Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: george rr martin

It’s A Thousand Pages, Give Or Take A Few

Why are you wearing all-black. George R. R. Martin? You’re at a beach resort.

“Ah, my good sir! You’ve noted my ebon garb! It represents House Marghalis, who are–”

NO. No. No, no, no. I don’t care. Stop talking.

“You shan’t upbraid me with the all-too-cliched ‘Get back to writing, George,” shall you?”

Shit, no.

“A gentleman!”

It’s not that. I just don’t give a shit about The Dragonfucker Chronicles or whatever it is you write.

“You’re quite rude, you know.”

Shut up and go buy a bathing suit.

Game Of Seats

georgerrmartinOkay, jackass: let’s go.

“Excuse me?”

Get up, Garcia. What did I tell you about that goddamn Time Sheath?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.”

Nice try: c’mon.

“My name is George R.R. Martin.”

Are you even trying? That’s clearly a fake name.

“Sir, I am best-selling author.”


“I feel what I do transcends genre, but I supposePUT THE TASER AWAY.”


I told you I had no sense of humor about this particular tomfoolery. Now come help me find Brent: he’s in one of those bear suits.

“Please call an ambulance.”

Walk it off.

“I could barely walk before you tazed me: I’m not a particularly robust man.”

You never were.

“Again: I’m not Jerry Garcia.”

That’s what Garcia would say.

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