Four more years ’til any of us have to give a shit about Idaho again.
Iowa.
I already started not giving a shit. It’s all Idaho to me, man.
It is, isn’t it?
More than I’d like to admit.
Thoughts On The Dead
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Page 664 of 1031
If you start your week listening to Ben E. King and The Drifters sing a Doc Pomus tune, then nothing bad can happen to you that week.
Little known fact.
Haven’t had a good group shot in a while. We’ll go left to right for as long as we can, but there’s so much bullshit here. So much bullshit.
- Seriously: so much bullshit.
- Billy looks…
- …
- Jesus, I can’t deal with this; there’s so much wrong.
- Okay, let’s do this: Billy looks like a friendly Italian baker who likes to fuck the cannoli before he sells it.
- “I-a bake-a wit’ love-a!”
- Billy’s eyebrows also look like his mustache’s children.
- Phil had to leave the photo shoot early to meet his Newsie LARPing group at the park.
- The Grateful Dead were not a hat band, and Phil is not a hat person, and that is an ugly hat.
- It’s as if you went to see a badly written play starring terrible actors at a condemned theater: there is a failure at every level.
- I hope the other guys gave him shit.
- We’ll circle back to the two band members who are not looking at the camera.
- As always, Bearded Mickey is terrifying.
- There have been many frightful versions of Mickey: Russian Hat Mickey, Shirtless Mickey, Pantless Mickey, but Bearded Mickey is the scariest.
- Now we take you to the Musician Magazine offices, where they are selecting which photo of the Grateful Dead will be used as the cover photo:
- “I have a bunch of shots of–“
- “Which one does Garcia look coolest in?”
- “Um, this one, but the rest of the band–“
- “Print it!”
- “–looks like goobers. Two of them aren’t even facing the camera. You walked out of the office.”
- And so on.
- Garcia looks like a hippie lion.
- He is fierce.
- Garcia has brought all of his sexy to this photo shoot.
- I mean, he very well may be passed out behind the sunglasses, but still: lion.
- Sleepy, sleepy lion.
- I know I promised to get back to Bobby and Brent, but they’re going to have to take care of themselves.
You all know that TotD is an animal lover, except for the shitty animals, so I offer a simple analogy pertaining to dogs: when you watch the Westminster Dog Show, or hear about “breed standards,” think about this poor asshole in the painting.
We naturally recoil from familial incest, inbreeding, and attempts to “keep the line pure” because we know that that poor asshole is what results. And he was rich as shit, meaning his parents were rich as shit, and if even rich people can’t figure out how to mate within the family and not produce windowlickers like Saddle Face up there, then what hope does a dog breeder have?
To paraphrase a smart man: two legs or four, you can’t fuck your sister and expect anything good to come from it.
Sometimes it feels like I’m the only person in the world who knows that D.B. Cooper and the Zodiac Killer were the same person.
That’s because you just made it up.
No, no: I have evidence.
Did it get stolen?
Yes, or there was a fire. Either one. Listen: to fund his murderous rampaging and interest in cryptology, the Zodiac Killer robbed a bank and hijacked a plane.
Don’t you also believe that Jack the Ripper was hired by the Royal Family to cover up their misdeeds?
No, I don’t.
…
I believe Queen Victoria herself was Jack the Ripper.
There ya go.
I also believe Tommy Lee Jones had JFK killed.
Sure.
Hey, Bobby.
“Razzum frazzum!”
Sure.
Hey, cat. Whatcha doing?
“Looking at something.”
That’s it?
“Dude: cat. I am a cat. When cats look at things, they look at things.”
Huh.
“Lemme ask you: what are you doing right now?”
Writing this, listening to the new Dave’s Pick, checking Twitter, drinking water, scratching my junk.
“Are you doing any of that particularly well?”
Not as such.
“So, who’s the asshole?”
Hey, slow down with the asshole talk, huh?
“Cats are truth-tellers, man.”
Or you’re dicks, whichever.
“You say tomato, I say I’m an obligate carnivore.”
You got a name?
“You can call me whatever you want to call me. It truly does not matter to me.”
Glenda Horowitz?
“Okay.”
Orleans Darkwa?
“Fine.”
%%%%%%.
“Well, you know: sure, whatever, but how do you pronounce it?”
I thought it didn’t matter to you.
“It doesn’t.”
Besides, I have no idea: I just hit shift and a number key at random.
“It’s the effort that you put into your little skits that draws the fans.”
Yeah.
“You bought the new Dave’s Pick?”
I have the new Dave’s Pick.
