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

Tag: bob weir (Page 1 of 197)

Ace Of Bass

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Hanging out with my new buddy, Les Maddox.”

Half-right.

“Gregg Maddox.”

You went the wrong way.

“Les Nessman.”

That is not Les Nessman, Bobby.

“Then why is there tape around his desk?”

That is Les Claypool, Bobby. He plays bass.

“And how.”

Hell of a bassist.

“He does that thumpity-bap stuff. Gets all four fingers involved; thumb too. All kinds of wild noises emanate thereof. It’s a scene.”

The man’s got his own style.

“Yeah, I keep finding those kind of bass players. Him, Lesh, Wasserman…they don’t play the instrument correctly. And, uh, I always enjoyed that.”

You even played with Jaco Pastorius once.

“Oh, yeah. That fellow was something. I was thinking about asking him to join Ratdog.”

Why didn’t you?

“Caught him going through my wallet. And, uh, we were on stage at the time.”

Jaco had a lotta personal problems.

“Yuh-huh. Y’can’t have that on the bus.”

No.

It Was Fifty Years Ago Today…

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Losing a wrestling match, seems like.”

That is an enormous guitar.

“You need a permit for it in Mendocino County.”

Wow.

“So, uh, you still got Covid?”

Cancer.

“I knew it started with a C. But I know you’re a bather, so it probably wasn’t crotchrot.”

Crotch is fine.

“Common cold. That’s two C’s right there. Although, cancer and crotchrot both have two C’s, too.”

I do not have the common cold. In fact, what I have is rare and I currently have a fever.

“Lemme ask you a question: how much spirulina are you ingesting daily?”

None.

“Good. Stay the hell away from that crap. Superfood, my ass. Spent a long weekend on a Taos toilet after I tried that garbage.”

Avoid spirulina. Gotcha.

“Lemme ask you another question: Are you positive that you didn’t piss off a gypsy woman a few months ago?”

No such thing as a gypsy curse, Bobby.

“Sure there is. We’re discussing it right now. You even know how to spell it.”

I didn’t anger any gypsy women.

“Gotta be polite to ’em. I mean, you should be well-mannered with everyone you meet in your travels, but y’gotta give those ladies a wide berth. Deer, too.”

What?

“Deer’ll kick your ass. Bambi was a lie.”

I have no idea what we’re talking about anymore.

“Well, uh, whose fault is that?”

True.

 

Happy Halloweir

“…and, uh, the next morning, the teens found a hook stuck into the top of their car.”

What are you doing, Bobby?

“It’s Scary Story Season. So I lit up the ol’ campfire and started spinning some spooky yarns.”

You lit a campfire?

“I had Matt Busch do it. ”

Sure.

“He missed his calling. Could’ve been a great arsonist. Y’blink your eyes and boom: fire. But, uh, he only uses his powers for good.”

Matt’s an ethical man.

“And he cares about the environment. Won’t use a disposable lighter.”

Wow.

“Lotta fun at the campfire. We got Super S’mores.”

What are Super S’mores?

“Y’take s’mores-flavored Pop Tarts and use ’em as the bread in the sweetness sandwich. It’s gooey as all get out, but your mouth’ll thank you.”

Sounds delicious. What’s your favorite ghost story?

“I like the one where the call is coming from up your own ass. Y’know: you’re alone and the phone rings and the voice is all I’m gonna slice ya or whatever and so you call the police, and they trace the call and they’re like The call’s coming from your in your butt! Love that one.”

The call’s coming from in the house, Bobby.

“Yeah, sure. Your butt’s in the house, so the call’s technically coming from inside the house.”

No, it’s…forget it.

“Forget what?”

Don’t worry about it.

Frankie Says Relax; Bobby Says Vote

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Public service announcing. Everybody’s gotta vote this time ’round. Men, women, white, black, foreigners, babies…everybody.”

Foreigners and babies can’t vote.

“Inequality everywhere you look.”

Have you always voted?

“Oh, yeah. I believe in exercising my body and my franchise.”

What was your first Presidential election?

“That would be, uh, 1972. They had just lowered the voting age, so that was the first time I pulled the big lever of democracy.”

’72?

“Yup.”

Y’voted for Nixon, didn’t you?

“McGovern was a naif.”

Bob.

“And, uh, Nixon had a plan to get us out of Vietnam. I don’t remember if he ever shared that plan, but he said he had one.”

Okay. What about this go-round?

“Well, as you know: It’s a secret ballot. You close that curtain behind you and it’s just you and Sweet Momma America.”

That’s true.

“But, uh, between you and me and Mount Tamalpais: I’m going for the guy who hasn’t killed 200,000 people.”

Good call.

“There’s been elections where I was up in the air until November, but not this time.”

Easy choice to make.

“Everybody’s gotta get their vote in, because this motherfucker’ll be the death of us.

That’s some good public service, Bobby.

“You betcha.”

Bobbing Away

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Bicycling.”

Sure.

