Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: jimmy fallon

Somewhat-Less-Than Hallowed Eve

Hey, Josh. Love your costume.

“I’m not wearing a costume.”

No? I thought you were Guy With Terrible Friends.

“I didn’t miss talking to you.”

Well, you’re back on tour with the Dead (Or What’s Left Of ‘Em) and so now we have to chat more regularly. Does Jimmy Fallon smell like scotch?

“No.”

Tequila?

“Yeah.”

Figured.

“Hey, man: alcoholism is not funny.”

Makes it perfect for Jimmy, then.

“Are you this relentlessly negative about everyone?”

I’m nice to your friends that don’t suck. Which in this group, ironically, is the gay guy.

“Stop it.”

I’m pretty sure all your Santa has in his bag is herpes.

“He’s not a Santa.”

He looks like if a yoga studio were homeless. Andy Cohen tripping? Those people love their drugs.

“What? That’s just homophobic, man.”

I didn’t mean gays love drugs. I meant “rich Hollywood Jews at Dead shows” love their drugs.

“Oh.”

Although, throwing “gay” in there doesn’t make it less true. He candyflipping?

“I don’t know what that is.”

Hobodosing?

“Hobodosing?”

It’s like Robodosing, but you have a homeless guy buy the cough syrup.

“He’s not doing that.”

Roofie-boofing?

“No.”

Andy Cohen boofing the roofs?

“You’re making these things up.”

Some toot for his snoot?

“Stop it with your rhyming lies!”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Oh, thank God. Wait. This isn’t Kim Jong-Un, is it? I know he’s been calling around lately.”

It’s not Kim Jong-Un.

“Promise.”

Yeah. It’s much more annoying.

“Fuck.”

“You’re on with John.”

“Josh, how do you like your kebab?”

“Mickey, for the ninth time: I do not want kebabs from a truck.”

“I’m here! It’s kebab time!”

“Pass. Pass on the street food, Mick.”

“Ask Johnny Carson and Paul Lynde.”

“Their names are Jimmy Fallon and Andy Cohen, and neither of them want kebabs.”

“What about bibimbap? The guy also does Korean.”

“Do not bring me ethnic food from a rando in a van, Mickey.”

“I’ll buy some extra churros.”

Billy Tells John Mayer To Wait There, Then Bursts Into Jimmy Fallon’s Dressing Room

[PDF] -Willy Wonka & The
What it says on the label.

You Just Gotta Fiddle Around

img_3487
Hey, Bobby. Whatcha doing?

“Tuning up for the big TV spot. Gonna be on Carson.”

Nope.

“Leno?”

Nuh-uh.

“Is Josh Meyers guest-hosting again?”

Jimmy Fallon.

“Who?”

Yeah, that’s about the only right answer to that. He’s a little drunken giggler. Plays beer pong with his guests so he doesn’t have to have a conversation like a grown-up.

“Ah. Must have missed the announcement.”

Bobby, why are you tuning up? The show’s not for, like, seven hours.

“Well, you know: I can either tune now, or do it while we’re supposed to be playing like usual.”

Now’s good.

“Yup.”

One more question: how many songs you guys doing?

“Um. Just, uh, the one.”

One song?

“That’s the way these things work.”

Then why do you need so many doodads?

“If I didn’t bring them, how would people know I played guitar?”

You’re holding one.

“Sometimes, you don’t get it, man.”

Have a good show, Bob.

“Sure.”

That’s Some Good Dead-Shirt Instagrammin’, Mick

img_3481I know they didn’t take away your hairbrush, too, Mickey. I’m sure Bobby went to Big-Dicked Sheila’s. He would have given you a ride.

Maybe It’s ‘Cause It’s Midnight

Quick reminder: The Dead Or What’s Left Of ‘Em will be on Jimmy Fallon’s show tonight. Show starts at 11:35 on the East Coast, and the band usually goes on after midnight. They’ll play in the band slot. You know how talk shows work; why am I explaining it to you?

What will they play? New song? (No.) Box of Rain? (No.) Cover of the new BeyoncĂ© song? (No, but not for lack of lobbying on Mickey’s part; Mickey likes songs about Red Lobster.)

TotD will now predict the future. Please welcome The Great Garnak!

Like Garcia?

And Karnak, yeah. Not that complicated a premise. Keep up.

Die.

Later. First, I gotta put on my turban.

Okay. I now communicate with the spirits of the dead, and the spirits of the Dead. OOOOOOoooh, that’s good communicatin’.

Just get to it.

The envelope!

Can I have the envelope, please?

Oh, holy shit: I’m Ed McMahon? I don’t wanna be Ed McMahon.

Someone’s gotta be. Gimme the damn envelope.

Fine.

I MAKE MY PREDICTION. “A Saudi Arabian road where many men have fallen.”

You gotta repeat the–

I know how it works.

–line. Why won’t you play along?

Ah, whatever. “A Saudi Arabian, blah blah.”

MMMMmmm. May your white privilege turn into yellow snow.

Okay, whatever.

I will now blow into the envelope.

FWOOO

That was some good envelope-blowin’.

Aw, thanks. Okay: “A road in Saudi Arabia where men keep falling.”

And what is the question, Great Garnak?

The answer is “What is Sheik-down Street?”

I hate you so much.

What?

That was a stretch.

Funnier than anything Fallon’ll say tonight.

Sure. Now: is this something you know, or a guess?

The spirits communicated with me.

A guess. Okay.

How would I know anything? No one calls me.