Thoughts On The Dead

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

Neither Joel, Nor Springsteen

billy bruce hornsby peach

Hey, Billy.

“Thoughts on my Ass!”

Been a while.

“On my island. I have entered the Billysleep. In between tours, I enter a state of hibernation to muster my fantastic powers.”

Like the Odinsleep?

“Yeah, but without the capes.”

Everyone in Asgard has a cape.

“Chilly there. Capes don’t work in Kauai. Even if they weren’t so sweaty, a monkey’d probably sneak in there.”

Billy, the Hawaiian Islands have no native monkeys.

“Who you gonna believe, jerkoff: Wikipedia or me?”

Good point. Billy, do you have monkeys?

“Maybe.”

Why?

“Won ’em.”

How the hell are they still alive?

“Your guess is as good as mine. Clever little fuckers, too. One’s got a start-up.”

Can we get back to the Billysleep?

“Why not?”

How long has this been going on?

“Always. First tour. This tour. Think being Billy’s easy?”

Kinda?

“Hell, no! Playin’ drums, punchin’ dick, stickin’ my boner in stuff: wears on a man.”

Maybe you could cut down on the last two things, and the first wouldn’t be so taxing.

“What the fuck’s the point of playing the drums if I can’t punch dick and stick my boner in stuff?”

Yeah, okay. Bill?

“Wha?”

Define “stuff.”

“Ladies, obviously.”

Obviously.

“Stranger’s popcorn at the movies.”

We know, yeah.

“ATM machines.”

Really, Billy?

“It was taking too long!”

Sure.

“Vegas shows, I stuck my boner in a California roll and made the pretty guitar kid watch.”

Why?

“Why’d I fuck the sushi, or why’d I make him watch?”

Let’s start with those two, sure.

“Sushi was begging for it.”

Dammit, Billy.

“And, two: I got a long talk about how I’m not allowed to hit him.”

A talk?

“Okay, several, and I had to sign something. Anyway, you know I like hitting my bandmates on occasion.”

Also kicking and choking.

“Yeah, right: guy stuff.”

I’m not even gonna argue with that.

“But this is 2009.”

Nope.

“And you’re not allowed to hit people now.”

You never were, Billy.

“No, no: I was. I was a rock star. Rock stars used to be allowed to hit lots of people.”

Fine.

“And, shit, these guys were adamant, man. I was like ‘What if they need hitting?’ and the guy was like ‘No,’ and then I said ‘What if I’m bored?’ and he said ‘No, not then, either,’ and so I go, ‘ What about throwing a duffel bag full of furious raccoons at people?’ and the guy goes ‘You can’t do that, and we’ve already discussed it with Mickey. There will be no raccoons on this tour whatsoever’ So now: no punching people, Phil’s black, and it’s a raccoon-less tour.”

“So, I figure: I can’t hit him, I’m gonna make him watch me do weird stuff to lunch.”

Who knows what’s right in this world?

“We punch dick in the dark; we do what we can.”

Yeah. Hey, Bruce Hornsby. You like the new look?

“Look of what?”

The site. Thoughts on the Dead.

“The devil you talking about? I am a grown man and I do not have time to be scalliwagging about in chat rooms with perverts.”

Aw.

“I’m a busy man, son. Got nine different bands. No time for foolishness.”

Okay.

Hey, Dolphin Tattoo.

IIIICKKKKK-ICK-ICK ICCCCCCKKK-ICK.

Yeah, sure.

1 Comment

  1. Luther Von Baconson

    February 24, 2016 at 11:57 am

    “Hornsby, putty that dent you made with your smegma!”

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