Thoughts On The Dead

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

Two Mustaches, No Waiting

billy mickey double mustcha

Just outside of Evanston, Illinois, Billy and Mickey’s mustaches snuck out of the hotel before dawn, put on disguises (fake beards,) robbed a Gulp and Go, stole a cop car, and made for Mexico.

When he awoke the next morning to find himself sans ‘stache, Mickey accused the stone-cold teen fox of stealing it and selling it for a handful of magic beans. The fox, while in her teens, was pretty bright, so she said, “What?” and then Mickey reiterated his claims, so the fox cleverly mentioned that the band/groupie complimentary breakfast was about to be opened to the road crew, and Mickey fairly ran down the stairs to get to the omelette bar.

The teen fox patted the pocket of her jean shorts to make sure the magic beans were still there, and went out the fire door into a chilly Midwestern morning.

Billy, though, has always brought extra mustaches on tour, so he wasn’t really bothered.



  1. Once or twice a year I let my beard grow too long and funky and end up shaving it off in disgust. I leave a mustache in place for as long as I can stand it, usually no more a then couple hours until I catch myself in the mirror and realize that I look like a cop. Not a good cop, but one of those dimwit cops who eat too many cheeseburgers and bang hookers in their cruiser in exchange for not arresting them. One time I kept it long enough to take it to the office on Monday, and everyone treated me like I’d taken my dick out at the meeting.

    Anyway: I admire the conviction with which these guys wear theirs.

  2. “M” was a moustache and traded for beans…”

    -Variation on “Tom Thumb’s Alphabet” (England, 18th century)

    I too have been guilty of allowing myself to wander into the Land Of The Wooly Face a few times. Mostly in Alaska, where nobody gave a crap how you looked, just whether or not you smelled bad or were plain stupid around bears.

    • I lucked into a TDY to Alaska while in the Air Force. A highlight for me, and almost worth… well, being in the Air Force.

      • I was a serial fish murderer, cash buyer and mortician.


        I missed the whole “in the service” thing. Too busy being an L.D.

        Besides, I’d already read Tuli Kupferberg’s “1,001 Ways To Avoid The Draft.” I really liked the one where you show up for your induction physical high on acid and your pants filled with Jello.

        I would have been a really horrible soldier anyway…

      • Eielson, in Fairbanks I think? This was ~15 years ago so no draft to consider, thankfully. A good friend went back later to do the same thing, working for a while on a fishing boat…

        I knew a lot of horrible soldiers, me included. I didn’t belong there at all – I dropped out of college the first time around and was too prideful to work at the gas station.

      • My Pops, a career Navy musician (and a damned good reed player) did a few hitches on Carriers out in the Gulf of Tonkin, doing AFR shows and doo-dah gigs for Admirals arriving, etc.. He came back after his 3rd round and said something like: “Kid, we’re not in this one to win. Canada’s real nice this time of year.”

        I was pretty happy being a “House Mouse” L.D. in SoCal at the time and quite fond of my waist length hair that possessed magical powers over Chiquitas so, it was a no-go from the onset.

        I hear the surfing in ‘Nam wasn’t nearly as good as Bob Duval (or “Lance”) said it was.

  3. Back to the moustache(s), eh?

    It was rumored that Billy’s mustache could aid in weather prediction, much like the “Wooly Booger” caterpillar. There may or may not be any truth to that yarn. Mickey’s, on the other hand, dripped off in the shower and was in need of constant cosmetic refurbishment.

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