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

And A Friend I Love At Hand

“Weir, you know a little French. Why is everyone calling us pwa-loos?”

Les poilus. It, uh, means ‘the hairy guys.'”

“Just like back home, man.”

Plus ça change. Hey, Jer?”

“Yeah, man?”

“Seeing the world is fun and all, but it’s much better when you do it with your friends.”

“Don’t get sentimental on me.”

“Just saying. You hungry?”

“Weir, if you bring up Arthur fucking Treacher’s one more time, I’m gonna scream.”

“Paris is a very cosmopolitan city. There might be one.”

“There won’t even be a McDonald’s for seven more years, man. Let it go.”

“How about sushi?”

“Maybe. It’s 1972, man. We might have to stick to French food.”

“Then, uh, we’re off on a culinary adventure.”

2 Comments

  1. occidentalpoppy

    I love the woman looking back at Bob.

  2. Merkin

    Check out the photo accompanying Joe Smith’s obit in yesterday’s NYT. Looks like Weir is giving Smith the Bunny Ears treatment. Nothing like a little more mockery to go with your death notice

Leave a Reply