“Some folks like uni. And, uh, others prefer tri. But I like my cycling bi.”

What about bicycling do you like best?

“The shorts.”

I should have guessed.

“They’re made of a material called spandex. Space-age stuff. And, uh, they’re form-fitting. Whatever form you have, they’ll fit it. They’re a clingy short.”

A little weird you never wore those onstage.

“There was a meeting.”

Ah.

“And, you know, we don’t have a lot of those. But apparently everyone thought it was an all-hands-on-deck situation. Got a little contentious, too.”

Well, no one likes being told what to wear.

“Oh, it had nothing to do with that. Billy started biting people.”

He does that.

“How’s the Murder Heist going?”

I thought you would know?

“I’ve stepped back from an active position in that endeavor.”

You’re taking a Murder Heist Sabbatical? You can do that?

“You can do anything you want until someone stops you.”

True.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I gotta take this. It might be my Schwinn guy.”

You got a Schwinn guy?

“Big time.”

Huffy?

“Won’t return my calls.”

Dicks.

“Hang on.”

“Weir here.”

“HAIRY GARCIA! WE BEEN TRYIN’ T’ CALL YOU F’R DAYS!”

“We?”

“ME AN’ THE BANANA MAN. AH MAY HAVE ERRED IN ALLOWIN’ HIM T’ DO TH’ DIALIN’!”

“Probably beyond his capabilities, King.”

“NOTHIN’ IS IMPOSSIBLE WITH JESUS AN’ KARATE.”

“All right.”

“HAIRY GARCIA, TH’ MURDER HEIST DONE BEGUN RAMIFICATIONING ALL OVER TH’ PLACE.”

“The thing that always happens where reality spaghettifies and dinosaurs start eating people?”

“YEAH, TH’ USUAL PETERIN’-OUT!”

“The premise on this one was shaky as hell.”

“TH’ BOY’S GOT COLE SLAW F’R BRAINS, AN’ HE THOUGHT ‘MURDER HEIST’ WUZ A FUNNY PHRASE, AN’ THEN HE DIDN’T DO NO MORE THINKIN’.”

“The folks who read this site expect more.”

“LETDOWN AFTER LETDOWN, MAN.”

“HOW’S TH’ FAMILY?”

“Depends on what year this is.”

“UH-HUH.”

Heist In A Bucket

Aw, come on. The duck doesn’t need to be–

“He’s, uh, part of the Murder Heist.”

–part of the Murder Heist. This is not right, Bobby.

“He’s integral. No duck, no luck.”

Why have you time travelled to the Hell In A Bucket video?

“Well, you remember that last Revenger movie.”

Avengers.

“If you say so. They, uh, went back and visited themselves in order to defeat Anus.”

Thanos.

“Was that the purple guy’s name?”

Yes.

“Probably a better name for a super-villain than ‘Anus.'”

Correct.

“Although some anuses can be scary as all get-out.”

I suppose. Bobby, please stop jaunting through time to pull off a Murder Heist.

“Too late to stop now. It’s a lit-fuse situation.”

Okay. Can you at least tell me what the duck has to do with the plan?

“We’re going to be coming up on some 3D approximations of reality. But, uh, real realistic ones.”

Right. And?

“And ducks’ quacks don’t echo. So if we’re somewhere that we suspect of being composed of hard-light holograms, we just get have the duck quack at it a couple times.”

And?

“And, uh, problem solved.”

I’m ignoring that. Is that Billy?

“Yuh-huh.”

Did he end up kidnapping Robert Redford?

“Sure did.”

Is Robert Redford in the trunk of that Cadillac?

“Sure is. But, you know: It’s spacious as heck back there. We wouldn’t have put him in a, say, a Miata’s trunk. The man’s a star.”

Thoughtful of you.

“There’s always enough time for good manners.”

I suppose.

Bike Wheel Turn By The Thighs And Bob

Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Enjoying the great outdoors on my trusty bicycle. You might be able to see the USA in your Chevrolet, but it’s a lot easier to look at the woods on a bike.”

No helmet?

“Not with my hair.”

Sure.

“It would be a crime.”

I agree. You ever get any of the other Grateful Deads to go biking with you?

“Yeah, that’s pretty much a non-starter. I did try, though.”

How’d it go?

“Mickey just played the damn thing.”

Sounds right.

“Billy threw his through the front window of a small electronics shop called Discount Disco Lou’s.”

Discount Disco Lou?

“Lou had some fine prices, and he played a lot of Donna Summer. Name’s kinda self-explanatory.”

And why did Billy throw a bicycle through his window?

“Fit of pique.”

Yeah, okay.

“Hey, how’s it coming with the Murder Heist?”

What? That’s not happening. And it’s not a thing. It doesn’t exist, and we’re not doing it.

“Shame about that. Everyone’s excited.”

Everyone? Who’s everyone?

“You know, all the gang. President Nixon, Kim Jong-Un, Josh.”

Hold on. You guys talk when I’m not around?

“We, uh, have a group chat.”

Not good.

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