Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
No.
“I got warehouses full of randos.”
We can’t have a second day of Rando War. There’s just not enough meat on the bone.
“Yeah, but you don’t have any other ideas, so I think we should just milk this for a while.”
…
Please don’t tell people any of that.
“Rando War is hell.”
Yes, for all of us. Is that Lester Bangs?
“Oh, yeah. Could be.”
Ask him what he thinks of Lou Reed.
“I’m not gonna do that.”
Smart decision.
“I’m a wily one.”
“Rando!”
That’s a fucking tree, Mickey.
“Randos!”
That’s a pile of cowbells on a blanket.
“Rando?”
That’s Neil Peart’s drum kit. Do you understand what a rando is, Mickey?
“Is this a rando?”
That’s a baby duck, Mickey.
“Random one, though.”
I can’t even look at you right now.
“RAAAAAAAAAAAAA–”
Stop this.
“–NDOOOOOOOOO.”
Why are you so into this?
“This is personal. I don’t wanna get into it.”
Okay.
“Fine, I’ll tell you.”
Fuck.
“My father died in the Second World Rando War.”
That is neither true, nor a thing.
“Very true. Just like Bob Geldof in The Wall. I wrote a song about it. It’s called When The Randos Ran Free.”
Stop talking.
“I am the King of Randopolis.”
You okay?
…
“I’ve never been in a band before. I mean, in high school. After that, it was guys I hired. This is different.”
How so?
“I can’t tell them what to do.”
Oh, shouldn’t do that. You didn’t try, did you?
“Once.”
What happened?
“You know the part of the contract that forbids Billy from me in the dick?”
Yeah.
“We had to amend it to cover Billy paying someone else to do it.”
Billy will find a loophole.
“Right. So, you know: we’re equals.”
Okay.
“Except for Jeff and Oteil.”
Obviously.
“But here’s the thing: I don’t want to be equals. And since I can’t achieve that contractually, I will destroy their spirits with the strategic use of randos.”
This will not end well.
“Someday, this Rando War is gonna end.”
…
Please don’t say I love–
“I love the smell of randos in the morning.”
–the smell of…yeah, that.”
“I’m gonna win this.”
THERE’S NO WINNING A RANDO WAR, DAMN YOU!
…
“Was that your Oscar moment?”
Did I nail it?
“No.”
I didn’t think so.
“I found randos!”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mickey: that’s Walter Cronkite and Mike Gordon. And the lady looks important. And I think that’s Steve Kimock’s hat.
“Gimme a second.”
I don’t want to.
“But you will.”
Oh, fine.
…
“Here you go. Prime rando.”
Nope.
“Not randos?”
They are actually less rando than you are, Mick.
…
“Is the guy behind me a dolphin?”
No, he’s the living embodiment of both nepotism and the different beauty standards society holds male and female movie stars to.
“Wait, wait, wait: I got ’em. I got the greatest collection of randos. Check this out.”
Jesus, Mickey.
“What? I’m standing right next to two randos!”
On which side of you?
…
“Right side?”
Wow.
“They are randos, though.”
Sure, but their rand gets overwhelmed by the non-rand surrounding it.
“I’m not great at this.”
Not at all.
…
“I didn’t know Branford was married.”
You’re not allowed to be in the Rando War anymore.
…
…
…
Get out.
“What?”
No. You’re too pure and good for this sordid business, Jeff Chimenti.
“Y’know: you include me in your bullshit against my wishes, and the one time I want to participate, you’re a dick.”
It’s for your own good.
“Oh, suck my dick.”
…
Are your pubes as magical as–
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Fuckers want a fight? They got one.”
Why are you all taking this so seriously?
“Cuz it’s not a Rando Game, man.”
…
Yeah, okay.
“Look at these. You ever seen randos this randy?”
The rand factor is off the charts with these two.
“You see Josh, Billy, any of ’em? You tell ’em Bobby’s coming. AND RANDOS ARE COMING WITH ME!”
Can’t you tell them yourself?
“Rando Wars are proxy wars.”
This is the dumbest storyline yet.
“It’s not as bad as Mecha-Billy.”
That’s not a good argument. Nothing’s as bad as Mecha-Billy.
“Can’t all be winners.”
Nope.
“You don’t understand, boy.”
“This isn’t a Rando War.”
“It’s an operating table.”
“And I’m the surgeon.”
…
Damn.
“Lesh out.”
Oh, not you, too.
“What? Rando Wars are great, man. Any more fun, it’d be illegal.”
Would that stop you?
“The law is kind of an arbitrary construct compared to morality, man.”
Right.
“Besides, I met one of my wives during a Rando War.”
Which one?
“One of ’em.”
Right.
Hey, Joh–
“It’s on. They want a Rando War, they got one.”
…
I hate all of you.
“Look at ’em! Hipster randos in their summer uniforms!”
I see. Please don’t escalate this.
“Bobby brings one rando, I bring two. Billy finds a pack of randos, I get a brigade of ’em. That’s the Connecticut way.”
John, please–
“SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE RANDOS!”
–don’t…I need to write a book and get away from you people.
“You need to write a book, I need to pay too much for ugly bullshit and solo: we all got needs, man. And right now? I need to win this Rando War.”
It isn’t even a thing!
“John Mayer being in the Grateful Dead isn’t a thing, either, but here we are. RANDO WAR!”
…
What are you wearing on your lower limbs?
“Pants.”
You sure?
“I bought them at–”
We all know where you bought them, and we all know what happened to you while you were there. Move on and answer the question.
“They’re just pants, man.”
If those are pants, then where the hell’s your potato salad? I see a plate you could put the potato salad on, but no salad.
…
“Please stop thinking about my crotch so much.”
If it were where a crotch should be, then I would.
“Can I go? I have to look at these pins. Did you know I collect vintage Dead pins?”
Since when?
“Since these guys showed them to me.”
Sure.
“Already bought about three million worth.”
Sounds right.
“Almost all of them turned out to be fake.”
That also sounds right.
“RANDO WAR!”
God, I wish Garcia were alive.
“I heard there was a Rando War going on.”
I really hoped this would have blown over by now.
“I got one, too!”
Mickey, that’s not a rando. That’s Carlos Santana.
…
“Yup, yeah. I see it now.”
Please don’t say–
“Thought it was one of Phil’s busboys.”
–anything racist. Like that.
“Gimme a sec. I got randos coming out of my ass.”
Ew.
“Rando!”
The opposite.
“Not a rando?”
I thought you were deaf. Are you blind, too?
…
“This is not a rando.”
No.
“It’s Steven Spielberg.”
Close enough.
“I can do better.”
But you don’t have to.
“Found one!”
That’s Garcia.
“Dammit.”
You’re awful at this game.
“Sure, but look at all the famous people I know.”
Yeah, okay.
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