“Hello out there. I don’t know if anyone’s watching this, but this is Bobert W. Weir with the Grateful Dead. I’m not dead. Surprise.”
Bobby?
“The van for the venue left without me, and I’m stuck in the hotel room.”
This is not really a problem, Bob.
“I’ve only got three ounces of pot, four grams of cocaine, eight guitars, and an undisclosed number of stone-cold teen foxes. I’m gonna have to rock star the shit out of this.”
Just call the front desk.
“I have begun to grow potatoes.”
In the hotel room?
“Yup. I have colonized my hotel room.”
You’re not allowed to watch movies anymore.
I volunteer as being one of the stone-cold teen foxes
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_CLWRPmEVuyw/TOtt2J7H2eI/AAAAAAAADLA/K59DC6sD9TY/s1600/hunting%2Bfox%2Bcan%2Bsee%2Bto%2Bhunt%2Bnow.jpg
YES
SPENCER YES
My shoulder’s real sore/
Don’t forget the ambien!/
Stone-cold teen foxes.
http://i763.photobucket.com/albums/xx276/mccimages/Reactions/BusterKeaton_4001_zpsvldbai0l.gif
Wonderfulness, joyous wonderfulness.
cool History teacher look. chixx dig Mr Weir, hang around after class.