Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: kim jong un (Page 4 of 8)

Pyongyang, Do I Declare

May 24, 2018 / / 0 Comments

Why aren’t you at Dead & Company rehearsal?

“Dude, this content isn’t going to provide itself.”

Uh-huh.

“Do you think I should start a beef with Lil Tay?”

I think you should get to Mill Valley and rehearse.

“Ugh. They’re all so old, man.”

Jeff and Oteil are younger than you.

“Both of them are in their 50’s.”

Right. You’re, what, a youthful 54?

“I see what you’re doing and it’s not working.”

That forehead of yours is getting some furrows in it.

“It is not.”

Maybe a little ‘tox? Little bit of ‘tox?

“Botox doesn’t work for me.”

Why not?

“Because after I get the injections, I can’t do my guitar faces.”

Makes sense.

“The kids love the faces.”

They do.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“We were kind of getting along.”

I know. Just free-floating aggression.

“I should hire someone to hurt you.”

Give me the money; I’ll do it myself.

…

“John Mayer, Maker of Content.”

“Hot Dog Dick! You read papers?”

“I read Variety, Buzzfeed, and sometimes my accountant tells me the hockey scores.”

“Summit cancelled. Dotard call off. Kim Jong-Un so sad.”

“Is that why you’re at the water park?”

“Some sadness, only water park can fix.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to working towards peace.”

“Peace!? Ha! Hot Dog Dick is funny. Triple threat. Guitar, friendship, humor. So talent.”

“You didn’t want peace?”

“No. Want to humiliate Creamsicle Face.”

“Can’t you leave him alone?”

“Is too much fun. He like wind-up doll made of stupidity and french fries.”

“True.”

“Father invent french fries.”

“Can I go? I have an ironic video that I have to promote.”

“We still doing irony? It 1998 again?”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Can I opt out?”

Go to rehearsal.

Mayer And Son

May 23, 2018 / / 3 Comments

You’re just gonna take that?

“Take what?”

The kid’s dominating you.

“He’s not.”

He’s looming over you like Batman standing over a piss trough.

“Weird analogy.”

You’re the piss trough.

“I got it, but it’s still unpleasant.”

Why are you seated?

“Want to.”

Uh-huh. Trick knee acting up?

“I don’t have a trick knee.”

It gets all achy when it rains. It’s okay, Josh.

“Don’t call me that.”

Sir?

“DON’T CALL ME…I see what you’re doing, and it’s not right. I’m not old.”

41 in a few months. How’s your bird?

“My what?”

Your tool. Your schvantz. Your pecker.

“It’s fine. He’s great.”

Can you still hang a towel off your boner?

“I haven’t tried in a while.”

DON’T YOU LIE TO ME, FUCKER.

“It stays on if I keep my butt clenched up.”

Yeah, see, that’s the first sign. Bird loses its feathers.

“Dude, don’t worry about me. I’m still young, I’m still hot, I’m still banging pop stars.”

Who now?

“Camilla Cabello. Very sexy.”

How old is she?

“She’s very mature.”

Uh-huh. Lemme ask you something.

“Shoot.”

Does she remember Aretha Franklin?

“I’m sure she’s aware of Aretha.”

Can you dance together?

“I see what you’re doing.”

Can you talk at all?

“Stop it.”

Dude, you’re literally a Steely Dan song. I don’t know any surer sign that a white man is getting older than becoming a Steely Dan lyric. Maybe becoming a Paul Simon lyric.

“None of what you’re saying is true. I’m content with my age, and I am as young as ever. I appeal to the youth market.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“What!? What did I say?”

Nothing. I just wanna wrap this up.

“Asshole.”

…

“The very young John Mayer.”

“One month, Hot Dog Dick!”

“Goddammit.”

“Whole world come to Only Korea. Watch Kim Jong-Un dunk balls in Kim Jong Don’s ass-mouth.”

“I don’t think the meeting’s gonna happen. Wait. ‘Kim Jong-Don?'”

“Is new rule. Everyone named Kim Jong now. You should be Kim Jong-Little Potato, but I let you slide because we bros.”

“Thank you.”

“Call you Hot Dog Dick”

“Y’know, maybe I’ll start making up nicknames for you.”

