Thoughts On The Dead

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

A Warning And…Well, Two Warnings

First of all:

cat eyes.png

I got eyes like a hawk that looks just like a tabby cat. (A rare breed known as the kitty hawk, which the town was named after.) You stay out of those chat rooms or bad things will happen. Bad, bad, bad things. Not good stuff. I wish I could be more specific but I don’t feel like trying right now.

I have figured out what it is that irks me about these chat rooms; it is this: they are performative.

“Welcome to couch tour family, fam!”

“Dudes, I am SMOKING POT!”

“Hope we get a heady Bertha!”

“I gave Billy a tugger in Camden!”

We get it. You’re a fan.

Although to be honest, you might all be on the honor system:

swearengen TV shot

Oh, shit. Did you get an HBOGO password?

My invitation to the cocksucker’s ball has arrived, and me with nothing to wear!

Goddammit.

HBO and me? We’re hang fucking dai.

Don’t do this.

THOUGHTS ON THE DEADWOOD!

Fuck.

1 Comment

  1. Let’s go to Deadwood,
    Libertarian Free Market Entrepreneurial Capitalist Paradise.

    And ya get to feed the competition to the hogs.

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