…if you don’t buy ’em, I can’t steal ’em. Think of someone besides yourself, huh?
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Tag: David Lemieux (Page 1 of 8)
Hey, archivist-with-the-mostivist David Lemieux. Whatcha doing?
“Proposing.”
Is that how you do it in Canada?
“Oh, yeah. Gotta be a river involved. And you wanna give your bride-to-be a trout worth about two month’s salary.”
That is not a two-month trout, dude.
“Check the market, bub. Trout’s gone through the roof.”
I’m not arguing about the price of fish. Why are you proposing to me?
“Well, I was thinking about the reaming you’re taking.”
Heavy ream.
“And you’d be a lot better off as a Canadian citizen. But, obviously, you don’t have much to offer in terms of skills or cash, so they won’t just let you in.”
My selling points are few.
“So I figured the Christian thing to do is gay-marry you and make you a Canadian.”
I’m down. Do I have to watch Letterkenny?
“You have to watch Letterkenny.”
Good with that. Been looking for an excuse.
“Quality Canadian Content right there.”
Dave–
“David.”
–aren’t you already married? To a woman? And have seven children?
“You’re referring to my wife, Regina, and the kids: Gordie, Girl Gordie, Northstar, Jean-Luc, Fleece, and the twins, Billie and Mickie.”
Yes. Them.
“They’re cool with it.”
I’m in. How soon can I get some sweet, sweet Commie healthcare?
“We can drive directly from the airport to the hospital. Do you want a superkidney?”
What the hell is that?
“It’s a thing we have up here. Don’t tell anyone. Want one?”
Sure.
“Great, it’s settled. We’re getting married, and you’re getting bionic organs implanted.”
This is the best news I’ve heard in weeks.
“Your future starts here and now. In this river.”
…
“You gotta eat the fish to make it official.”
Raw?
“You eat sushi, don’t you?”
Sushi isn’t the whole thing. It’s just the delicious middle bit. Sushi isn’t the scales and the guts.
“Y’gotta eat the fish, man. You want a superkidney or not?”
Oh, fine.
Hi, David Lemieux. Whatcha doing?
“Thirst trapping.”
The drip is fierce. When is GQ doing a style article about you?
“Grateful Mort actually slid into my DMs the other day. He called my aesthetic ‘Backyardcore.'”
Not incorrect. How’s life during plague time up in Canada?
“Not too shabby. We’ve been listening to the scientists, considering the needs of others, and making minor modifications to our personal behavior that provide great benefits to society. How about you?”
The opposite of that.
“Yeah. I know. I was just being polite.”
Thanks.
“It’s why we’ve had to posse up.”
What?
“Well, the main vector for new Canadian infections is visiting Americans. They say they’re driving to Alaska, but they’re fibbers. They’re damnable fibbers. Sorry about the language, but this has me hot.”
Don’t worry about it.
“I can understand the lure of the Great North. It’s not White now, but it’s still Great. The beauty of our land is surpassed solely by the kindness in our hearts.”
All true.
“But even the kindest Canadian can be pushed too far.”
You mentioned something about a posse?
“We’ve been hunting Americans.”
Aw, man. You were, like, the last sane man. Corona’s driven everyone else blitzoid, but you were keeping it together.
“I’m still even-keeled, man. We’re not bloodthirsty maniacs. No one’s gotten hurt.”
No one?
“No one’s gotten hurt on purpose. There’s been a mishap or two.”
Explain to me what you’re doing, Dave.
“David.”
Talk.
“Americans visiting Canada are required to self-quarantine for 14 days, at which point they’re issued a Certificate of Compliance. And they’re real nice certificates, too. Fancy paper, embossed printing, hologram.”
Not really the point.
“So we, the posse, patrol the streets and ask Americans to see their Certificates of Compliance.”
How do you know people are Americans?
“You can tell.”
Okay. What if they don’t have one?
“That’s when the mishaps occur.”
Uh-huh. David?
“David.”
That’s what I said.
“Oh, right, you did. Sorry about that. I assumed.”
David, is this posse a governmental body of any sort?
“A couple of the guys are fire fighters.”
…
You and your drunken buddies are rampaging through town attacking people you suspect of being Americans, aren’t you?