“Huh. Okay. And maybe someone throw radioactive acid in your face next time you in airport.”

“Kim Jong-Un it is.”

“You like hat?”

“Eh.”

“Is no fedora. Is trilby.”

“I know.”

“People get wrong. Look sexy with hat. Chicks dig. You come to summit in June. We do like you and Chapelle.”

“What?”

“During meeting. You bring guitar. Jam while talk. Respond to conversation with musical emphases.”

“No.”

“Father invent Dave Chapelle.”

“He didn’t. I have to go.”

“Hot Dog Dick, why you no tell me you have twink?”

“He’s not my twink. He’s my friend.”

“You should fuck. Kim Jong Un not gay, but Kim Jong Un would destroy.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“He no walk right after me.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

“I officially want out of this website.”

Fuck, no. Summer tour’s coming up. If anything, your part will be expanding.”

“Goddammit.”

작은 감자

April 29, 2018 / / 4 Comments

“We’re back on the Radio Randy Show right here on SiriusXM’s GD Channel. All day, all night, all Dead.”

“Did you think that up?”

“No, that was our jingle guy.”

“What’s his name?”

“Jingle Jeff.”

“Ah. Well, uh, tell him ‘Good work’ from me.”

“That’ll mean a lot to him.”

“Is he a Deadhead?”

“No, his family was just eaten by hippos. He could use any compliment right now.”

“Hippos are a danger.”

“Bobby, how’s the tour going?”

“It depends on when we are, Randy.”

“Early 70’s.”

“Then, uh, the tour’s going real well.”

“Was there a show you liked in particular?”

“Green Acres always made me laugh.”

“Have you found your keys yet?”

“No. And, uh, that’s going to be a problem. You can’t hotwire a Tesla. Although, you know, I do have Elon Musk’s phone number. He could probably unlock the car from his phone.”

“Bob?”

“Yes, Radio Randy?”

“You are going to remember to bring me back to 2018 with you when you go, right?”

“Fingers crossed.”

“Doesn’t fill me with hope.”

“Have you tried Buddhism?”

“Lets take a call.”

“Sure.”

“Hi, caller, you’re on with Radio Randy and Bob Weir.”

“Bob, we need to talk.”

“Hey, Josh. Why are you, uh, captioned?”

“I’m also on Snapchat.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“Because you’re in the early 70’s?”

“No. I’m never gonna know what Snapchat is. Trust me on this one.”

“Okay. Bobby, listen: the new nickname is not cool.”

“Little Potato?”

…

“Oh, THAT you can remember!?”

“Well, it’s real catchy.”

“Dammit.”

“And, uh, descriptive. You’re little, and you’re like a potato.”

“First off, I’m 6’3″.”

“Only when you’re standing.”

“And how the fuck am I like a potato?”

“You got eyes.”

“Everyone has eyes, Bobby.”

“Probably taste much better with salt and butter.”

“Everything tastes better…can we just not call me that?”

“I’m not the guy to ask. It’s kinda, you know reached the zeitgeist, I guess you could say. Everyone’s heard it by now.”

CALL WAITING NOISE

“I think that’s us, Radio Randy.”

“Call Waiting doesn’t exist when we are, Bob.”

“Yeah, I know. We brought it with us.”

“That makes no sense.”

CALL WAITING NOISE

“Just press the button, Randy.”

“Gotcha. Hey there, caller.”

“Let speak to Tiny Potato Dick.”

“Hey, bro.”

“I’m not your bro.”

“Look where am. Potato everywhere. Like you.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“No can get Kim Jong-Un down. Killing it this week, bro. Everybody love Kim.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Soon Only Korea will rejoin with Not Real Korea and Kim be in charge of all. Everyone thank. Have big party. Get Rod Stewart come and play hits.”

“Rod Stewart?”

“Only Korea love Rod the Mod.”

“I’m hanging up.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Radio Randy? I still here. Have question for Bob.”

“Sure, caller. Go ahead.”

“Bob?”

“Yuh-huh?”

“When you bring back Brother Esau? Is my jam.”

“That’s a good idea. Maybe, maybe.”

“Kim Jong-Un having best week.”

