Thoughts On The Dead

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

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bobby-page-trey

“Please don’t take Trey, Mr. Bobby.”

“Who?”

“Him. My friend who smiles and solos.”

“Ah. You call him Trey? Is that short for Troy?”

“I don’t understand, Mr. Bobby. Trey is Trey, and he is my friend.”

“Yeah, no. I’m not gonna take him.”

“Trey is a Phish. I am a Phish, and Mike who is mean to me, and the smelly lady who plays drums. And Trey.”

“Gotcha.”

“And you cannot be a Phish. There are four of us. That is why ‘four’ and ‘Phish’ start with the same letter.”

“Can you read, buddy?”

“Trey is teaching me, Mr. Bobby.”

“Since when?”

“We met in 1985.”

“Ah.”

1 Comment

  1. Harvest/planting (no not the good stuff) is wearing me out, but this put a smile on my face!

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