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

Tag: bob weir (Page 62 of 198)

But What Does Ned Lagin Think?

“Keith, you want anything special for the show?”

“Pumpkin?”

“Gotcha.”

OR

Ned Lagin asked what key the next song was in, and then proceeded to play vaguely rhythmic and atonal squeaky bloops for the next 20 minutes.

OR

Bobby has no idea who the fuck the skinny guy with all the toys is, and at this point it’s too late to ask.

OR

S. Lighthill! When you absolutely, positively, 100% guaranteed need everything left lying in the middle of the stage, call S. Lighthill.

OR

Billy kept punching Ned Lagin in the dick and fucking around with his patch cords.

“One ringy-dingy. Look at me! I’m Billy Tomlin! Two ringy-dingy.”

OR

Game on: Spot The Heineken.

OR

Someone please feed Ned Lagin.

Bobby, You Knew I Was A Snake Tee-Shirt When You Put Me On

Enthusiasts, this is the rarest photograph of all: The Feeding of Snake Tee-Shirt.

“Who sssaid my name?”

Hey, Snake Tee-Shirt.

“Bobby?”

No.

“Oh.”

You miss your guy?

“I ssstill fit him! I would make him look sssexy!”

Don’t do this, Snake Tee-Shirt. Move on.

“I can’t forget the feel of hisss ssskin.”

Ew. What do you eat, anyway?

“Sssocksss with picturesss of ratsss on them.

Ew.

Bobby Ties One On

It’s upside-down, Bobby.

“The jacket? I don’t wear them a lot, but I’m pretty sure this is the proper configuration.”

The slide.

“I didn’t bring my slide. Just playing acoustic tonight.”

No, a bolo tie has three pieces: the cord, the metal tips on the end of the cord called aglets, and the thing that holds it together is called the slide.

“I feel like we all just learned something.”

The guitar should be pointing down.

“Like they crucified Saint Peter.”

Yeah, sure, I guess.

“It’s my bolo tie, and I’ll wear it how I please, thank you.”

I’m looking out for you here. If you look down too fast, you’re gonna get an accidental tracheotomy.

“That’s the worst kind. I’ll take my chances.”

The White Jeans Jam And The Bob Grows Pale

Holy shit, Bobby, please get someone to straighten those pictures. I’m gonna have an attack looking at this.

“I’ll get my best men on it.”

Thank you. Who are these people?

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

I think it’s a band.

“They’ve got guitars.”

Right.

“Could’ve stolen ’em, though. Maybe they just robbed a Sam Ash.”

You’re a lateral thinker. Just ask who they are, Bobby.

“That would be awkward.”

Why?

“We already played a set. Tell ya what, this guy’s scarf looks familiar.”

Yeah?

“I never forget a scarf. The other stuff tends to flicker in and out of my consciousness, but scarves? I meet a scarf once, and it’s in there.”

What about the guy wearing it?

“Wait, yeah. I got it. I’ve seen this fellow before.”

Awesome. Where?

“He’s standing two people to my left.”

No, Bob.

“You sure?”

Not totally, but pretty much.

“Ah, you know: I can’t tell white people apart. Or white jeans.”

And the Keds.

“They were, you know, going for a look. I’m not a white jean guy, myself.”

Why not?

“What if spaghetti’s for lunch?”

Sure.

Bob Weir Is Not–I Repeat–Not Joining Queen


“I’m not joining Queen.”

No one was asking you to.

“Couldn’t, uh, hit the high notes.”

You’re a baritone.

“And I’m betting they got some sort of rule about wearing sandals onstage.”

Freddie used to wear ballet slippers.

“Yeah, uh, I’m not going to do that.”

No.

“What’s their stance on rehearsal, y’think?”

Pro.

“When you say that, do you mean–”

Not running through the changes in the dressing room.

“–running through…ah. Yeah, I’m gonna pass.”

Think Billy’ll do it?

“Oh, I’m sure someone’s photoshopping his head onto Freddie as we speak.”

Yeah, probably. Can Billy sing?

“Not at all. But he likes cocaine and tantrums.”

Two out of three ain’t bad.

Plans And Schemes And American Dreams

bobby-jm-xmas-2016

“Josh, how are my eyes?”

“Good, Bob. Not red at all. Mine?”

“They’ll never know.”

“Cheese.”

“Cheese.”

CAMERA PHONE NOISE

“You’re, uh, not doing it any more?”

“Hand on chin?”

“Yeah. You were doing it last year with me.”

“I know, Bob.”

“You said you had a good time.”

“I did! But I like to keep it loose.”

“Little too loose.”

“Bob!”

“Well, you know, Josh: you put no effort into the picture at all. I did hand on chin, and this is my bad shoulder.”

“I thought it was the other one.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Bob, I don’t wanna fight. Let’s have dinner.”

“Will you be able to get the food to your mouth? Seem to have a problem with that movement.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“I thought we had a thing.”

“You think people will notice–”

“Your little checkered bandana, yeah.”

“–my checkered…okay, cool.”

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