“That’s an uncharitable reading of the situation.”
Disappointed.
“I’ll never apologize for my patriotism.”
What about the stranger-beating?
“That falls under patriotism’s umbrella.”
…
You’re not David Lemieux, are you?
“DAMMIT.”
Get out of his body!
“Better?”
No, not really. Did you eat David Lemieux?
“How many times do I have to explain this: We don’t ‘eat’ people. It’s more like a corporate takeover, but with screaming.”
Dude.
“There’s a lot of screaming. Not gonna lie.”
Okay, start from the beginning. Who are you?
“Steve Harris.”
“NO, YOU’RE NOT.”
“Yeah, you got me. But it would be a lot easier for you to call me that.”
Lemme guess: I can’t pronounce your real name?
“Not without two or three more tongues.”
Fine.
“Also, the fourth through ninth syllables are communicated telepathically.”
Got it.
“And there’s a concurrent scent.”
A what?
“My native language is partially odor-based.”
Strange.
“Bookstores can get a bit whiffy.”
We’re drifting from the main topic: Who are you and why are you here?
“As I told Oteil, I represent a group known as…well, you couldn’t say that, either. Which is a shame, because our name is super-cool. Anyway, we’re pirates, kind of. Pirates would be the closest approximation in your culture. Except instead of sailboats, we have omniships.”
Omniships?
“They go anywhere. Instantly.”
Sounds useful.
“Gamechanger. And we have rapebots.”
That sounds awful.
“It was literally the worst thing we could think of. Turns out the be one of the best investments we ever made.”
How so?
“Well, you only gotta use your rapebot army once or twice. Once everyone knows you have one, and that you’re willing to use it, life gets a lot easier. You hear ‘Yes’ a lot more after deploying the rapebots.”
Stop talking about rapebots. Why are you here?
“When the Murder Heist calls, you pick up the phone, braj.”
I don’t care what the Enthusiasts think; this is the worst storyline in a long time.
“It’s not as bad as the time Alex Jones demanded to take a shit in Josh Meyer’s RV.”
True.
Wait, it’s vuh-NEE-tuh? I always thought it was vuh-NEH-tuh.
The statements “I am pleased by the high level of viscosity” and “WHEEEEEE it’s slippy” transmit the same thought.
Now, what I heard was “TotD can cowrite my book.” You tell me what you heard.
(Watch right after Bobby gets introduced. I figured out how to have the video start at the right time. But go to 20:51 if you’re watching the whole thing.)
“Good evening, everyone. I’m Grateful Dead archivist David Lemieux. I’m here with Gary Lambert, who will not have a speaking part due to the limitations of the dialogue-only format, and the great Jesse Jarnow. Hey, Jesse.”
“Thanks for having me, Dave.”
“David.”
“Sorry.”
“Jesse, we have a great show from 1993 tonight, or at least most of a great show from 1993.”
“Right. The last couple songs were not filmed.”
“Right. Do you know why not?”
“Because the Dead weren’t occasionally bush league. They were fully committed to half-assing it, phoning it in, and declaring their efforts ‘good enough.’ They were big-league bush leaguers.”
“Interesting. Can you share your thoughts on Gary’s shirt?”
“I’d rather not, David.”
“Also interesting.”
SWHUBBLEDUBBLEVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPOP!
“Jesse, are you still there?”
“BOOF ME!”
“Excuse me?”
“SHOVE ME UP YOUR ASS AND BECOME IMMORTAL.”
“Okay, this is just inappropriate.”
“I AM THE UNIVERSAL CLEANSER.”
“Excuse me for a sec.”
…
“Hey, hoser.”
Me?
“You see any other hosers around here?”
Guess not.
“Shit like this is why you’re not allowed on the pre-show.”
Aw.
“No one to blame but yourself, buddy.”
I know.
JAI-ALAI
“It’s Basque, eh? They’re kinda like the Quebecois of Spain. Real feisty. And so what y’got is basically squash mixed with murder. Instead of a racquet, the players wear these baskets on their hands. They’re called cestas, which just means ‘basket,’ and they whip this ball against the wall at maybe 300 kilometers per hour. And there’s wagering. The wagering is a big, big part of it. No fights, though. Not like hockey. You’ll never see two jai alai-ers drop the cestas and go at it, partially because the cestas are tied securely to their arms. Back when Mulroney was PM, he tried to build a series of frontons across the nation, but the Albertans weren’t having it.”
