Thoughts On The Dead

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

Set A Course For Adventure

Too cold for a toppermost?

“Far too cold. Toppermost is a temperate piece. Never winter. Now, this young Japanese designer named Toyota Toyota–”


“–is doing incredible work in that streetwear thing they do. What he did is translate the toppermost’s feel into a halfcock.”


“Halfcock. What I’ve got on.”

That’s a coat, Josh.

“Don’t call me that. It’s a halfcock. See the collar? Halfcock.”

How much secret rich-person clothing is there?

“Closets worth, dude.”

Wow. Do all rich people know about this stuff? What about Warren Buffet?

“He would have access to the information. I don’t know if he’d care to investigate.”

Probably not. Why are you recuperating in Montana? It’s cold there. Don’t you have a yacht?

“I don’t have a yacht.”

You should get a yacht. Fuckboat.

“I’m not getting a fuckboat.”

Do you not realize the rich-guy trajectory you’re on? You started on guitars, and then the watches, and the cars, and now you have to buy a fuckboat.

“Stop it. I’m not getting a fuck boat.”


“Goddammit, he got a fuckboat, didn’t he?”

Oh, yeah.

“Jesus. Hello?”


“Don’t call me that.”

“I bought a fuckboat! You paid for it, but I bought it, so we each own half of it.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“We’re gonna make money on this deal renting it out when we’re not using it, but we’re gonna use it so much! It’s great, man. Y’know what you do on a fuckboat?”


“Fuck! So much fucking. I was sticking myself in nooks and crannies, man. It’s just non-stop from the moment you get onboard, and it’s classy, too. Captain pipes you aboard, real nice. You can fuck the captain if you want.”

“I don’t want to fuck the captain, Benj.”

“He can fuck you, too. Don’t get to be the captain of a fuckboat without doing some heavy fucking. Captain Harvoldson. Big guy with a beard. That guy fucks.”

“A captain came with it? How big is this thing?”

“Not huge. But, you know, it’s not a Sunfish from summer camp.”

“How big is the boat I just paid for, Benjy?”

“Not enormous. 90 meters.”

“I have no idea how big that is.”

“Not big.”



“How big is 90 meters?”

“300 feet.”

“Thank you, Siri.”

“I love you, John Mayer.

“Wait, did your Siri just tell you she loved you?”

“Yes. Celebrities have a different Siri. Don’t worry about it. 300 feet long? Why would I need that? Jesus, how much did it cost?”

“I have no idea.”

“How could you not know what it cost?”

“I bought it in Bitcoin. What we paid is kinda fluctuating right now. We may have gotten a really good deal. Or not. I’m gonna be honest with you–”

“You don’t totally understand Bitcoin?”

“–I don’t totally…there you go.”

“No one does. Benjy, why did you buy me a floating tub of syphilis the size of a mall?”

“That’s not the question. The question is: why didn’t I do it sooner? I cannot overstate how spectacular the fucking is. Something about the sea air and the motion of the boat. Opens up your sinuses. And your butthole. Tons of butt play on the fuckboat.”


“On the fuckboat, the butthole is seen as an equivalent genital. That’s inclusion, buddy. That’s the progressive future we’re working towards.”


“The butthole must have a seat at the table.”

“Buddy, you’re gonna love it. 300 feet of fuck.”

“I have a question.”


“Whom are we fucking, Benjy?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Everybody’s hot. Very hot. Top shelf for both genders and also individuals who are flowing back and forth between. All kinds of everything. But hot.”


“And into it.”


“If you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“I mean fucking.”

“Benjy, where did these hot people come from?”

“All over the place. There’s every race and a lot of folks, you don’t know what the hell they are. Lot of accents, too. Sometimes, they yell at you in a foreign language while you’re fucking, and that’s all right by me. I like that.”

“I mean: why are they on the fuckboat? Are they being paid?”

“Only in sexual satisfaction.”

“Ew. So…they’re, like, party people?”

“Not really.”

“Benjy, who’s on the fuckboat?”

“They’re called veeslafs. You know what a golem is, right? Make ’em out of clay, stick a prayer in ’em, they come to life?”


“These are like golems, but made out of flesh.”




“Here’s the thing–”

“This won’t be good.”

“–when I tell you, you’re gonna be upset, but when I explain the reasoning behind it, you’ll understand. Okay?”


“The flesh comes from children.”


“You didn’t let me finish! I said I would explain!”

“Okay. Explain.”

“Not the good kids. Just the uggos and dummies. And fat kids. Not to fat shame or anything, but it’s just more efficient. Ten skinny kids or five fat ones: what’s easier? Fuckboat’s about smooth sailing through the water, buddy. That ethos applies everywhere.”

“Benjy, who’s harvesting these children to make sex zombies?”

“Oh, it’s not like that. The boat just erases a kid in Johannesburg or Rome or wherever and zipzops the flesh to itself by saying that it happened. Oh, also: the boat is sentient and versed in postmodernism and literary magick.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Who the hell did you buy this from?”

“Y’know how I can die and come right back to life?”


“Well, you meet some interesting people like that. I’m not the only one who can do that. It’s a whole thing.”

“Get rid of it.”

“You haven’t even fucked on it yet!”

“Get rid of the boat, Benjy!”

“I don’t know, man. Boat’s pretty sweet.”

“Hey, Garcia.”

“Big Jer–”

“Don’t call me that.”

“–I don’t know if we’ve met. I’m Benjy Eisen. How you doing on managers?”

“I already got two or three, man.”


  1. Great shot of Mt.Tam in the background.

  2. Luther Von Baconson

    December 14, 2017 at 12:44 pm

    as long as the Halfcock covers his kidneys. also also, perhaps that nice lady is contemplating a cuddlefest with Jer? maybe intrigued by Stentorian Snores?

  3. Mean, Green, Devil Eating Machine

    December 15, 2017 at 11:44 am

    The ride out to the dive site can be a good time for rest and recollection.

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