“Thought so. Selland from ’74, right?”
…
What?
“I can’t be a Deadhead?”
I just didn’t know is all. That’s awesome.
“You didn’t think I could be a Deadhead because I’m black.”
I didn’t think you could be a Deadhead because you are a cat.
“So, you’re racist against blacks and cats?”
You are not black. You are a cat named Glenda Horowitz.
“And we’re adding anti-Semitism to the mix now. Great.”
…
Are you done?
“Yeah. They leave Seastones on?”
All 14 minutes of it.
“Fuckin’ Lemieux.”
Sure.
GIF contest! Put your best in the Comment Section. No weak-ass shit, please. Only the classiest grainy loops of children getting hurt, or animals doing things, or foreign weirdness. Winner gets an actual surprise; bringers of weak-ass shit will be mocked.
- Jeb Bush. (“Sad. Known him for many years. Beat him at golf. Sad man.”)
- Hillary Clinton. (“Not a person to trust. Disgusting. Never easy on the eyes. That voice.”)
- Bill Clinton. (“Probably a rapist. Known him for many years. Beat him at golf. Rape.”)
- Tom Brady. (“Good friend. Played catch once, and I could throw the ball farther. Gotta be honest. Wife is a 10.”)
- Arbor Day. (“Loser holiday. Trees? Trees are great. I got the best trees at Mar-A-Lago. Their own holiday? C’mon.”)
- Gilligan. (“Captain should’ve tossed him in the lagoon. Thurston Howell III: good man.”)
- Second Amendment. (“There’s your amendment. That’s the one you need. All the others? Pssh. Gimme the Second.”)
- Eddie Murphy. (“A talent. Been my guest at a number of properties. He’s a great. He’s fat, he’s not. One of the greats.”)
- Ted Cruz. (“Nasty person. Bad face. Just a terrible face. Don’t know where he was born. He says Canada. Could be. Could be Teheran. Who knows?”)
- Birthday Cake. (“Kid just spit all over it. Not for me.”)
- Hardwood Floors. (“Classiest flooring available. In all my properties. Only wood harder than my floors is in my pants. I still get powerful and natural erections. Many people have complimented me on my erections.”)
- Ronald Reagan. (“Powerful influence in my life. Our greatest president. Many people have told me I resemble him.”)
- The Double Reverse. (“Underrated play. Adds starpower and excitement to a game. Many people have called me a human double-reverse.”)
- Millard Fillmore. (“Lousy name. Not presidential. What’d he do? Loser.”)
- Civil War. (“Stupid war. Goal of a war is to kill foreigners. Boring mini-series.”)
- Kaley Cuoco. (“Great body. Face is good from some angles, not from others. Very odd.”)
- Marco Rubio. (“I don’t speak Spanish. You speak Spanish? No? Okay. Marco Rubio speaks Spanish.”)
- Cape Buffalo. (“A very aggressive buffalo. Wouldn’t want to sit at the negotiating table with one. My son shot a few.”)
- Drag Coefficient of a Plymouth Superbird. (“0.28. Good number. I have owned cars with much better, but that’s good.”)
- Panda Bear. (“I’m sick of handouts. Panda doesn’t want to help itself. Panda’s got a belly made for meat and all day long with the bamboo. Dumb.”)
- Grizzly Bear. (“That’s the kind of bear I’m talking about. Great bear. World-class bear. Doesn’t need government regulations. American bear. My son shot a few.”)
- Lindsay Lohan. (“Sad. Little girl lost. Bad parents. Great body. Really great body. Sad.”)
- Climate Change. (“Change to what? Nobody can answer that. Change to what? Maybe something good.”)
- Barack Obama. (“Worst president of any country ever. Not just America. The crappy countries. Probably born in Agrabah. Total disaster.”)
- Jesus Christ. (“Christianity? Best religion. Hands down. Jewish is okay. Christianity? That’s the one.”)
Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?
“Taking the crowd to the gun show.”
Well, it’s hot out.
“Especially with me here.”
Well played.
“Thanks. Check out the vein. Couldn’t wear Snake T-Shirt, cuz she would have gotten jealous.”
Sure.
“The vein is snake-y.”
I got it. Bob?
“Yeah?”
Garcia still alive?
…
“Mostly.”
Whose decision was it to bring the obese, chain-smoking, opiate-addicted man to the top of a mountain?
“Someone’s.”
Great. Hey, Mickey.
“Yo.”
That’s some good Dead-hat wearin’, Mick.
“I aim to please.”
Okay.
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