Meeting Of The Minds

March 9, 2018 / / 2 Comments


Butterscotch. Tiddlywinks. Foot.

“What are you doing?”

Are you not listing words on your little board?

“Words that have something to do with my lecture.”

Lecture? You’re a lecturer now?

“I know, right? It’s like: where does he find the time in the day to master so many forms of performance? Guitar, singing, acting, Instagramming, and now I’m a teacher. I share my gifts with the world.”

Are you calling herpes a gift?

“Please go away. I’m busy teaching these kids how to write a hit song.”

Do you still remember how to do that?

…

You know, cuz it’s been a while.

…

Since you wrote a hit song. Like, a decade or so.

…

You not talking to me?

“No.”

Fine. Talk to him.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Nope. Not picking up.”

Pick it up.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Nuh-uh.”

Pick it up.

“No.”

CELL PHONE LEAPING FROM THE POCKET OF OVERLY-EXPENSIVE JEANS AND PUNCHING A GUITARIST IN THE NOSE NOISE

“Ow!”

Pick up the phone.

“I hate you.”

Yeah, yeah.

…

“You’re on with John.”

“Hot Dog Dick! Long time no talk!”

“Ah, fuck.”

“Guess who back? Back again. Un is back. Tell friend.”

“Don’t quote Eminem at me.”

“Slim Shady real hip-hop. No like Lil Xan. He disrespect hip-hop.”

“Why do you know who Lil Xan is?”

“Follow on Twitter. So much beef.”

“Why are you calling?”

“Back on top, Hot Dog Dick! Kim Jong-Un in news again! Didn’t even need to blow up nuke or kill college student this time! Gonna meet Dotard. Take selfie.”

“I don’t think the meeting’s actually gonna happen.”

“Will happen. Take selfie.”

“Kim–”

“Name is Un. Only Korean name go backwards. Children know this.”

“–no one is going to let this meeting take place.”

“I got ace in hole. Gonna talk Annoying Orange into it.”

“Who?”

“He on other line. I three-way.”

“Do NOT three-way me!”

“I three-way. You there?”

“Da.”

“Hot Dog Dick, is Putin. Putin, is Hot Dog Dick.”

“My name is John Mayer.”

“Nyet. You are Hot Dog Dick.”

“Haha! Putin call you Hot Dog Dick.”

“Okay, Putin have to go. Big election coming up. Have press conference.”

“You’re gonna take questions from reporters?”

“Nyet. Vant to gather them in one place so is easier to murder them.”

DIAL TONE NOISE BECAUSE PHONES STILL DO THAT IN RUSSIA

“Hot Dog Dick, I got favor.”

“I’m not doing you any favors.”

“Need new clothes for big meeting. Want to look sharp. Like Joe Jackson. You remember Joe Jackson, Hot Dog Dick?”

“Of course I remember–”

“Sang is different for girl. So true. Is very different for girl.”

“Please let me–”

“Help Kim Jong-Un, John Mayer. Need fancy outfit. Need be flossing.”

“You want me to help you pick out clothes?”

“Yes. You best at clothes. Much style. So fashion.”

…

…

…

“Dammit.”

“Yes! Kim Jong-Un and Hot Dog Dick have storyline again!”

“Dammit.”

 

Miles, In The Sky

September 22, 2017 / / 4 Comments

That your car, Mr. Davis?

“No, motherfucker. There just happened to be a fucking Ferrari 275 in the middle of the park. I just found it.”

There’s no need for the sarcasm.

“Stop being so dumb, I’ll stop being so mean.”

Will you really?

“Probably not. I just don’t like you.”

Sure.

“Gotta drive a man’s car. Ferrari’s all right. Used to have a Mercedes. Always like to have a nice car. Gotta keep that shit clean, too. Wash it when it gets any dirt on it. Look fresh. Philly Joe Jones tried eating a slice of pizza in my car, I fired him.”

Seems a bit extreme.

“Nah, you didn’t know Philly. Let that motherfucker eat his pizza in my Mercedes, he’d be having fucking picnics in there a week later. N—-r couldn’t rest until he found the line and stepped over it.”

I guess.

…

“Did you just censor me, motherfucker?”

Mr. Davis, I’m just not comfortable with that word.