BUZKASHI
“I’m not gonna lie to you: I am not totally familiar with this one. It’s like polo, I guess, but instead of a ball, there’s a dead goat. I don’t know if the goat starts off dead, but it definitely does not survive until halftime. Not a sport you can play in most countries nowadays. I think Mickey’s a fan.”
YAK RACING
“Lotta fun! Gotta get a yak, though, and that’s tough in quarantine. Actually, you need two yaks. Otherwise, you got no race. You need at least two yaks.”
SEPAK TAKRAW
“Oh, I saw this one on Take a Gander at These Athletic Hosers, which is the Canadian version of Wide World of Sports. It’s volleyball, but you use your feet. Requires a super-flexible groin, but you don’t have to get a yak.”
QUIDDITCH
“This isn’t a real sport. No offense to the folks who love those books, but it’s just a bunch of nerds stumbling around with brooms in between their legs. It’s nice that they’re outside for once, but I’m not gonna call this a sport. It’s barely an activity.”
COMPETITIVE ASS-EATING
“That’s not real. Stop that. Keep it clean, eh?”
EUROPEAN HANDBALL
“I appreciate that they put ‘European’ right in the name. They tell you upfront that you’re gonna be dealing with some goofy foreign nonsense. It’s like they threw indoor soccer and basketball and lacrosse in a blender. Or maybe it’s like water polo on land. I do know that Romanians are great at it, whatever that’s worth.”
“Hi, everyone. Welcome to our regular Friday night webcast. I’m Dead archivist David Lemieux. Joining me is the co-host of Tales From The Golden Road, Gary Lambert, and NBA Hall-of-Famer and Deadhead Bill Walton.”
“David, it’s no coincidence that we meet tonight on Zoom, because that’s what the Grateful Dead’s music does to me, and to us all. Who hasn’t been zoomed to Jupiter by a world-shattering Other One, or zoomed in their rear areas by a tasty Music Never Stopped? The great Aretha Franklin once asked ‘Who’s zooming who?’ and tonight I have her answer: the Dead is zooming us, Miz Franklin.”
“I love your enthusiasm, Bill.”
“The French call it joie de vivre, David. That’s more words than ‘enthusiasm,’ but fewer syllables. The French have always been known for their efficiency.”
“Have they?”
“Oh, yeah. For years, that’s how Coach Wooden would end our practices. ‘You looked good out there, boys, but don’t forget that the French have always been known for their efficiency.’ Kareem and I still wrap up our phone conversations with the phrase.”
“That’s very sweet, actually.”
“Kareem’s a pussycat. David?”
“Uh-huh, eh?”
“Why is Gary not speaking?”
“The restrictions of the dialogue-only format. It just gets too confusing with more than two people.”
“Gotcha. I’m getting a bit of scramble on my end here. The connection’s getting–”
SHWIZZLEbleeeeeeeeeeZAP!
“LEMIEUX! YOU ARE THE DISEASED CUNT OF A DEAD MOOSE!”
“Um…Bill?”
“THE GORKY MUTANT HAS BEEN DISPLACED BY MY GENIUS!”
“Oh, hey, Klaus Kinski.”
“KEEP MY ESTEEMED NAME FROM YOUR THIN CANADIAN LIPS! USE THOSE LIPS FOR EATING BEAVER ASS, AND PRAISING MEDIOCRITIES! I WILL RUN YOU OVER WITH A CEMENT TRUCK!”
“Y’know, if I’ve offended you, then I apologize.”
“APOLOGIZE? APOLOGIZE!?”
BANG!
…
“Did you just shoot Gary ‘Legs’ Lambert?”
“YES! AND I ENJOYED THE ACT SO MUCH THAT I EJACULATED CONCURRENTLY! MY JOY RUNS DOWN MY BEAUTIFUL THIGH!”
“You are a mean man.”
