Thoughts On The Dead

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

People Who Should Find A Place Where Fucking Of Oneself Is Possible, And Go There Post-Haste

  • Everybody on Twitter.
  • People who had to be told not to play their little video game in the Holocaust Museum.
  • Cops.
  • Criminals.
  • Sinners.
  • Saints.
  • Whoever prices blueberries. (Seriously: they’re two bucks a pint one week, and six dollars for the same amount the next. I cannot figure out the economics of the situation.)
  • Jews supporting Trump. (More than you’d think.)
  • Bernie Sanders, and his childish fans, and everything about all of that nonsense.
  • Mean Phish Persons.
  • My garbage-human neighbors still setting off fireworks a week after the Fourth.
  • Yankton cocksuckers.
  • This guy over here.
  • That lady right there.
  • All those assholes.
  • Depending on what word you put in the phrase “______ Lives Matter,” you may or may not need to go fuck yourself.
  • Johnny Depp.
  • Who ever designed the parking lot at my pharmacy, because it is too small for the amount of cars that go in and out, and Florida is full of old people who go to pharmacies constantly, and one day I am going to run one of them over and it will sound like a fallen leaf being stepped on.
  • Anyone–anyone at all–who’s got a hot take.
  • So: me, I guess.

3 Comments

  1. Luther Von Baconson

    July 12, 2016 at 4:33 pm

    find a closet full of Offs

  2. Me, too. Just on general principles.

  3. Morning Deuce

    July 12, 2016 at 8:46 pm

    Add my neighbor who “likes the Dead” and blasts Vince era monitor mix shows on his patio while he grills. The guy left the 90’s one time and played, I shit you not, Built to Last. I’d be funny if it wasn’t so sad.

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