“Why not? White people invented it. Own your shit.”

I’m just not going to let you–

BANG!

–use that word no matter how many times you shoot at me.

“Bitch.”

That’s fine, for some reason.

“You ain’t scared of bitches; you scared of n—-rs.”

STOP THAT, PLEASE.

“Oh, wouldn’t want to make a white man uncomfortable. Worst crime there is.”

“You want me execute him, Obama?”

“This motherfucker again?”

“Who gave the Chinaman a jet plane? They can’t even fucking drive.”

Mr. Davis, I am begging you to dial back your horridness.

“Suck my dick.”

“Suck all dick, loser. Look at doily Kim got for head. Is best doily.”

Why are you here again?

“Never left. Kim always here. Watching. Smoking.”

“I’ll give the fat bastard that. Motherfucker loves his smokes.”

“Obama and Kim smoking buddies. Gave present, carton of Only Korean cigarettes.”

“I threw that shit out. Tasted like a cat’s asshole.”

“Yes. Contain cat.”

“Motherfucker, you let me smoke cat?”

“Father invent cat.”

Mr. Davis, please don’t–

BANG!

–shoot at the crazy person with the nukes.

“It okay. He only hit general. Got more.”

“I was aiming at that motherfucker. Just a warning shot.”

You’re not supposed to kill people with warning shots.

“That how warning shots work in Only Korea.”

“You heard the n—-r.”

I regret all of this.

Smokin’

September 21, 2017 / / 4 Comments

“Look how good I fucking look.”

You look damn good, Mr. Davis.

BANG!

What was that for!?

“Don’t put your eyes on me like I’m a bitch.”

You literally told me to look at you.

“In a masculine way. You was all sissy-looking.”

I apologize, I guess. When is this? Late 40’s?”

“Round there. I made this date and they called it Birth of the Cool. All the white people got to hear what we were playing in New York when they wasn’t around. Downbeat called it hard bop or some dumb shit like that.”

What did you call it?

“Music, motherfucker.”

Sure. Is that a joint?

“Shit, no. Pall Mall cigarette. Never enjoyed marijuana. Makes you dopey. I prefer dope.”

Okay.

“People talk bad about heroin, but it makes a motherfucker feel good. Recorded some masterpieces when I was shooting dope. Also got my pants stolen a lot. Up and down time for me. Cocaine’s nice, too. Trick is that you just do a little bit. Small line every ten minutes. Do that all night and you’re good. Can’t be greedy.”

That sounds a bit greedy.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Okay.

“The smokes, though. Can’t beat them. Three or four packs a day, then you sweat out the tar while you’re playing.”

I don’t know if that’s how it works.

“Obama right. Sweat out cigarette, no get cancer.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

Goddammit.

“Smoke ’em if got ’em.”

“Who the fuck are you? I didn’t order no fucking Chinese food.”

“No be racist.”

“I’m gonna be fucking racist, motherfucker.”

“You change, Obama.”

INTENSE GLARING NOISE

“Stop looking Kim Jong-Un like that.”

“Or what, motherfucker?”

“I call you dotard.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“No know.”

…

“Hey, bitch.”

Me?

BANG!

Me. Uh, yes?

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Mr. Davis, are you familiar with the concept of semi-fictionality?

“FATHER INVENT SEMI-FICTIONALITY!”

“Motherfucker, I knew I shouldn’t have talked to you.”

Everyone says that.

Every Breath You Take

August 11, 2017 / / 2 Comments

You’re up early.

“Nah, fucker. Up late.”

What’s happened to you?

“Vacation Trixie is a fucking hellcat, bro. I’m raging.”

You’re taking a hike with your mom.

“It’s a family-oriented rage.”

How was the after-party?

“Party was wild. It was really a Jerry Tribute.”

Nitrous room?

“Nitrous room. I stay away from that shit, though.”

Good choice.

“I stuck with shrooms and cognac.”

Is that a good combination?

“It’s an active combination. Lotta things going on at once.”

Okay.

“Poured a little out for dad.”

That’s sweet.

“Then I lit a mattress on fire for him.”

Sweet in a different way, but still sweet.

“Ow. Someone’s flashing a light in my eyes from over there.”

