This photo’s the comfort food of Dead pix: Mickey’s wearing a Dead shirt, Phil’s a mess, everyone’s got terrible haircuts, and Billy’s punching renowned gastronomical adventurer Wylie Dufresne in the dick (not pictured.)
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Tag: phil lesh (Page 53 of 105)
“You remember how I promised not to use the Time Sheath technology anymore?”
“You mean after you got caught trying to abandon Ned Lagin in the Pleistocene?”
“I wasn’t abandoning him, Bob. He wanted to see a stegosaurus.”
“But you handcuffed him to a tree and left him there.”
“One thing has nothing to do with the other.”
…
“Did Stegosaurs live in the Pleistocene?”
“I have no idea. Anyway, I might have snuck ahead 40 years, just to take a look around. Plus, my contract was up and I was/will be due for a new phone.”
“How do you use that thing, anyway? The cell towers haven’t been put up yet.”
“Oh, you just beam the signal through the Time Sheath technology. Bear worked it out.”
“Huh.”
“Roaming charges are astronomical.”
“So, what about 40 years from now?”
“Our fanbase seems to be intact, but a good number of them have far more money than brains.”
“How so?”
“You wouldn’t believe what kind of money tickets to our last shows are going for.”
“Fifty dollars.”
“More than that.”
“Sixty.”
“Way more.
“Eighty-five.”
“This’ll take forever, so I’ll just tell you. Five figures.”
“With the decimal point?”
“No, Bob.”
“Jeez.”
…
“Garcia still gonna be dead, Phil?”
“Dead as disco.”
“Future seems all fucked up.”
“That it does, Bob.”
“I’ll still cash the check, though.”
“Fuck, yeah.”
Ned Lagin is just about the same size as one of Billy’s more whiskey-soaked boners. Phil’s beard weighs more than him.
Hey, Bobby.
“Howdy, friend.”
Your hair is shiny.
“Well, first off: thanks for noticing.”
Of course, man. You can spot its lustre and sheen from the back of the hall.
“Yes! Yes. Yes. Y’see, these fuckers–those two homunculi back there especially–never appreciate the effort I put into my hair. For example: I’m a righty, but I switch-part just to mix it up.”
Okay.
“And I keep a chart. Like, if Tulsa got tussled and sassy last time, then for this show, they get swept-back and sultry.”
…
Why is there a motorcycle onstage?
“Is that not standard practice for a concert?”
We need to keep up with the times, gents! What if we made like The Ramones and all changed our last name to “Grateful Dead?” I would be Bobby Grateful Dead, Bobby said.
Last names should be easy to spell, Billy said.
Doesn’t that sound a bit Jewish, Mickey said?
Can everyone pronounce it on the first try, Keith and Mrs. Donna Jean said, then went back to choking each other.
No batter, no batter, Phil said because he had skipped the meeting to watch a softball game.
What’s a last name? Pig said.
“Do I sing? Fuck yeah, I sing: I BELT, motherfucker. I sing of arms, and the man. I sing sweetly and lightly, daily and nightly, til the breaka breaka dawn, y’all.
“My aim is true, and I aim for truth. I learned more from a three-minute record than I ever did at school. Granted, that record was The Monster Mash, but I gleaned my harsh education from the teat of a she-beast I named Julie.
“JUUUUUULIEEEEEEE!
“Parched you come, and I alone slake your thirst. Hungered are you, and my nipples by themselves can feed a small arena. I am your rock and roll Jesus and I tell you now: eat me up, Reno! NOM NOM NOM.”
Phil, you wanna do something about this?
“No. Fuck him. I told him the proper dosage was not a handful, but he didn’t want to listen.”
Hey, guys.
“Yo.”
“Hi, there.”
Tie-dye Friday?
“Yup.
“You betcha.”
Thanks for letting everyone see your feet, Bobby.
“Y’know, you’re the first person to thank me for that?”
That’s weird.
Tossed over the transom by YumCum–
SpamJam.
–whatever, this photo from the night my new best friend and political mentor Senator Pat Leahy (D-VT) attended might occupy a bit of time and space. There is not one acceptable thing about it. I’d say that we’ll go left to right, but we all know I’m going to be making repeated trips back to Phil, so let’s just begin to look at this bullshit.
(The photo blows up nice and big and clear and you just hit the “enhance” button as many times as you can because you want to say as much of this as possible. This is the Dead version of the Hubble’s Deep Field picture, except instead of seeing infinite galaxies as you zoom in, you see infinite bullshit.)
- We start easy with Phil and note that he wearing either Keds or Cousin Eddie’s white loafers from National Lampoon’s Vacation.
- Bobby’s hitting the Jimmy Buffet show after this.
- The SuperCuts that Jill always takes Phil to had burned down (Garcia) so Jill took him to their less-popular competitor MiddlingCuts.
- Which was closed, so she did it herself. You can’t see it, but she cut the bejeezus out of Phil’s left ear.
- Holy shit, are those jeggings, Garcia?
- Everyone needs to stop using the Time Sheath technology to go shopping.
- We can assume that the drummers are up to some bullshit, but can’t see them. I mean, statistically: Billy’s so drunk that he’s no longer racist and wearing a shirt that, in defiance of God’s love, is both tie-dyed and Hawaiian at the same time; and Mickey’s got some sort of smart condom attached to his dong and is trying to make music with his boner, but we can’t verify these things. Therefore, the drummers win this photo by default.
- Is Bobby wearing Dead sneakers?
- There are Dead sneakers?
- If so, how have I not seen Mickey wearing them?
- Bruce looks like he’s gonna ask you about the drive over and whether you want a hot dog or a hamburger.
- Bobby got his socks at Tan Francisco’s Vague Mexican Food and Hosiery. Francisco (who was simply courting skin cancer) sold only the finest in…socks? Leg warmers? They definitely went on your feet. While you were there, you could order a taco or a burrito or an enchilada. You could order whatever the hell you’d like, but you received some stuff wrapped up in a corn something.
- Phil looks like the Target assistant manager who got fired for killing all those people.
- Plus, he’s singing. Yay.
- If you were naked and in public and someone offered you your choice of anything being worn in this picture, you’d choose the accordion. The accordion is the most acceptable thing in this picture.
- Do you realize how tough that is in a non-Bavarian setting?
A shot from the Gizah Sound and Light Theatre, where we find Phil rocking out like no one’s watching.
…
Hello?
It’s a lovely photo of Phil and his new grandkid.
No jokes?
One.
It’s not that they’re both wearing diapers, is it?
No.
That the guy in the back looks like world-famed bear-themed gay porn actor Harry Stuffins playing Josh Brolin?
No.
Huh. Gonna goof on the little baby earmuffs? I know you hate those.
No, no, no. Not the earmuffs.
…
Were you going to accuse Phil of stealing that baby?
WELL, IT LOOKS LIKE A BABYJACKING, MAN.
…
I’d like to stop being part of these little skits, please.
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