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I Skin Phish


This guy who moved up stairs from me is a Phish fan.

You know how those types are. The want to converse about absolutely nothing except Phish.

He spends his days either

A) Listening to Phish.

B) Listening to Phish and jamming along to it.

C) Getting stoned while listening to Phish and jamming along to it

D) Inviting me up to get stoned and jam with him to Phish.

I've been avoiding this guy like a swarm of bees carring the herpes virus.

I mean he's a nice guy and all, and I do enjoy jamming with people- but as you might of guessed from my description above, or perhaps you know someone personally, a loved one perhaps that's suffering from the same affliction. People like this just aren't cool to hang out with. They're so wrapped up in this shitty little band that they tend to lack in other subjects to talk about.

No matter what you talk about with this guy, it's all gonna' come back to Phish.

I understand him a bit because as a teenager I was like that with Syd barrett.

If you started talking about photosysthesis, I could somehow relate that to Syd.

Same thing with this guy. Except that he is far from being a teenager. He's married, has a nice computer job, wear's a dashing looking suit, carries a handsome briefcase....

And is obsessed with a bunch of Dirtballs from Vermont.

I've spoken to the guy a bunch of times, usually him coming down and asking if I want to jam.

I usually reply like "Shit. You mean now? OH MY GAWD, I want to SO bad, it's just that tonight I was planning on sawing off my foot and welding it back together. Fuck, man. I really wish I could. I'd totally ditch the sawing off the foot thing, it's just that I rented the welding equipment and I only have it tonight....

And he'd reply.

"Well we should do it soon then"

And I'd say...

For the love of all things pure and good in this world, YES! Yes we do!

And he says...

"Hey do you like Phish?"

And I says...

"You mean those filthy Vermont stoners that play, scientificlly, thee most annoying music one's ever heard in their life? DO I!!! Are you kidding me, I want to be just like them!"

And he says...

"Well let's pick a definate time when we can get together. What's a good day for you ?"

And I says...

"Ummm, let me ask my roommate and I'll get back to you..."

Which leads me to why I'm writing this in the first place.

You see, John, my roomie, isn't as knowledgable on how these neo-hippies are.

He's all for jamming with the guy. Sure, he understands that Phish is for those of us with extra chromasones. But he figures he can probably do some jazz stuff with him.


John went up today. After about 5 hours of being up there, he came down white as a ghost.

He looked like he's been through a war.

Then he tells me of the horror he's just experienced.

First thing he does when they get up there.....other then smoke pot of put a Phish DVD.


(Editor's note: AAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!)

He offfer him pot a total of FOUR times!

"You want to smoke some pot?"

20 minutes later....

"You sure you don't want to smoke some pot?"

20 minutes later....

"You want a hit of pot?"

20 minutes later....

"You sure you don't just want a hit of pot?"

Now, why is it that when someone has a bad habit, whatever it may be, they're insistant on rubbing it off on other people?

I mean, I don't ask my guests if they'd like a glass of carrot juice over and over and over.

I don't press somebody into reading a book that I really enjoyed.

"Hey you wanna' read this book? Are you sure? How about a couple of pages......"

That never happens. Peer pressure never exists too much with the possitive stuff, does it?

Anyways after the three hour movie, something the guy has seen probably a zillion times, they begin to jam.

The set up there stuff, tune up, and right when they're ready to play...............he walks over and throws on some Phish.

Comes back, and starts soloing over the music.

John suggests they shut the music off and just jam without Phish being their backup band.

The guy gets this look on his face like....OH MY GOD! I've never done that before! What'll I do?

So he shuts the music off.

Smokes some more pot.

Asks John again if he'd like some.

Comes back and joins John like a baby bird just thrown out of it's nest.

John actually said once they started playing it was rather cool. He is a talented guitar player, and knew a lot of jazz standards.

But he was obviously uncomfortable, and before it ended, he insisted on throwing on some Phish and having a duo guitar solo jam over it.

How romantic.

Anyways, we're now in the process of hippy-proofing our home.

We're blasting the Sex Pistols 24/7.

I suggest you do the same. This could happen to you.


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