Where?

“There!”

Are you pointing?

“Yes.”

Well, Trix, this is a dialogue-based form. I just can’t–

“Go and take care of it, dipshit.”

Yes, ma’am. Hey!

“Vhat?”

Oh, this is creepy.

“Is personal now. Putin develop feelings for Trixie Grateful.”

Dude, you back the fuck off.

“All is fair in love and var.”

That’s kind of your motto, isn’t it?

“Da. In Russian, but: da.”

Stay away from Trixie.

“Putin vill take her like Crimea.”

None of this is okay.

“I vill voo her.”

Voo?

“Nyet. Voo. I vill voo her. Putin vill pitch his voo.”

Ah.

“Do nyet make fun of accent.”

What could you possibly have to offer Trixie?

“Poland.”

You don’t have Poland.

“Give Putin two years.”

She doesn’t want Poland.

“Dacha on Black Sea.”

Not her thing.

“Condo in Trump Tower.”

Definitely not her thing.

“Maybe Putin send dick pic.”

Yeah, try that. I bet she’ll go for it.

“You think?”

Uh-huh.

“Putin vill take selfie of Russian meat. Must go fluff and…vhat is light flashing over there?”

Where?

“Ve should nyet repeat this joke.”

True.

“Putin see.”

“Kim see you, Snowball Dick.”

Goddammit.

I’m not okay with this.

“Hello, Fatty.”

“Hello, Baldy. See you found shirt.”

“Vhen you are not great big fatso, you valk around vithout shirt.”

“Keep up talk. After nuke America, maybe nuke you.”

…

“Kim Jong-Un went too far. Apologize.”

“Spaceeba. Vhy you here?”

“Jerry Tribute. Warren Haynes there, then I there.”

“Am burned out on Varren Haynes.”

“No talk bad about Warren.”

“Is enough vith him.”

“War-dog is man!”

SHUT UP the both of you. I need you out of America right now.

“Nyet.”

“Here to stay, Yankee Noodle.”

A Partial Transcript Of Today’s State Department Briefing, 8/9/17

August 10, 2017 / / 1 Comment

“Good morning, everyone. My name’s Heather Nauert. I used to co-host Fox & Friends, and now I’m the spokesperson for the State Department because 2017 is a nightmare from which we cannot wake. Everyone all set? Let’s get this started. Bob?”

“Heather, the president said today that North Korea would face ‘fire and fury’ if it kept threatening us.”

“You’re taking President Trump out of context.”

“How so?”

“You didn’t do the hand thing.”

“Heather, what did the president mean?”

“It means he’s not a guff-taker, unlike some former presidents I can name who are black. Speaking of black presidents, if Obama didn’t want President Trump to start a war with North Korea, then why didn’t he start a war with North Korea? Ever ask yourself that, Bob?”

“I have not asked myself that question, no.”

“There you go. Gillian?”

“Heather, the president sent out a tweet saying that he ‘modernized and updated’ our nuclear arsenal. What did that mean?”

“It means what he said.”

“But it’s not true.”

“Then it was sarcasm.”

“So what you’re saying is that the President of the United States is tweeting out jokes about the nuclear weapons?”

“Weren’t you listening to me about 2017 being a nightmare? Jack?”

“Heather, are there any scenarios including nuclear first-strikes on the table?”

“Ugh. Nukes, nukes, nukes. You guys are boring.”

“Seriously?”

“I’d really love to talk about Mexico and all of its rapists.”

“Heather, the president is waving his ICBMs around like a flasher in the park and you’re surprised we want to ask you about it?”

“What about the 33,000 ICBMs that Hillary Clinton deleted?”

“What?”

“Exactly. Exactly, Jack. Sharon?”

“Heather, the president is threatening fire and fury, but the Secretary of State just claimed that the North Korean situation has not changed.”

“Yes.”

“Those two statements contradict one another.”

“Well, one of them will turn out to be true. Let’s give it a week or two and them circle back to your question.”

TWITTER NOTIFICATION NOISE

“Heather, Kim Jung-Un just sent out a tweet showing himself making love to what looks like a pumpkin with the president’s face on it.”

“Oh, that won’t go well.”

“Will the president…what’s that sound?”

