but the chinese officials wont let them play “Brown Sugar,” “Honky Tonk Woman,” “Beast of Burden,” or “Let’s Spend the Night Together.’

there was a time where i would listen to beast of burden every day for maybe a year.

aint i rich enough?

aint i tough enough?

if i get to go to heaven i want to work for the newspaper up there and i want to ask these chinese officials what they really think will happen if the kids in china hear brown sugar? and because it’s heaven none of the bs mumbo jumbo will be allowed to come out of their mouths, just the truth, from their hearts.

“we’re afraid everyone will want to have sex,” im guessing they’ll say.

but doesnt everyone want to have sex anyway? i’ll ask.

“ever hear chinese music?” they’ll say back and i’ll clink my shot of rum with his shot of jd and we’ll drink and i’ll file my story.

stories are shorter in Heaven, im thinking. super short. super good and super short. lots of awesome, short, exclusive interviews with famous people and people who should have been famous.

i bet in heaven they play a lot of stones’ songs.

thats a question that i would like to ask these chinese officials, do you think they play Beast of Burden in heaven?

i have no problem with China. i just want to figure out their deal.

banning particular songs in the year 2003 sung by 60 year old men?

obviously they have never heard the lyrics of “start me up.”

moxie

please discuss

nononono nooo.

you dont understand.

that whole fucking thing is a bomb.

that bombs the bomb.

its the mother of all bombs.

i said why did you paint it orange?

he said, because pink looked gay.

he said, because if youre going to get blown to shit by the mother of all bombs, you really deserve to see it coming.

he asked me if i was impressed.

i said i wasnt impressed. i said anyone can make a bigass bomb.

i could make a big ass hamburger with 100 pounds of meat but who cares.

he said its easy being a hippie when you have the marines doing your dirty work, isnt it.

i said, your daddy bombed that sonofabitch so much they invented the term carpet bomb in it’s wake, and that bastard is not only alive, he looks not only better than your poppa and your momma, but in a fist fight i would bet on him over you.

he said, dude, 9/11.

so i gave him the evil eye.

thats quite a stretch. most of those dudes were saudi, not iraqi.

so then he gave me the evil eye.

some young country bullshit pop music was playing on the boombox in the corner.

two men in suits stared quietly ahead but heard every word.

the president was eating cashews like he never ate anything so good, and the phone on the desk flashed hysterically but nobody seemed to care too much.

i really need you to get behind this project, tony

and by project he meant bomb and you dont make a bomb like that unless youd like to see it go off.

finally he decided to pick up the phone and there werent any magazines around and the tv was tuned to the stock market channel, apparently the president enjoys horror, so i decided to f with the secret service.

there was a black one and a white one.

i asked the white one, is that guy allowed to talk?

they stood there totally wanting to not only say something, but then they wanted to kick my ass, but they had to stand there like housebroken dogs.

nothing is fair.

but bombs that big and fucked up questions while youre trying to work are particularilly unnecessary.

and anyway, saddam is a taurus.

the bull.

the president said, whats a taurus.

i said, someone who you cant force to do shit, not even with the biggest boom stick on the playground.

and bro looked like he was gonna cry and whispered something about it costing pretty much everything.

screaming into the wind + vihm + pshrink

i said no.

he said two cars, then.

and for some reason it’s easier to say no to two things than one thing

even though it shouldnt.

if he had offered ten cars that woulda been really easy to turn down because where would you park all those cars?

he said, what about a sailboat.

i said, what about two sailboats?

he said, deal!

i said, no i was only asking.

a voice on the phone said that they would give me a corvette, a cashier’s check for ten thousand dollars, and one presidential pardon, but that would be their final offer.

i said, legalize pot and i’ll do it.

then they called me a bunch of names.

i said, legalize pot and i’ll make you two pro war photo essays.

then they called my dear mother a bunch of names.

so i said, okay, what about if i made you ten pro war photo essays, then will you legalize pot?

they said, what about for medicinal use?

i said, deal!

they said, no, they were only seeking clarification.

i dont smoke the pot but i dont think that those who do are seeking clarification.

i bought five boxes of girl scout cookies from a girl scout today.

she said they were going to take the money and go on a ski trip because many of the girls had never seen snow.

i asked her if she had ever seen the snow and she had to look up at her mother for the answer.

and now you know why they dont let the girl scouts bake the cookies any more.

this guy just got his permit + xrated puma ads