Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
“Rando Disagreement?”
No, Dave–
“David.”
–it’s a Rando War.
“We don’t get that aggressive with our randos in Canada.”
What’s with the beer?
“I’m at the Dogfish Brewery. Very generous folks down here. I’m on my fifth or sixth bag of suds, eh?”
You’re not driving, are you?
“Yeah, but it’s a rental.”
That’s fine.
In honor of all our Presidents.
Hey, Bobby. Hair looks perfect.
“Thinking about stopping at Trader Vic’s later.”
You’re a good dad, man.
“Oh, yeah. Earning some points here. Feet are killing me.”
Well, you’re wearing shoes.
“Not optimal. Tried my best to find patent leather sandals, but it turns out that’s not a thing.”
Anything’s a thing if you pay a cobbler enough.
“Yeah, sure.”
What’s in Monet’s clutch?
“Garcia’s stash.”
Still?
Amos Moses was married to Polk Salad Annie, wasn’t he?
You just need to believe in people.
Back when we were young
(and all alive)
I made you a promise.
What was it?
I cannot recall the words.
Hum a few bars and I’ll fake it.
Hum a few bars and I’ll fake it ’til the end of time.
Hey, Mickey. Where’d you get the mustache?
“Yoinked it from Zappa.”
The timbales?
“Yoinked ’em from Tito Puente.”
No one yoinks like Mickey Hart.
“Got that straight.”
All the best songs are about trying to get home to your baby.
We’ll spend all the money that the government doesn’t take.
Forget “Remember when the President was charming?”
Forget “Remember when the President could hold an impromptu conversation with a rando without it getting weird?”
Forget “Remember when the President was fuckable?”
Forget “Remember when the President could talk to children like a human?”
Forget all that shit.
Remember when the President could walk a mile without a golf cart?
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