Hey, Chalice Sauvignon.
You like the Dead?
“I like the Dead.”
Name every show on the ’82 Spring Tour.
“Don’t you usually bitch about gatekeeping bullshit like that?”
Yes. I’m sorry. You were at the Farewell Shoes, too.
Why are you at Sundance?
“Promoting a movie. You’d hate it. Nothing blows up.”
Is there kung fu?
“Not even a little bit. It isn’t even mentioned, let alone practiced.”
“There are no martial arts whatsoever.”
–karate? Okay, just checking. Yeah, I won’t see that.
“We all have our own tastes.”
We do. Now, seriously: name all the Spring Tour shows from 1982 or I’m going to declare you a poseur.
“Nice meeting you.”
Say hi to Harmony Korine for me.
Attention New York Enthusiasts: do you wanna hear some news, or should I just go fuck myself?
God, that’s an old joke.
The good bits and the new material go in the big posts.
Sure. So what’s the news?
Dead & Co will not be at CitiField.
What? So who will be?
Dead & WHOA-OHH-AHHHHH-AHAHH-YEEEEEEEAAAAAHH!
Mrs. Donna Jean?
You didn’t hear it from me.
Who’d I hear it from, then?
No idea. But do you know that This Is All A Dream We Dreamed, the spectacular oral history of the Dead co-written by the great David Gans, is only $22.99 from Amazon?
It’s a good deal.
I’d say to take off your helmets, but Gordie didn’t wear one. Hope the Maple Leaf is at half-staff today.
Like an idiot, I thought that yesterday’s Starbucks Day was the low point, and that things could get no more irritating. I forgot that TED Talks existed.
Also: I can’t believe that Starbucks’ Social Media Contentifizers (Meme Squad) didn’t take the opportunity to tweet out a pic of a Starbucks cup with “Jerry” written on the side in Sharpie.
Also also: “Youth@”.
“Yeah, you. Balloons. 3 for $10.”
“You want, I got.”
You’re selling balloons?
“Nitrous Mafia for life, yo.”
You are not in the Nitrous Mafia.
“Lost my Red Sox hat.”
Shut up, butterfly.
I hope you get eaten by a lizard.
Music, it can take you by the hand. Crush your fingers so you know who’s boss; let you know you’ve got a pardner in this weary world; press your palm to your chest to feel your heart beating and remind you you’re still alive.
Music, it can take you by the scruff. Drag you to water and make your ass drink; drag you to the bar and make your ass drink; drag you to God and make your ass drink.
It’ll leave scars just like your father; put you to bed just like your mother; tear little chunks off just like your first dead pet.
Music’ll fuck you up.
Dear Guy Selling These T-Shirts,
Holy shit, are you going to get sued. Imagine if Thor’s hammer were made out of lawyers: that’s what’s about to be rammed up your asshole. Prince’s crackhead half-sister who now controls the estate is going to own your house. Stop doing this thing.
I see where you got confused: there are two logos here, and one of them is halfway to public domain by now. You have to work real hard to get yourself a Cease & Desist for putting a Stealie on something. I’m a believer in copyright law and intellectual property belonging to its creators, but a non-hippie argument could be made that the Stealie belongs to all of us at this point.
But the logo you put inside the Stealie? That sumbitch belongs to one guy, and it doesn’t matter that he’s dead: he will come back to life just to sue you.
Don’t die on this hill, man.
ps The Stealie is pretty neat, though. Here’s a bigger version: