Thoughts On The Dead

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

Pride Of Marin County

When you woke up this morning, most likely snowed in to the point where you have already eaten the dog, did you think it was Shirtless Phil day? Did you salute the sun with the knowledge that the hairless alabaster that constitutes Phil’s torso would be revealed to you?

Perhaps you would deny this calling–there are things man wasn’t meant to know, rooms best left with the light off, things you can never unsee.

TotD is a believer in informed consent: make up your own minds. But here’s a taste.

phil shirtless jerry

You know you want it.

1 Comment

  1. This reminds me of going to a show, quite by accident, with my Gram’s, a fairly hip S.F. City School teacher. GGP in ’66-’67. I was 12 or 13 years old. She only said: “Don’t eat anything anyone offers you.” A couple of years later, of course, I would eat ANYTHING someone offered me.

    Well, as long as it wasn’t wombat shit or anything…

    The Kustom Bass Head is perfect.

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