Tag: dwight yoakum

“Dwilliam–”

“Dwight.”

“–your hat is eating your head. I don’t mean to alarm you or anything, but I feel it incumbent upon me to warn you. Your, uh, hat’s eating your head.”

“This is just how we wear our Stetsons where I’m from, Bob.”

“New Hampshire.”

“No.”

“I thought you were from New Hampshire. You have that thick accent.”

“I have, like, the opposite of a New Hampshire accent.”

“Vermont?”

“Just smile for the camera, Bob.”

“I don’t do that.”

“Whatever.”

Hey, Dwight Yoakum. Whatcha doing?

“Pickin’.”

And grinnin’?

“Eh. It’s been a challenging interview. Bob’s mind skips around a bit.”

For example?

“He just did a ten-minute monologue on either the Holy Modal Rounders or the Holy Roman Empire. Honestly, I couldn’t tell which. Most of his statements fit both topics.”

You need to remember that Bobby was taught the art of conversation by Neal Cassady.

“Yep, that’ll do it.”

The cowboy hats are kinda like parentheses for the group.

“You’re just as bad as him.”

Thank you.

“Thanks for having me on your show, Radio Randy.”

“Bob, for the ninth time: I am not Radio Randy, whoever that is. I’m Dwight Yoakum.”

“Well, uh, that sounds like an even faker name than ‘Radio Randy.'”

“It’s my real name, Bob. Now let’s talk about–”

“Dwell.”

“–you new band…what now?”

“And dwarf.”

“Are you listing words that start with the letters ‘dw?'”

“Yuh-huh. Not that many. There’s also Dwayne.”

“I guess so.”

“Now, if we we speaking Welsh, then we’d be here all day with the ‘dw’ words. But, uh, it’s a weird combination in English. Almost as weird a combination as when you married Julia Roberts.”

“That was Lyle Lovett, Bob.”

“Talk about outkicking your coverage.”

“I wish we could go to a commercial.”

“Your motion was never the same after Stottlemyre got through with you.”

“I am not Dwight Gooden, Bobby.”

“Ah. I’d like to tell you about a dream I had.”

“Last night?”

“In your green room. I floated from my body and all throughout the studios of Sirius XM. I was looking for my favorite station, which is Raw Dog Comedy.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Stand-up needs to be savage. I need it raw.”

“Okay.”

“But I couldn’t find it, and I wound up in Jimmy Buffett’s station. Awful friendly in there. They’re up for shots.”

“Shots and yelling and no pale, hairless shins. That’s the Buffett place.”

“And, uh, then I thought I was having a stroke, but it turned out to be Kpop.”

“Those Kpop fans are downright un-American. We got our own boy bands here.”

“We’re in danger of falling behind in the Boy Band Race.”

“There’s a Boy Band Gap, right. Bobby, the Dead played a lot of country music over the years.”

“Kinda. ‘We played a handful of country songs a lot’ would be the more accurate phrasing. We meant to learn more cowboy tunes, but one thing led to another and then Garcia died. We once got halfway through Blues Eyes Cryin’ in the Rain at rehearsal, but Billy got bored and bit Ramrod and, you know, that was that. I think we started playing cock rugby after that.”

“Cock rugby?”

“It’s basically rugby, but your cock’s more involved. Fast paced.”

“I’ll bet.”

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