Thoughts On The Dead

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

Carve Your Name

The new hottest place to Instagram yourself taking a dab is Garcia Plaque. It’s in front of his childhood home at 121 Amazon Avenue, which is near the Mission. House is still there, too. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and 1,400 square feet: it can be yours for a million.

He might have been born there. 90% of births in 1942 took place on kitchen tables, with the placenta being donated to the war effort. This is where he lost the finger. This was the house he came back to after watching his father drown. He and his brother, Tiff, got sent to 87 Harrington Street after that to live with their grandparents while their mother ran a bar full-time. There’s a plaque there, too.

OR

Why is Garcia not smoking? I call bullshit on this.

Maybe he’s got a cigarette in the other one.

BULLSHIT.

Hey, at least they got the nub in there.

This is political correctness run amok.

It is not.

AMOK.

Stop saying that word.

OKAY.

And stop yelling.

Sure.

1 Comment

  1. Luther Von Baconson

    August 4, 2017 at 1:37 pm

    Placenta Drive

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