“John Mayer, thank you for joining me again on The Radio Randy Show here on SiriusXM Channel 29.”
“29? Wait, that’s JamOn. I thought we would be on the Dead’s channel.”
“They’ve changed format. It’s all Parish, all the time over there now.”
“The guy’s got a ton of stories.
“So we’ll be on JamOn for this interview.”
“Radio Randy, could I talk to you off the radio for a second?”
“No. I cease to exist when I’m not broadcasting.”
“Huh.”
“Incredibly lazy universe we exist in, buddy. Anyway, you’re on The Radio Randy Show on JamOn. In a couple minutes, we’ll be playing an out-of-context, mostly-dialogue segment of Trey’s musical about a pickup truck, and after that we’ve got an entire set from Twaddle.”
“I thought their name was Twiddle.”
“This is a Twiddle side-project.”
“Sweet Jesus, I don’t want to be associated with that. I sell out arenas all over the world, man. Can’t we do this on any other channel? What about the one my solo work usually appears on?”
“Channel 31. It’s called Pussyboy, Unlimited.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“You, that Sheeran kid, John Legend, That’s what’s great about satellite radio: the variety. You can have comedy or gospel or 90’s grunge or soppy little pissboys.”
“Pussyboys.”
“Both.”
“Can we talk about my watches? I’ve brought many of my finest timepieces here to share with you and the audience. These watches are, like, my life told in horology.
“The study of hookers.”
“Not whoreology.”
“I bet that’s a fun major. Makes me want to go back to college. John, let’s take a call.”
“How? We don’t even have microphones.”
“You really should have learned to ignore details like that so far into this nonsense, John. Caller, you’re on Radio Randy and John Mayer.”
“FIRE. GRRRRR.”
“Shut up, you! I told you I vould do all the talking!”
“Can I get your name, caller?”
“GRRRR.”
“Shut it! Don’t ruin this for us, you dumb motherfucker! Our names are not important. Vhat is important is that Josh Meyers vill purchase us and carry us villingly into his home.”
“GRRRR!”
“Do what you’re told, brute! All your parts are from Jews and homos!”
“GRRRR!”
“Vhat the fuck? You kick me? Don’t kick. I’ll kick you.”
MONSTER KICK-FIGHT NOISE
…
“Radio Randy, could we not take any more calls?”
“I had fun with that one. And it was watch-related.”
“Only vaguely.”
“Let’s keep it going, then. Watch. Watch. That is a Xhosa word, I believe.”
“No.”
“Yes. Means Wearable descriptor of what is conceptual yet provable. Fascinating language, Xhosa. That’s the one with all the clicks. I bet those folks are natural beatboxers.”
“The word ‘watch’ is English. Or maybe Germanic.”
“And the word ‘wrist,’ of course, comes to us from Eugenides Wrist, a Revolutionary War hero who was the first man in America to have wrists.”
“Highly implausible. John, I happen to be a bit of a timepiece enthusiast myself.”
“Oh, really? You’re into watches?”
“Nah, man. Sundials. They’re making a comeback.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“It’s a whole new street fashion thing called cavecore. It’s new, like I said, so you probably haven’t heard of it.”
“Radio Randy, I am on the bleeding edge of streetwear in this and many other countries. I’ve never heard of cavecore.”
“Sundials, raw leather, wild faux fur. It’s Paleolithic and it’s Paleo-with-it. Very in.”
“No. You’re making that up. Let me show me you a special piece. This is a 1963 Tank Rolex that Sammy Davis, Jr., gave his agent’s son for a Bar Mitzvah present.”
“You think he performed at the party?”
“Radio Randy, you and I both know that the Candyman couldn’t leave a crowd alone.”
“The man had show business in his blood, John. Tell us about this watch here.”
“Good eye. This is an Ernotszch Clouzeau. piece called the Montaine 7222 Quad-Tourbillon Diver’s Free Chronograph. There are 800 moving parts in the big hand alone. This might be the most pointlessly complicated piece of technology on the planet.”
“It’s a beautiful piece.”
“Thank you, Radio Randy.”
“I want it inside me.”
“What? No.”
“Shove your watch up my ass, John. Do it live here on SiriusXM. Channel 29 on your dial, number one in your heart. The only place to hear String Cheese Incident’s newest project, a jam opera about John Roebling entitled Take Me To The Bridge. JamOn!”
…
“The guy who built the Brooklyn–”
“STICK IT IN, LITTLE POTATO!”
–Bridge? Wow. Okay, we’re done.”
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