Thoughts On The Dead

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

Six Appeal

band 88 bw bobby rose

Breaking with tradition and in honor of our Muslim readers, who will–in accordance with the will of Allah–spend the next month in Ramada Inns all over the world, we shall go right to left.

  • Brent has been drinking.
  • Bobby’s just straight-up lost his fucking mind. Is he on The Bachelor?
  • That monogram on the satin jacket with the elastic cuffs and waist is the best part about the satin jacket, but the stripes on the elastic cuffs and waist finishes a strong second.
  • Garcia and Billy are there, but I want to talk about Bobby some more. What’s the message? Is the Dead as a whole offering their fans a rose? Does the rose symbolize something? If so, is that something the Nipples of Eternity. (Long story short: they built the Wall of Sound a companion like in Bride of Frankenstein and named it the Nipples of Eternity and the initial meeting went poorly. Much longer story short: Chernobyl was the cover story.)
  • “Hi, I’m rock and roll’s Bob Weir and I present to you a rose. Pulsing with scent and luster but covered with thorns, the rose is captivating to look at, but dangerous to touch, much like the women most of us seem to prefer.”
  • Mickey is a little teapot.


  1. I wonder which one was a military drummer. Settle down homey.


    Brent: “Aliens Sucked Brains from My Cranium!”
    Bob: “How Could I Know How Young She was?”
    Phil : “Too High to Button This Jacket Correctly”
    Jerry: “Amnesia Victim Found In Marin County”
    Bill: “Drummer Will Author Tell All in 21st Century”

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