Thoughts On The Dead

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

Bob Weir: Prince Of Mars

“Day 192. I am still trapped on Mars by myself.”

You are not on Mars. You are on Earth in a room with terrible furniture.

“I have made oxygen, using science; I have made hydrogen, using handsomeness; I have made potato salad, using potatoes.”

You don’t know how to do any of those things.

“The Uber I ordered has not arrived.”

You have Wifi?


I’d say.


  1. hey! that furniture is not THAT terrible. it is in the hacienda living room at bobby’s erstwhile prep school, that is why it has the southwestern motif! please don’t criticize it. the school gave mr weir a DIPLOMA last spring.

  2. Bonnie Lass of Fenario

    October 4, 2015 at 12:11 pm

    “My face is the exact color of the surface of my home planet.”

    Been out in the sun too long?

    “NO! It’s genetic you idiot”

    Then why is your hair grey?

    “I had it colored. Fits in better with Earthlings.”


    Let’s talk about your shoes.

    “You might find the lampshade behind me to be far more interesting.”

    Could you please take off that tie before we continue?

    “I am actually naked right now, it would have to be removed surgically.”

    Bob, you’re not a Martian.

    “You’re going to have to take that up with Natasha.”

    Maybe I will.

    “Good luck”

    Thanks, man! See ya laterz.

  3. Sir Luther Von Baconson

    October 4, 2015 at 2:39 pm

    i like it when your hair is puffy Bob

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