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

Tag: sammy hagar (Page 4 of 4)

New York Times Bestselling Author Sammy Hagar

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Chapter One: “WOOOOOO!”

Chapter Two: “All riiiight, let’s get this going!”

Chapter Three: “Pineapple!”

Chapter Four: “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Chapter Five: “The Rise of Bolivarism in South America – An Overview!”

Chapter Six: “Hey, what happened to the other bartender? The one with the big Cabo Wabos?”

Chapter Seven: “SHOTS!”

Chapter Eight: “I think that guy’s got coke.”

Chapter Nine: “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

Chapter Ten: “Listen, I got a ton of black friends, but…”

Chapter Eleven: “I can get it up, gimme a second.”

Chapter Twelve: “ZZZZZZZ.”

The Position Has Been Filled

As the Dead & Company tour is planned for the late Fall, Woody Hayes will already be in hibernation, plump from craft-services barbecue and tuggers from divorcees; he also will have plugged up his backdoor with leaves, dirt, and free t-shirts. It is dangerous to approach his dwelling during these months, but when Festival Season arrives anew, Woody Hayes will be there, sitting in on a Merle Haggard song and making a serious dent in the shrimp tray.

Sammy Hagar came down to TRI Studios one time when Billy and Mickey were there. Jeff Chimenti was there, too, as this pre-dated his life of crime. It didn’t sound anything like the Dead, obviously, but there was a goofy energy about it and they sounded like fun at 100 decibels; they played for hours. When they were putting their guitars away, Bobby asked Sammy Hagar to he wanted to tour with himself and the drummers  and Sammy Hagar started laughing so hard that he pissed his jumpsuit.

David Gilmour responded to the Dead’s outreach with a handwritten note on handmade paper. It informed them that the offer was a huge honour (they do that) but he would have to regrettably decline, as he was already playing most of the venues a bit later in the year. If you didn’t know how to read British, you would assume he was being polite, but he was doing that English bullshit where he speaks in code because he’s fancy and all the other fancy people laugh at you.

An entreaty was also made to Queen’s Brian May, but the call did not go well because Brian May started talking about badgers. Brian May is fucking obsessed with badgers, which as far as I can make out, are some sort of fat European tunnel squirrel. They fuck up gardens; they’re pests; Brian May has chosen them as his totem. After around ten minutes of “They also enjoy eating rutabaga,” Billy lost his patience and called him a limey and that was the end of that.

Stevie Ray Vaughn did not return calls.

Of Course He Is

mickey sammy drums

  • Is Mickey jamming with Sammy Hagar?
  • Is Mickey jamming with Sammy Hagar for Sammy Hagar’s new reality show?
  • Sammy Hagar’s doing a reality show?
  • Is Mickey wearing a Dead shirt?
  • Is Mickey having one of his moments where he thinks he’s Jesus?
  • Is Mickey giving a lecture about the history of whatever wooden doodad he’s currently whacking to the cameraman?
  • Seriously, Sammy Hagar’s doing a reality show?
  • Is Billy hopped up on meth and tequila, perched in the air ducts dressed in a tactical Hawaiian shirt and about to see how prepared Mickey’s barn is for a terrorist attack?

Too Much Of Anything

You know you’ve been listening to too much Dead when…

  • Last Tuesday, you were in the supermarket buying pudding and for no reason at all, you went up to this tiny raisin of a woman and screamed, “Tiger jam! What WHAT?!” real loud at her and then you grabbed her head and rubbed it in your crotch until the manager came and now you can’t shop there anymore and you’re pretty sure the cops are looking for you.
  • That dream about Mrs. Donna Jean stops giving you a boner.
  • That dream about Billy starts giving you a boner.
  • You’ve said, “We don’t have to listen to the Dead: we can listen to Jerry Band,” and meant it.
  • Your hard drive contains more than one photo of Bobby with Sammy Hagar.
  • There are at least 23 metrics available to you to place an unlabelled show or picture: keyboardist, drummer, which ridiculously over-built guitars were they wielding, do said guitars sound like guitars or are they making bloopy noises, facial hair, was Mrs. Donna Jean giving birth, is Healy being a dick to Bobby, etc.
  • You’ve described your morning routine as coffee>pooping>oatmeal>pooping reprise.

 

 

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