Thoughts On The Dead

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

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You’re cranky.

“Oh, have we met? Name’s Garcia, man.”

Stop that.

“Get stuffed.”

This is a needy side of you I haven’t seen before.

“Well, you know, man: gets a little lonely on the bench.”

You guys are about to inherit, run, and destroy a newspaper; you’ll have a big part in that.

“Can I wear the fedora with the press card stuck in the brim.”

Yes.

“Oh, I know: can I be named Scoop?”

Sure.

“Undercover?”

Can’t do any undercovering in a fedora with a press card stuck in the brim, man.

“You’re right, sure.”

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