Thoughts On The Dead

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

Oh, Babe, It Ain’t No Lie

Hey, Nephew. Whatcha doing?

“Fuming. Fuming, bro”

What happened? You don’t like your onesie? That’s a custom Starhawk job.

“This is not about the onesie. Don’t make it about the onesie.”

What’s it about?

“WHERE THE FUCK IS JERRY?”

Garcia?

“No, Orbach. Of course Garcia.”

Dead.

“You’re shitting me.”

You are three days old, and I’m going to need you to stop cursing.

“No Garcia? I got born in a non-Garcia timeline?”

It’s been 20 years.

“Dude, not cool.”

Honestly, buddy? The lack of Garcia is, like, the least worst thing about 2017.

“Wow. Huh. No Garcia? Tough break.”

It is.

“At least we still have Bowie.”

“MotherFUCKer!”

I don’t know what to tell you, Nephew.

“What were my parents thinking?”

That they love each other and wanted to have a child?

“Selfish.”

Maybe.

“Just one more question.”

Shoot.

“Who’s the president?”

Barack Obama.

“Oh, thank God.”

1 Comment

  1. Thomas Wilkinson

    June 24, 2017 at 10:58 pm

    Sad!

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