment section and I.H.O.G.–”
The International House of Garcias, yeah.
“–are all just havin’ theyselves a whale of a hoot of a jamboree of a possum roast.”
Slow down on the folksiness.
“Can’t help it. I’m Backwoods Garcia.”
What does that even mean?
“Ever be deep in them piney woods and hear a guitar solo?”
No.
“Well, that’s me playin’.”
Is this some sort of animism thing?
![[PDF] Randy Quaid released from](http://thoughtsonthedead.com/wp-content/uploads/PDF-Randy-Quaid-released-from-300x188.jpg)
“WE ARE GOOD CHRISTIANS, SIR.”
Oh, good. More.
“Bedevil us not with your heathenry.”
Are you Old Testament Garcia?
“No, I’m Dennis Quaid’s Brother Garcia.”
This doesn’t even have a premise! This is all fucking stupid and makes no sense!

“Why can’t you accept that there are Garcias everywhere?”
…
“Look to your left: Garcias; to your right: also Garcias.”
…
“Neither of us are Garcias, though.”
Don’t lie to me, fuckers.
“It’s true.”
So, you’re not Twin Garcias?
“Of course not. That’s ridiculous.”
That’s what I’ve been saying. Thank God for some sane people.
“We merge to form one Garcia.”
Ah.
“We are Voltron Garcia.”
Fuck you.

“Can you not see the infinite Garcias in the world’s eyeballs?”
I have no idea how to answer that.
“I am Foreign Garcia.”
Yeah, I’ll give you that: you are foreign as fuck.
“My man-bun knows secrets.”
Probably.

“I like the bit as well.”
And which Garcia would you be?
“No, no: I am a Bobby.”
I quit.

The Limbo contest was Bill Graham’s idea, and it didn’t catch on.
I’ll watch this ten more times and tell you dumb jokes about it later, but for now: there is more Star Wars, now featuring space kung fu.
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