Thoughts On The Dead

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

Up, Up In The Air In My Acceptable Balloon


“I’m right here, sir. No need to yell.”

“No need to backhand you, either.”




“See what I did there?”

“Comedic misdirection. Delightful, sir. Well worth the slap.”

“Oh, grow a pair, Jenkins. Now, let’s get to the poster. Shoreline!”

“Shoreline, sir.”




“No, sir. Shoreline.”


“Now you’re just saying landlocked places, sir.”

“No Kabul shows this tour?”

“Maybe next summer.”

“Shame. Excellent Shakedown in Kabul. You can get anything.”

“I’d imagine, sir.”

“Literally anything. Weapons, slaves, drugs, veggie burritos. And no Nitrous Mafia.”

“You can’t get nitrous? I thought you said you could get anything.”

“Oh, you can get nitrous. I said there’s no Nitrous Mafia. Taliban executed them a few years ago.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“And their families.”

“Also okay with that. Sir, we need to get back on track.”


“Yes, sir.”

“I have an idea for this one. Old-timey.”

“Okay. Any specific movement or style, sir?”

“Nope! Old-timey!”

“Yes, sir. Bear, turtle, or skeleton?”

“Bring me my decision-making darts, Jenkins.”

“Yes, sir.”



“Turtle it is, sir. Any thoughts on the font?”


“Yes, sir. You do know there are two shows, right? Shouldn’t we make two posters?”


“One poster it is, sir.”

“Quick learner, Jenkins.”

“I try, sir.”


  1. They put a banjo on a non-Garcia Dead poster . . .

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