Thoughts On The Dead

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

Flight Of The Sun, Bird


Who’s screaming?


If this is the sun, then I can’t. I cannot have a conversation with the sun.

“Not the sun, jackass. It’s me.”

The bird?

“Avian-American, thank you.”

I didn’t know.

“You don’t get to call us birds anymore.”

I apologize.


It’s just an eclipse, buddy.

“The shitty Japanese car?”

I did that joke last night. Bring your new material, please.

“Hey, suck my whatever-it-is-that-passes-for-a-dick. I’m a little freaked out here.”

It’s a natural phenomenon. Nothing to worry about.

“Avalanches and aneurysms are natural, and those are things to worry about.”

Neither of us needs to think about avalanches. We live in an entirely flat state where it never snows.

“I don’t like your tone.”

You seem like you’re looking to pick a fight.

“THE SUN WENT AWAY, ASSHOLE! I’m a little tense.”

Well, chill out. It’s gonna come back.

“How can you be sure?”

The scientists told me.

“Same scientists who can’t figure out whether coffee is good or bad for you?”

No. Different scientists. Very trustworthy.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Give it like ten minutes. Everything’ll be back to normal. Well, 2017’s version of normal.

“You promise?”


“Hmph. I am choosing to trust you momentarily.”

Thank you.

“You got any worms?”

I have a Twix bar in my backpack.


Seriously, bro. Everything’s gonna be fine.

“It better be.”

Tell ya what: if the sun doesn’t come back, then you can find me and peck my eyes out or whatever.

“What if it does?”

You have to shit on some Confederate statues.




  1. Now that is the type of deal maker we need.

  2. Luther Von Baconson

    August 22, 2017 at 1:32 pm


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