“Who?”
John Mayer.
“Parish, bring me my phone?”
How do you have a smart phone?
“Dude, I have access to a time machine, a super-intelligent AI, and a bag of infinite holdings: I can get an iPhone.”
Okay.
…
…
…
“Huh.”
Yeah.
“Leave ’em alone for twenty years and look what they get up to.”
It’s a mess.
“Where Phil in all of this?”
His band’s across the street.
“Literally?”
31 miles away.
“For fuck’s sake.”
Yeah.
…
Your sideburns make you look like pudgy Wolverine.
“First of all, Wolverine’s healing factor would never allow him to become pudgy; second: bite me.”
Goddamn it.
Look who’s back.
YOU MADE FUN OF MY SHOES.
Seriously: Always lurking, just busy at the work factory. Besides, you guys were having legitimate fun and my only mode is to show up and bitch about everything because… well, because of horseshit like this.
Some of the reporting is already failing to make the distinction between this and “The Grateful Dead.” Should be fun, so soon after all the LAST EVARs and whatnot.
That’s the thing that’s annoying me. Call it something else.
Yeah. It sounds like a sitcom. It’s not even a pun, for fuck’s sake.
I love the fact that they are doing this without Phil. Sure we can be annoyed somewhat but the enemy of my enemy is my friend, and Phil counts somewhere as Frenemy or something, so although I would love to see Phil, I also love that his friends are playing without him. The way he barked orders at the drummers and everyone in Santa Clara was too much.
Maybe I was misreading his movements, but he seemed to want to rule the clubhouse, and nobody likes that.
It’s as natural a pairing as the Scooby Doo gang and the Harlem Globetrotters.