Thoughts On The Dead

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

My Final Form

mickey beam crazy bows

Hey, Mickey. Whatcha doing?

“Becoming a human drum.”

Right.

Mick?

“Speak up.”

Mick!?

“Yeah?”

Do you have a secret plan in place to have your remains turned into a drum when you die? Like: tan your skin and that’s the drum head?

“No.”

Okay.

“The plan’s not secret.”

Walked into that one. Is it legal?

“Not at all. Billy’s gonna steal me.”

And take you your body to a tanner, and then the hide to a drum-maker that will work with leather made from man?

“I got a guy.”

Sure.

“You’re skeptical.”

That’s not the word.

“A man can’t be a drum? Maybe I identify as a drum.”

Sure, fine. The thing is: didn’t you have a drum made out of a skull and the thing was bad mojo?

“Oh, yeah. We had to hire many holy men to clean the house, in a spiritual sense. But that guy didn’t want to be a drum; that means it’s bad to drum on him. I do, so it’s good energy.”

That makes a weird amount of sense.

Mickey?

“Uh-huh?”

You like the new layout?

“I don’t read your blog.”

Okay. Mickey?

“Yeah?”

What’s in the wicker basket?

“Candy.”

Can I have some?

“No.”

Okay.

7 Comments

  1. You know it is not obvious that you can comment here. The comment link at the top confused me for a second.

    You Go ToTD.. you Go get this all worked out and monetized and live happily ever after.

    You can do it.


    Tor

  2. log me the fuck back in, WordPress. take me home, boys

  3. going to burn my computer

  4. ToTD.. tell Jesse Jarnow that I am ready to read his book now…

    Goodness how long does it take to print a book?


    Tom

  5. Oh, good. Comments work for images now.

    But shrink the font, man. It’s like traversing the Gobi Desert to scroll from one post to the next. I read faster than that.

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