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

Tag: john mayer (Page 10 of 42)

How Does Your Garden Bro?

I didn’t know Colonel Sanders was into psychedelics now.

“This is not–”

It’s like your friends are having a contest to see who can dress the worst.

“This man happens to be–”

Is Supreme for people other than douchebags now? Because up until the moment I started writing this sentence, the brand was exclusively worn by douchebags.

“Supreme is an iconic brand of streetwear that pioneered–”

What’s the point of a private plane if there’s gonna be hobos on it?

“He’s not a hobo, he’s–”

You look like the paper we took geometry tests on.

“This suit is by–”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I just don’t like you.”

Yeah, yeah. Complain to EDM Tom Bombadil over there. Pick up the phone.

“Gee, I wonder who this is.”

I think we both know.

“Yes, Kim Jong-Un?”

“Hot Dog Dick!”

“Is that Josh Meyers? I freejacked him once and almost destroyed the world in a Time War, and people have been talking about ever since. No one does Time Wars better than me, and that’s figuring for all of the illegitimate attacks on my Time War skills by the haters and losers who are very dumb.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Me and Dotard rage, bro.”

“Obama couldn’t do this. Peace. between America and North Korea, I mean.”

“Only Korea.”

“Tried and failed. Everything the man did was a failure and I have to clean up his mess. Obama probably couldn’t do this referring to swimming, either. Not great swimmers.”

“KJ?”

“Little Potato?”

“Could you swim away from him for a moment?”

“Can do.

ONLY KOREAN DOG PADDLING NOISE

“You no make dog joke.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.”

“Fatty no stop talking. Also think he peeing in pool. Water suspiciously warm around him.”

“He’s almost certainly peeing in the pool. Why are you two in the pool?”

“Have to wash off bitch-stink.”

“Ugh.”

“Got bitch juice all over. We go through half-dozen. Bing bang bing.”

“Dude, don’t say ‘Bing bang whatever.’ That’s his thing.”

“I steal. Is fun. I point, say Bing bang, whole family disappear. Fun.”

“That’s not fun.”

“Is fun if you homicidal maniac without any tether to reality.”

“True. So, lemme ask you: anything actually get accomplished at this summit?”

“I get picture with US President.”

“Besides that.”

“I fuck bitches.”

“That’s a given.”

“Only Korean scientists invent super-viagara. Dick-skin can barely hold in bone.”

“Stop telling me these things.”

“You want see? Is short but thick. Like stack of silver dollar pancakes.”

“Please stop it.”

CALL WAITING NOISE

“You hold.”

“I don’t want to hold! Don’t put me–”

CLICK

“Can’t have fun without Kim Jong-Un.”

“Oh, thank God you picked up. I mean, you’re a version of God, Your Powerfulness, but I also meant the other God. I’m just so happy to talk to you because…the things they’re saying about you…about us…I just can’t….”

“STOP CRY!”

“This is a very emotional time for me, Your Delicacy. I believed in peace when no one else did…and then the cruelty of the fake news…why do they hate us…is it because we love too much?”

“Sure, yeah, maybe. Could be other reasons, but probably ‘love too much’ thing.”

ONLY KOREAN MAN IMITATING THE CALL WAITING NOISE SOUND

“Oh, no. Gotta go. Talk later, Worm.”

“What hotel are you guys staying–”

CLICK

“Hot Dog Dick?”

“Yes.”

“Worm change, man. That guy no fun. Cry all time. Black men get menopause?”

“No. Of course black men don’t get menopause.”

“Hey, I only know one black guy.”

“Sure.”

“Come Singapore. We party. I get Dummy to do stuff. We laugh.”

“I’m through laughing at any of this.”

“You and readers.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Come rage. Bring your Santamonster.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“The summit’s over, y’know. So we can stop this.”

But I have more pictures.

“Die.”

One day.

The World Hangs In The Balance

“Hi-vis or hi-Visvim?”

Very clever.

“I kid, of course. Cops couldn’t afford my clothes. This jacket? Four grand.”

Why?

“So that only rich people can wear it. Duh.”

How foolish of me.

“Dude, between you and me?”

Sure.

“This white guy’s a mess.”

He is, right?

“There’s no skew to him. Completely askew.”

