Thoughts On The Dead

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

Shit Grateful Deads Say

  • I spent a million dollars on this thing.
  • Hey, Healy? Could you turn me up a bit? I can’t hear myself over Lesh and Weir.
  • You smell like Heineken; let me have your liver.
  • Fuckin’ Weir.
  • Fuckin’ drummers.
  • FUCKIN’ DONNA!
  • Healy, if I still can’t hear my bass 60 seconds from now, I’m going to stab you. I will physically stab you with an actual knife. You need to bring it up at 800 cycles…that’s it: Ramrod, bring me my knife.
  • No, Ramrod: to ME my blade.
  • Bring everyone their knives, Ramrod!
  • Would someone pull Mickey off that cop? Just grab him, but be careful…OOH, I should have told you that Billy was probably gonna punch you in the dick. He does that and other human beings seem to just accept it.
  • Jerry, get out of the bathroom.
  • No, not “I need a million dollars.” I told you that I have already spent a million dollars and now the million dollars is gone forever and we will almost certainly never get one cent of it back. What did I do with it? Stop hassling me, man.
  • Yes, of course  it seems perfectly logical that we allow the crew to have a full vote on everything we do. How can that be anything but a sound business practice that will, in no way, end in numerous deaths. Why do you ask?
  • Who the fuck bought a harpsichord?
  • Yeah, they call me Captain Billy; I’m kinda the captain. Would you like to touch the captain in a sensual way? Come! Let Captain Billy practice his sensuality all over you, my zaftig nightchild!
  • Soooo…you should just assume that every single thing you see  is just absolutely drenched with acid. All of it, even on the insides of things in defiance of all laws of nature. We encourage a culture in which is acceptable to drug one another at any time with any amount of any drug. Some workplaces have fantasy football; we have chosen to amuse ourselves through poisoning one another. We have almost definitely poisoned you already.  Enjoy your backstage passes, Congressmen.
  • Healy, can you–
  • –Healy, you turn him up and I’m gonna buy, raise, and train attack dogs–like Michael Vick-type shit–and then I will set them on you and fucking LAUGH.
  • –you’re just, like, mean.

1 Comment

  1. Good job…

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