Thoughts On The Dead

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

Loveline With Doctor Billy

barstoolsanddreamers, maki.supa,“Hey, Thoughts on my ass, you lonely weirdo!”

Hi, Billy.

“Still on the book tour.”

This thing is becoming Dylanesque.

“Nice one. I can see why he does it, though. You know where my dick’s been the past month?”

In women?

“Lots of ’em! Good-looking, young ones. They’re doing it for the story and, brother: Uncle Billy’s letting ’em.”

Ew?

“I toss Benjy the leftovers.”

Ew.

“Ha! I’m the Bobby now!”

Yeah, kinda. You didn’t go into as much detail in the book as I would have liked about the Dead’s individual preferences in stone-cold teen foxes.

“What a weird man you’ve become.”

Fuck off: spill the beans.

“Are you talking about the Heinz Incident at the Edgewater Inn?”

No, but now I want to know about it.

“Well, we had heard about what Zeppelin got up to there: that was where you fished off the balcony, and they caught a fish and fucked a chick with it, right?”

Variously identified as a mud shark or a red snapper, yeah.

“Well, we were there in ’79 and, you know: tradition is tradition. We got a chick, we got a bucket, we have a maid cowering in the corner babbling to herself in Quechua (don’t ask,) but we got no fish.”

And?

“Mickey got bored and confused and pegged her in the head with a can of beans.”

Why?

“Bang a chick with a fish, throw a can of food at her head: you can understand the confusion.”

I cannot.

“Anyway, what you need to understand is that the only thing we were ever completely realistic about was the sexual pecking order.”

Bobby’s on top.

“In many ways.”

Again: ew.

“Bob was kind of a basic bitch when it came to his taste in chicks. He went for beautiful, except there were always four or five really beautiful chicks there, right? Plus, you know: all the other chicks think they’ve got a shot. And Bobby would take forever making up his mind.”

A holding pattern ensues.

“Phil liked ’em tiny and tight with little apple dumpling boobs. Gymnasts. Female gymnasts, man. One time, Mary Lou Retton came backstage and you could smell Phil’s boner from across the room.”

Nope. Makes no sense. Not a thing.

“Brent had intensely specific sexual needs that could usually only be fulfilled at a theme park. Keith was a mess, too.”

I can imagine.

“He would walk into the Hostility Suite naked with his prick in his hand and scream, ‘WHO WANTS?’ It was shit for the room’s morale, to be honest.”

Yeah. What about you?

“I liked ’em present and willing.”

Good qualities.

“Hey, man: I just wanted to bang a reasonably attractive chick in the bathroom and then get back to doing lines with my buddies. I never understood the pickiness.”

It’s a good strategy, actually.

What about Mickey?

“Mickey’s gay.”

What?

1 Comment

  1. Brent was a furry huh?
    I can see it

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