He looks like Alex Jones and current-day Val Kilmer had a baby, and then ate the baby and fused together into a super-bloated dude, and then became a cop.

“I guess, okay.”

So how’s the tour going?

“Really well! We’re doing some new numbers and Bobby is in great–”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“–voice and…you didn’t care about the tour. You were lulling me into a false sense of security before some maniacal idiot calls me, weren’t you?”

Yes. Exactly what you said.

“Asshole.”

Again: you are correct.

“This is John Mayer.”

“What the fuck, bro? That’s how you answer the phone? I been getting death threats and that’s how you answer the phone? What the…I don’t…”

“Who is this and why are you crying?”

“It’s the Worm. I’m on CNN. Say hi to Chris Cuomo.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve just been informed that John Mayer is on the line.”

“Goddammit.”

“John, can you lay out for the audience what your thoughts on the Trump/Kim summit are?”

“Um, not really.”

“I’ll speak for John, Chris.”

“Dennis Rodman does not speak for me, Chris.”

“What John means to say is that he loves Kim Jong-Un, because President Kim has a good heart. You hear all these things in the fake news about starving or nukes or this and that and all of that is because very powerful players want North Korea to be the bad guy. But he’s not the bad guy…he’s just not…why do you all talk so bad about my Kimmy Jay…I can’t…I just can’t….”

“John Mayer, 1991’s NBA Defensive Player of the Year Dennis Rodman is once again crying over his love for North Korean dictator Kim Jong-Un. Your thoughts?”

“I think I’m gonna hang up the phone.”

“Is Bobby there? Maybe Bob Weir has a hot take on the summit.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Why do you do this to me?”

Boredom, jealousy, irascibility.

“Stop it.”

No.

“Please?”

Okay.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Dick!”

Yup.

“What?”

“This how answer phone? Is not cool.”

“Dammit. Hey, Kim Jong-Un.”

“You talk to Worm? We hook up later. Rage so hard.”

“Sounds fun.”

“That guy fucks.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Like force of nature. Ruins bitches.”

“Let’s not get misogynist here.”

“Tough not to here. Is capital of sin.”

“Singapore? No. It’s like the opposite of that. They cane you for chewing gum in Singapore. You’re thinking of Bangkok.”

“For realsies?”

“Yup.”

“Motherfucker. I have schedulers starved to death.”

“Good idea.”

“You come here, Little Potato. You , me, Worm, ‘Ye. We all party.”

“No, I’m not going to…wait. ‘Ye is there?”

“He with Worm.”

“COME TO SINGAPORE, LITTLE POTATO. I DID NOT BRING ANY OF MY MEDICATION AND HAVE MANY IDEAS.”

“My man ‘Ye…people say such bad things about him, but I know what a kind soul he has…why do they say such horrible things…it makes me so sad…I just can’t…I can’t….”

“DENNIS RODMAN’S TEARS ARE MADE OF WIZARDS.”

“I’m hanging up again.”

“BILLIONAIRES ARE SELLING FLAMETHROWERS AND THAT IS A THING THAT IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING.”

“Hot Dog Dick?”

“You’re still on the line?”

“Am always listening. You come. We rage. Want to come in to the summit? I say you are translator. Dotard believe.”

“I don’t want to pretend to be your translator.”

“Father invent translator.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

“I’m not answering the phone again tonight.”

Aw.

An Enduring Friendship

What are you doing?

“Sitting quietly. Trying not to make any facial expressions.”

Why not?

“Emotions cause wrinkles.”

True. I like your big-boy suit.

“This is a Tom Ford.”

You borrowed your suit?

“No. He’s the designer. Very expensive.”

Bitchin’. Hey, lemme ask you a question.

“Okay.”

Shouldn’t Captain America be at least Major America by now? He’s been a captain for 75 years.

“I think it’s more of a code name than an actual rank.”

Maybe.

“Could be worse. He could get busted down and become Lieutenant America.”

Oh, that’s awful.

“And virtually impossible to spell. Plus, everyone would call him ‘Loo.’ Like they call him ‘Cap’ now?”

Ugh.

“Why can’t we just get along like this all the time? I mean, if you’re not going to simply leave me alone, which is my first choice.”

Y’know, you’re right. We should be nicer to each other.

“I’m perfectly decent to you. You’re the dick in this relationship. Don’t ‘Both Sides’ this shit here.”

