Thoughts On The Dead

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

Five minutes.



“I’ll be there.”


“Been doing this a while.”

Yeah. Garcia?

“That’s me.”

What did I tell you about that fucking Time Sheath?

“Aw, come on. Just the first set.”

Absolutely not.

Holy shit, you’re not even wearing a disguise.

“You know how many bearded fat guys are gonna be here?”

Good point, but you have to find a reality where you haven’t been dead for two decades.


Whatever. Someone has to be the grown-up, apparently.

Why do I smell smoke?

“Dressing room caught fire; no idea what happened.”

You’re gloriously consistent, you know that?

“I’m not as complicated as I seemed.”


    • What? Why are people doing this? Is the comment section glitching?

      • Can’t tell if it’s trolls, spambot trolls, or you being so f**king popular.

        Either way, the sign was a nice touch that warmed my crotchety young heart.

      • I have no clue why the other guy does it, but it’s been growing on me, so I gave it a shot myself. Very glad you put the photo to good use.

      • The blog’s reached the level where we have our own in-group references. There’s an anthropology thesis in here somewhere.

  1. So, is the room empty or can, like, Trixie & Annabelle hang out in there?

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