“Ja. Bring me a cigarette and a teenager.”
Hey, David Lemieux, super-archivist extraordinaire. Whatcha doing?
“Being outside. Rubbing up against strange creatures. Getting sneezed on again and again. You know, the little things that make life worth living and that will surely always be easily accessible.”
Uh-huh. When are you?
“Summer of ’19.”
Ah. Enjoy it.
“If you can keep a secret, I’m kinda taking it all for granted.”
DON’T DO THAT! SAVOR THE CROWDS, MAN!
…
“Don’t yell at me.”
Sorry. Hey, I got the new June ’76 box set.
“You bought the new box set?”
I obtained it. Why do we have to go through this every time? It is now in my possession.
“Gotcha. In Canada, we call that ‘stealing.’ What do you cal it down there?”
Oh, it’s also called stealing here, but Purge Rules are in effect in Florida right now. We’re very much in an “every meth-head for himself” moment.
“That bad, huh?”
Some states are worse than others. Our governor is one of those “personal liberty” guys. He believes people should make their own decisions about their health.
“I think I see the flaw in his belief system.”
People are idiots?
“I didn’t wanna say it. Seemed rude.”
Never rude to tell the truth. So, anyway: loved the box set. Sounds so crisp, I call it Quentin.
“Thanks. We worked really hard on it.”
Liked everything about it. The music, the packaging. The liner notes.
“Ah, Jeez, not this again.”
CELL PHONE NOISE
“I don’t deserve one of these calls.”
Do you not, David Lemieuxnovermyhammy? Do you not?
“No.”
…
No, you probably don’t, but we’re locked in to the bit.
CELL PHONE NOISE
Pick up the phone.
“I’m cross with you.”
…
“David Lemieux! Who are you?”
“Hello, Dave Pick. Motherland need you.”
“Is this Putin?”
“Da.”
“How’d you get this number?”
“I am Putin.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“You come to Moscow, Dave Pick. Ve are close to miracle drug for corona.”
“Why do you need me?”
“Scientists vere very unorganized. Write things down on napkin. Most files just chucked into boxes. Ve need archivist.”
“I don’t know about all that, Mr. Putin. Is it just ‘Mr. Putin?’ What do I call you?”
“Boss.”
“See, I’ve got a job already. And I don’t wanna go to Moscow. I really like where I live. There’s fish and moose and bears, and I just love it here.”
“Your bear is little bear. Russia has best bear. Russia is known for bear. Vhen someone say ‘Russia,’ you think ‘bear.’ Canadian bear is nyet good bear. Veak bear.”
“I’m gonna have to go ahead and disagree with you there, if you don’t mind. Canadian bears are incredible animals.”
“Nyet. They are like big raccoons. Are sissy bears that eat from garbage. Russian bears nyet eat from garbage. Have inner dignity gained through suffering.”
“Can’t join you. Just can’t agree with you. Sorry, but I can’t. I won’t let my bears down.”
“Ve stage bear fight.”
“Oh, no. Let’s not do that.”
“Da. Vill happen. Now Putin vants to see. Putin is bored in Kremlin, anyway.”
“You watch Tiger King?”
“I’m Putin, not dead. Of course I vatch Joe Exotic. Ve make bears fight in honor of Joe. He is disgusting homosexual, but he is also brave tiger varrior and great songwriter. Maybe I should tell Dummy to pardon him.”
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing. Is settle: Dave Pick come to Moscow, ve have bear fight on internet.”
“Mr. Putin, I really can’t.”
thwip
FLUMP
“Oh my God, someone just blow-darted the guy in the mascot costume!”
“Da. Putin did this.”
“Why?”
“Because is fun being Putin. Men come get you in ten minutes. Please nyet to be struggling.”
DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT
…
“Umm…”
Dave?
“David. And, uh, what just happened?”
You got a job. And an invitation to a sporting event.
“I didn’t ask for any of that.”
None of us asked for any of this, buddy. And yet: here we are.
“Are men really coming for me?”
Yes. Nyet to be struggling.
FUN FACT: In Canada, box sets come in a bag.
FILCH FACT: If you don’t buy the new 5-show June ’76 collection, then I can’t steal it.
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