Julius Caesar, etc.
Occasionally when a television show or a newspaper columnist or whatever is taking a week off, they will air or print a "classic" episode (also known as a rerun). Since you can read everything that has ever been printed here, I thought I'd do something a little different. New shows will be airing soon, but in the meantime, sit back, drink some whiskey (or your alcoholic beverage of choice, although I still recommend whiskey), and do whatever it is you do whilst reading your computer screen.
March 15, 2067 -- Shea Stadium, Queens
It is always nice to play a local show, it seems like we're always playing various backwaters of the solar system these days. The money is good, but I miss my friends. Plus, I get to take my jetpack to the show, my preferred method of travel. Membership does have its privileges, whatever that means. Anyway, Kevin just finished recovering from some extensive plastic surgery (we insist on looking our best, so he got some liposuction, a nosejob, and a penile implant [for the ladies, we do love the ladies]), so it has been a little while since we've played. The hometown crowd was, as always, the best. Chris Fuller, after spending the last 63 years claiming he was going to see us play (and failing to do so every single time), finally turned up. I made sure he got shitty seats, as it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. It sort of made me nostalgic for the days when we got really wasted for our shows, Kevin and I made pretty righteous asses of ourselves quite a bit in those days. But, I mean, after going through rehab and whatnot, you sort of have to keep sober. Plus, I am pregnant again, after all. Anyway, if you weren't there, you probably watched it on television, so I'm not going to recount our setlist or how killer we were. I'm getting a little older now and playing for four hours straight is getting a little tiresome, but people just can't seem to get enough. I guess when you're president of the galaxy, people watch your band. I don't know, I've been president for so long that I can barely remember what it was like when we played places like Tommy's Tavern. Plus, we were pretty wasted, remember? Anyway, I'm not really sure what the point is of this blog anymore, everything we do is pretty well documented so I'm not sure what more I have to say about it. I know everyone wants to hear it from the horse's mouth, but I don't even write the damn things anymore. Right now I'm lying down and being fed the occasional grape by one of my many mistresses whilst dictating to an intern. I mean, it just doesn't have the same sense of immediacy anymore. I still can't tell if I sold out or not. I mean, was I ever really all that innocent, all that pure? I fell from grace long before this band ever started, for better or worse. What more is there to say? Are we just going through the motions? I mean, we're still the finest band in the land, but does it matter anymore? What happened to our passion, our humanity? Is there any reason to beware the Ides of March, anymore?
March 15, 2067 -- Shea Stadium, Queens
It is always nice to play a local show, it seems like we're always playing various backwaters of the solar system these days. The money is good, but I miss my friends. Plus, I get to take my jetpack to the show, my preferred method of travel. Membership does have its privileges, whatever that means. Anyway, Kevin just finished recovering from some extensive plastic surgery (we insist on looking our best, so he got some liposuction, a nosejob, and a penile implant [for the ladies, we do love the ladies]), so it has been a little while since we've played. The hometown crowd was, as always, the best. Chris Fuller, after spending the last 63 years claiming he was going to see us play (and failing to do so every single time), finally turned up. I made sure he got shitty seats, as it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. It sort of made me nostalgic for the days when we got really wasted for our shows, Kevin and I made pretty righteous asses of ourselves quite a bit in those days. But, I mean, after going through rehab and whatnot, you sort of have to keep sober. Plus, I am pregnant again, after all. Anyway, if you weren't there, you probably watched it on television, so I'm not going to recount our setlist or how killer we were. I'm getting a little older now and playing for four hours straight is getting a little tiresome, but people just can't seem to get enough. I guess when you're president of the galaxy, people watch your band. I don't know, I've been president for so long that I can barely remember what it was like when we played places like Tommy's Tavern. Plus, we were pretty wasted, remember? Anyway, I'm not really sure what the point is of this blog anymore, everything we do is pretty well documented so I'm not sure what more I have to say about it. I know everyone wants to hear it from the horse's mouth, but I don't even write the damn things anymore. Right now I'm lying down and being fed the occasional grape by one of my many mistresses whilst dictating to an intern. I mean, it just doesn't have the same sense of immediacy anymore. I still can't tell if I sold out or not. I mean, was I ever really all that innocent, all that pure? I fell from grace long before this band ever started, for better or worse. What more is there to say? Are we just going through the motions? I mean, we're still the finest band in the land, but does it matter anymore? What happened to our passion, our humanity? Is there any reason to beware the Ides of March, anymore?
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