Thoughts On The Dead

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

Animal Collective

Bobby always had dogs, Otis most famously. He was good with dogs except for that one Schnauzer named Tippy. Garcia stopped by one afternoon to borrow a cup of guitar strings and walked in on Bobby licking the peanut butter off of Tippy’s red rubber thing. “No, Bobby! That’s wrong! And incorrect. What you’re doing is both wrong and incorrect. Stop it,” Garcia said as he pulled Bobby and Tippy apart. Tippy had to go live on a farm because it was just better that way. Cleaner, y’know? 

Phil might strike one as a cat guy, but one would be wrong. It’s unbelievable how wrong one would be. Like one was trying to be wrong or some smartass shit like that. You smart now, one? Fuck you, one. How about that? Fuck you and your deal, one: I’m walking the fuck out here.

Really?

Sorry. 

Billy had a helper monkey, Li’l Billy, whom he used as he used everything else: as a weapon. Li’l Billy was, for his mercifully short life, just jacked full of everything that Norm’l Billy was taking and then some, as everyone else also thought it hilarious to watch the monkey blow rails. (Which, now that’s it’s out there, does sound awesome.) But tiny monkeys can’t handle drummer-for-the-Dead-sized quantities of pharmaceuticals because: A, they’re tiny; and B, they’re monkeys. It ended neither well, nor with dignity: though he would forever claim it was an obvious misunderstanding, Billy knew what he was doing when he tried to flush Li’l Billy down the toilet. 

Mickey bred and rode horses because he didn’t want people to know he was Jewish.

 

2 Comments

  1. you fool. you may claim to grasp the grateful dead. do you actually? nay. none of us may comprehend that wild band of merry minstrels. the most any of us may say is: once, after spilling a tall boy of rolling rock in various orifices after/while hearing a particularly stirring ’77 brown eyed women, we may feel a portion of the many vastnesses that are not ours to understand. i hope you follow me, brother of mine. if not: best of luck with the blogging and with life brings before you. nothing but love. always here to listen. <3 always.

  2. that may have been a tad ridiculous. nothing but love. i appreciate the livin daylights out of you. hope we cross paths at a show one day, even though you evidently hate pseudo-dead shows. whatever. idgaf, as they say. i’d smoke you out, buy you beer, whatever. you’re a stand-up guy. make it out west. or don’t, whatever suits your fancy. i am drunk but i love you tons. hit me up whenever, 4reels.

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