Here’s something TotD learned today: Ornette Coleman has not been dead for ten years. Live and learn. (Well, not Ornette: he’s done learning.)
Ornette Coleman played with the Dead on 2/23/93 in Oakland and later said they stunk, so I think we can put OC in the “observant” category. (The Space>TOO he sits in on is scary-good, though.)
Mr. Coleman is not to be confused with his cousin, Ornate Coleman, who was very fancy.
Dammit.
“We having a shorts-off?”
No, we are–
“Garcia wants a shorts-off, Bobby’s coming at him with denim, and Bobby’s coming at him with fringe.”
There is no such thing as a shorts-off and stop referring to yourself in the third person.
“Second person?”
Cannot refer to yourself in the second person.
“I could refer to you in the second person.”
Yeah, you could, but I couldn’t.
…
“What?”
It is the slight halo of white cotton fringe around the (scandalously high) hem that makes those shorts the champions of the world, Bobby.
“I find them to be evocative.”
They bespeak a teasing innocence.
“Mm. Who’s really the teen fox? She or I?”
Deep.
…
Killer bis and tris, bro.
“Get ready to be uncomfortably aware of your Semitism, cuz Bobby’s taking you to the gun show!”
Dammit.
This pass served as a sobering reminder that Bring Your Infant To Work Day was not to be repeated.
The only Marxists I’ve ever trusted…
“Garcia! Garcia!” GARCIA!”
“What is it, Bobby?”
“They look like boobies.”
…
“Yeah, Bob: they look like boobies.”
The Dead used to masturbate together. Not just in the old days, when Pig would whip out his thick, greasy hog and announce, “Let’s put our hands IN our pockets!” No, it was a constant throughout the years. Lineup changes, health problems, financial chaos? The music got them through, along with regular sessions of group masturbation. It was men being men together and, occasionally, all over each other. And what could be wrong with that?
Oh, hell, I can’t hold on to this horrible knowledge any longer: the Dead were gay. Very, very gay. And much like metal fans with Rob Halford and Ronnie James Dio, we had absolutely no idea. This the kind of thing that Dead.net won’t tell you, my friends! LOOK AT THE EVIDENCES!
Do I even have to make the joke about Garcia being a bear and Bobby being a twink and Phil being the guy at the orgy still wearing socks?
Ramrod. His name was Ramrod. No matter where on the planet you are, if you get into a taxi and say “Ramrod,” you will be taken to a gay bar.
Mustaches, mustaches, mustaches.
(Okay, this has to stop: I’m just taking out some frustration on you, Fellow Enthusiast. Sitting here listening to 2/23/93–Ornette Coleman sits in for the last half of the second set and they open up with a Mardi Gras-infused Iko Iko and IT’S AWESOME except I’m breaking rules all over the place: a Vince? Listening to a Vince, even with Ornette Coleman? PLUS, I’m listening to drums->space and IT’S AWESOME, TOO and now I’m worried that I’m turning into one of those drums->space people and the only step after that is quibbling about different recordings of the same show. That’s no life at all.)
(Oh, right: the Dead are, of course, not actually practicing homosexuals, which, of course, would be perfectly fine and would probably be real good for Mickey. He needs some masculine energy around. Not Billy, though. Let’s face it, Billy was gonna be punching anyone you placed in front of him. Also, I don’t think Dio’s gay: like always, I will be sticking to my ban on research of any sort. If Dio were gay, though, he’d be roaming around the fantasy world of Homoslavia with his giant penis sword, riding on top of a penis dragon, and penising everything around him with his penis. Penis.)
Thoughts on the Dead 