Takes two to tangle.

“Tango.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

Don’t correct me.

“I despise you.”

Yeah, yeah.

“This is John Mayer. I’m wearing a suit.”

“Guess who coming to Florida, Little Potato?”

“Shit.”

“Kim Jong-Un all ready for fun in sun.”

“You’re not coming to Florida.”

“I do whole state. Disney, Key West, Art Basel.”

“You are not going to Art Basel.”

“Father invent Art Basel.”

“Dude, this is not going to happen and you know it. Dumbass didn’t really invite you to Florida.”

“Hear him say. Kim Jong-Un trust Dotard. Man of word.”

“We’re talking about Donald Trump, right?”

“Honorable. Clearly intelligent. Truly my equal.”

“You’re just seeing how far you can push this trolling, aren’t you?”

“Is for the lulz.”

“Got it. You’re not planning on dismantling any of your nuclear program, are you?”

“No! Kim Jong-Un dismantle!”

“Oh. Okay.”

“And then when Round-Eyes leave room, Kim Jong-Un put back together.”

“There it is.”

“I mantle.”

“That’s not how that word works.”

“Let’s hear you speak Only Korean.”

“Touche.”

“You come down. We go to EPCOT. Start fights with Japanese tourists.”

“Pass.”

“I kidnap.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Is he gonna kidnap me again?”

Probably.

“Fuck you.”

Yeah, yeah.

Stagelight Serenader

Jesus.

“What?”

Don’t sing to men.

“That’s awfully homophobic of you.”

Dude, if you want to blow Andy Cohen, blow Andy Cohen. I’ll cheer you on and wipe the slobber out of your butt-chin. Fist him. I don’t care. Fist him again, like you did last summer. Fisting time is here. Go nuts on his nuts, and I’ll say, “Good for you.” But don’t sing to another man.

“You are a deeply uptight man in a lot of weird ways.”

You’re just figuring this out?

“Go away. I’m celebrating my friend’s 50th birthday.”

Andy’s 50?

“Yup.”

And yet he looks younger than you.

“He doesn’t.”

Just in the face. And probably with his clothes off.

“You can’t bother me. I’m rich and famous and have rich, famous friends and millions of Instagram followers and clothes from all over the world.”

Under you chin is getting saggy.

“WHERE? MIRROR!”

“You need to leave me alone.”

We’re buddies.

“We’re not. I hang out with millionaires and designers and Dave Chapelle. I banged Bebe Rexha the other night.”

How do you pronounce that?

“Y’know what? I have no idea. Just called her ‘Tushycakes’ the entire night.”

Nice work. Who else you been sticking it in lately? You’re quiet in the gossip columns.

“Both Darlenes.”

What?

“From Roseanne. Both Darlenes.”

Wow. That’s impressive.

“At once.”

WOW.

“Right? It’s like getting Eiffel Towered by both Darrens from Bewitched.”

You’re living the dream, Meyers.

“Mayer.”

Stop singing to men.

“No.”

Steal Andy’s brown shoes and tell him it’s for his own good.

“Why would I do that?”

For his own good. Brown shoes are for guys who manage malls in Ohio.

“I’m just gonna stop talking to you.”

Sure.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I hate you.”

You have every reason.

“Johnny M. speaking.”

“Are you serenadin’ homos, Jew Boy?”

“Dammit.”

“Ah can see ev’rything with mah super-peepers. Ah’m like Hillbilly Heimdall.”

“I’m singing my friend a song.”

“Degeneracy reigns in California! Hot darn, you sissyboys out there set mah mustache to quiverin’.”

“I have several products that could take care of that.”

“Ah am a Christian, sir, and Ah take mah ablutions via scour.”

“Scour?”

“There’s a Little League field by mah house. Ah go out there at night and rub mahself against first base f’r a while.”

“Not recommended.”

“It’s in the Bible.”

“I don’t think the Bible mentions Little League.”

“How would you know ’bout the Holy Bible, Delicatessen Breath?”

“For the ninth or tenth time: I’m not Jewish.”

“Ah c’n smell the usury all over you, boy.”

“Wow.”

“Why aren’t you singin’ the National Anthem?”

“For a bunch of reasons.”

