Hey, Billy. Is that a movie star?
“Nah. It’s the Governor of California.”
Historically, those two professions have not been exclusive of one another.
“His name’s Gavin…Something. He was the Mayor of San Francisco after the black guy with the expensive suits and before the black lady with the goofy name.”
It’s weird that I know who you’re talking about.
“Ass, I paint a word picture.”
I thought you were quarantining in Hawaii.
“Got bored.”
Sure.
“Besides, look how handsome this son of a bitch is. People this good-looking are immune to the ronabarrett.”
Coronavirus.
“I banged Rona Barrett. In my defense, I thought she was Mary Hart.”
No one knows who those people are, Billy.
“Doesn’t change the facts: I fucked.”
Great.
CELL PHONE NOISE
“I gotta take this. It might be Leeza Gibbons.”
It’s not Leeza Gibbons.
“Might be,”
…
“Yello?”
“YOU WILL LICK MY ASS, YOU COCKING CUNTSHITTER!”
“Mom?”
“I FUCKED YOUR MOM IN HER HEART! HER BLACK HEART THAT WAS FULL OF SHIT AND VILE STUPIDITY! COME TO THIS BRIDGE SO I CAN THROW YOU OFF IT!”
“What is that, the Golden Gate? At this hour? Fuck that.”
“FUCK YOU, AMERICAN SOW! YOU ARE A SOW THAT GIVES MILK THAT IS NOT MILK, BUT SHIT. YOU ARE MILKY SHIT MAN! THIS IS YOUR NEW NAME! THIS IS WHAT I CALL YOU!”
“Man, you’re fiesty. I wanna point you at some fuckers I don’t like.”
“I HATE ALL THE FUCKERS!”
“Yeah, we’re gonna be friends. You holding?”
“Ja.”
“Fuckin’ A.”
How is that Billy is the one who just rolls with pretty much everything, and somehow turns it to his advantage?
Years of playing drums with the likes of Phil and Garcia have made all flows go withable to him.