Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: taylor swift (page 2 of 2)

Bad Blood, Worse Idea

You can stream Ryan Adams’ new record, which is a track-for-track cover of Taylor Swift’s 1989, today; I’m going to get to it just as soon as I finish streaming the Dead’s box set.

So…February? March?

To be safe, let’s call it never.

This Year’s Model

john mayer douche clothesWhy are you wearing all of your clothes at once?

“I’m a cowboy.”

No, you can’t think you’re a cowboy. Bobby thinks he’s a cowboy. That’s his thing.

“Wow, man: what a hater you are. Not even gonna congratulate me?”

Did you buy a new watch?

“On the gig.”

Good for you. You practicing?

“Oh, yeah. Nothing but. Listening to shows and playing guitar and reading Hitler’s speeches.”

Sure. What?

“It is worth learning German. Lot of nuance in his arguments that just get boiled down to “the Jews did it.'”

This is weird stuff coming from you, John Mayer.

“It is weird that in this actual interview you’re doing with me, rock and comedy’s John Mayer, I’m expressing these kind of fringe and offensive opnions, but: there you go. Also: Team Cosby.”

This is so strange, you must admit.

“I also must admit to drifting from town to town in the suburban summer nights, hopping fences and shitting in pools.”

You monster! Poor children need public pools!

“I need to do it! For my boners!”

Wait. You mean–

“Yes: John Mayer can only achieve an erection by taking a dump in someone else’s pool. Preferably off the diving board, but I’m not picky.”

Does Katy know about this?

“Oh, yeah. She’s into pool-play now.”

Ew.

“She hates that Taylor Swift, y’know.”

I heard.

“I banged that Taylor Swift, y’know.”

Yes.

“Fucked her so hard a song popped out.”

Wow.

“You wanna see my Confederate Flag tattoo? The stars are swastikas.”

OKAY. That’s enough.

Aw.

Leave Nothing For The Taylor

It’s enough with the Taylor Swift already: every song centers around her “brand;” they’re all about the travails of being an incredibly attractive white lady who enjoys (but is bad at) dating.

Can you imagine if the Dead did that? If every one of their songs were a drug-soaked mash-up of Americana and Jesus parables? Can you imagine?

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