That’s a nice coat, Mr. Davis.
“Course it is, you dumb hillbilly.”
“I got nothing against the Jews over what I got against white people. Fuck all y’all.”
Enlightened, I guess.
“Jews always wanna hang out with blacks until there’s trouble. Then, you motherfuckers don’t know us until we pay the retainer.”
Can we talk about anything else?
“I did a lot of those rock festivals in the late 70’s, early 80’s. More money. White bitches everywhere. Most of those rock stars were some no-playing motherfuckers. Knew two chords and one of them was wrong. Played that happy baby shit. Couldn’t stand it.”
Was there anyone you did like?
“Liked the Grateful Dead. Played with them a few times. Spacey white people walking around without shirts on. Good money. Crowd listened. Didn’t mind that shit. Who was the fat Mexican?”
“Yeah, him. Smelled like a wet dog, but he knew a flat from a sharp. Loved my music. Who was the bitch? Tall with pretty hair.”
That was actually a man named Bob.
“I couldn’t tell. See, all those rock stars were bitches. Didn’t have no masculinity about them. What’s the name of the one in the jeans who talks about his daddy?’
I don’t think he is.
“I can spot a homosexual. See, when a man lets his mother tell him what to do, this turns him into a homosexual.”
I don’t think it does.
“Bill Evans dabbled in homosexuality for years, but he gave it up for heroin. Made me proud.”
Mr. Davis, may I ask you a question?
“Depends on if it’s stupid or not.”
How did you get your distinctive voice?
WHAT? That was a stupid question!?
“Not that bad. Just hadn’t shot at you in a while. Thought you was getting a little comfortable.”
“Had a polyp removed from my larynx. Doctor told me not to raise my voice for a month.”
“Ran into a motherfucker needed yelling at.”
How long after the doctor told you not to raise your voice did that happen?
“During the conversation. The motherfucker was the doctor.”
Of course it was.