SHA NA NA INTRO MUSIC NOISE

“Aaaaaaay! The Mooch is back! Heather, take five. I got this.”

HUNDRED DOLLAR BILL BEING PUSHED INTO BRA NOISE

“That’s for you.”

TUSH SLAPPING NOISE

“Now, get. This is man’s work, honey. Hey, Sharon! You get that dick pic I sent you?”

“I did, Mr. Scaramucci.”

“Mooch!”

“Do you even work here any–”

“Listen up, candytits. I’m here to report the real position of the Trump Administration. You got your cameras on?”

“Obviously.”

“Nice. Okay. Kim Jong-Un, you softboy cockslurper, I will fuck the undersides of your swaying man-boobs if you say another word about that beautiful, patriotic man I’m so proud to call the greatest president ever. You even understand how many nukes we got? OO-fah, so many. You can’t even count ’em. They’re like giant dicks, Kimmy Gibbler. And we’re gonna fuck you. They’re not aimed at Pingpong or Poopoo or whatever you call that ratshit city of yours. Nuh-uh. They’re pointed at your asshole, Kim. Uncle Sam’s gonna turn you out, bitch. Uncle Sam’s gonna be your daddy. You call The Mooch daddy now.”

“Mr. Scaramucci.”

“Mooch!”

“Is this really what’s passing for diplomacy nowadays?”

“Sharon, this is personal.”

“How?”

“I’m a dog-lover. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Wow.”

“It’s Korean barbecue time.”

SECURITY RUSHING IN NOISE

“There he is!”

“Mooch out!”

Furious, Style

August 10, 2017 / / 3 Comments

“Only Korean Jenkins!”

“Yes, sir?”

“Fatty tweeting again.”

“How are you getting a signal in here?”

“Use general’s giant hats as WiFi antennas.”

“Good idea. What’s he babbling about now?”

“Says he fix nukes. Upgrade. Make nukes great again.”

“In six months? The American government couldn’t even assess their nukes in six months, let alone upgrade them.”

“Jenkins, I beginning to think Fatty is liar.”

“Yes, sir.”

COUNTERFEIT IPHONE NOTIFICATION NOISE

“He at it again.”

“Another tweet?”

“He call me Krazy Kim.”

“That’s kind of forced.”

“Is no Crooked Hillary.”

“How should we respond?”

“I troll.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring me pumpkin, blond wig, and boner medicine. We make GIF.”

“Are you sure, sir? This is how wars start.”

“Is not how wars start. Bring history book. Show me one war ever start like this. We through looking-glass here, Jenkins.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“Father invent looking-glass.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get pumpkin. Find sexiest one.”

“Of course, sir.”

You Dropped A Guam On Me

August 8, 2017 / / 2 Comments

“Only Korean Jenkins!”

“Yes, sir?”

“Where Guam? No can find Guam.”

“That’s a road map of Arizona, sir.”

“Have Arizona starved to death.”

“Yes, sir. Here’s the map you want.”

MAP UNFOLDING NOISE

“Is nice map. Father invent maps.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Guam here?”

“You’re pointing at the map’s index, sir.”

“Here?”

“You’re pointing at your crotch, sir.”

…

“Here?”

“Still your crotch, sir. This is Guam’s location, sir.”

“Middle of nowhere.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I nuke, I do favor.”

“Possibly, sir.”

“Gonna nuke so hard. What did Fatty say?”

“Something about fire and fury, sir.”

“He still on vacation?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Heh. I ruin Fatty’s vacation. Only Korea wins again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“He tweet?”

“Yes, sir. The thing about the fire and fury was a tweet.”

“Holy shit. Is just not appropriate.”

“No argument from me, sir.”

“Jenkins?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Only Korea will clap back.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Take picture of my butthole.”

“And put it on Twitter, sir?”

“Twitter for nerds and teenagers. Put butthole on the Gram.”

“Yes, sir. Any caption?”

“Poop emoji, Only Korean flag emoji, middle finger emoji.”

“I’ll get right on it, sir.”

« Older posts Newer posts »

The Stacks

Follow Us

Google Verification

Follow Us

Follow me on Twitter

© 2021 Thoughts On The Dead

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