Thoughts On The Dead

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

The Mickey Never Stopped

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Hey, Mickey. Whatcha doing?

“I have no idea.”

Where are you?

“I have no idea.”

Give it a try.

“Idaho?”

Probably not.

“My own private Idaho?”

Certainly not.

“Am I onstage?”

Do you mean that in the sense that all the world’s a stage?

“No.”

Then, no.

“What if I did?”

Then, yes. Are you drunk?

“Do you mean that in the sense that all the world’s a drunk?”

That makes no sense.

“Then, yes.”

You need to cut back, buddy.

“Cut me some slack: I work three hours every three days. And, you know: I only work for twenty minutes out of those three hours. I’m bored.”

Take up a hobby.

“I did. Drinking.”

It’s no good for you. What about skank? You and Billy could cruise the hotel hallways for skank like the old days.

“Oh, no skank for me. I’m dating Cher.”

No, you’re not. That’s Billy. And he’s not dating Cher, either.

“I’m pretty sure that I’m dating Cher.”

NO ONE’S DATING CHER.

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