“One bein’ that you hate America. Another ungrateful millionaire who burns down VFW halls in his spare time.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You’re disinvited t’ the White House!”

“I wasn’t invited in the first place.”

“Well, you ain’t comin’ now, and black unemployment is down.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Tell Andy Ah like his shoes.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“I want you to cease all contact with me.”

Get your lawyer, Delicatessen Breath.

Love, Elevator

Hey, Josh. Look at you and your buddy, the Andyman.

“I can hear you.”

Quiet, Andy. Josh–

“Why does he call you Josh?”

–you can’t take Melania on tour with you. It’ll get out of hand immediately.

“Melania Trump? John, why is the booming voice that originates from outside reality talking about Melania Trump being on tour? Dead & Company tour?”

She stowed away in a road case, Andy Cohen.

“Is this true, John?’

It is, Andy. Very observant of you.

“I’m not gonna hire you or anything.”

SHWZZOP!

“Did you just send Andy Cohen to the Castle of All Tears?”

Yes.

“Dude, stop being a dick to my friends.”

I’ll bring him back if you get rid of Melania. She absolutely cannot be hanging around Dead & Company Summer Tour 2018. I don’t want you guys to be in play. Like, in a media sense. The less people examine Billy’s background, the better it is for the Dead’s legacy.

“I’m handling it.”

If the Dead wind up in the Problem Attic because of you, so help me God I’ll strangle you with your own enormously-crotched pants.

“I’m handling it!”

DING

“Ah, shit. How did you get into my hotel room?”

“Vith my charm, Lover Man.”

“And you redecorated.”

“Melania makes vherever she is home.”

“It looks like Staten Island threw up.”

“I do not know vhat is this Staten Island. Now come to Melania. Let me lay under you vhile you thrust.”

“You are the single least sexy human on the planet.”

“Sveat on me, Lover Man.”

Dude, this is not handling it.

“I’m handling it!”

So That’s Where She’s Been…

I’m gonna tell you right now: if you pull that “disappearing without a trace because it’s drizzling” shit on me, I’ll have the North Korean army track you down.

“Only Korean.”

You know what I mean. Who are these people?

“Oh, let me introduce the room. This is–”

Wait. I just remembered that I don’t care.

“You’re rude.”

I’m not. Tell Princess Doofus that her haircut makes her look like a doofus.

“I won’t tell her that.”

C’mon. If you say it, she’ll like it.

“She won’t.”

“Psst.”

“Was that you?”

No.

“Psst.”

“It’s coming from a road case.”

Open it.

“Oh, shit. Um, everyone out. Nice hanging with you, but you gotta go. Let’s go.”

HIPSTERS SHUFFLING OUT NOISE

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Hide me, Josh Meyers. I cannot go back there.”

“I understand you not wanting to live with him–”

“Soggy Man. I call him Soggy Man.”

“–with the Soggy Man, but you can’t stay here.”

“Is last place they vould look.”

“Yeah, okay, you have a good point there, but still.”

“I vill tour vith Grateful Dead. Get head straight. Also, I vill collect $300 that Matt Busch owes me.”

“How do you know Matt Busch?”

“Is long story. You vill hide me, Josh!”

“John.”

“Maybe I vill vork for tour.”

“Doing what?”

“Do you need trophy vife?”

“No.”

“First Lady?”

“Dead & Company does not need a First Lady. Listen, Melania, just leave him if you’re so unhappy.”

“I cannot! He vill send Rudy Giuliani after me vith his clawfingers and veird eyeballs! Or Sarah Sanders vith her fat arms and veird eyeballs. Josh?”

“Yes?”

“Vhy he have so many people vith veird eyeballs vorking for him?”

“Just a coincidence, I guess.”

“See! You understand me, Josh Meyers. Now come help Melania out of trenchcoat.”

“Um…”

“Is easy. Just a button or two.”

“Um, Mrs. Trump, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Shh. Come to First Lady.”

“Oh, this won’t end well.”

From Boys To Mendes

Hey. Humbert Humbert.

“I don’t get the reference.”

Don’t worry about it.

“Have you ever longed?”

I don’t want to have this conversation with you.

“Yearned?”

Or that one.

“Wanted to kidnap your two-decades-younger doppelganger and use sex magick to steal his dewiness?’

You don’t know any sex magick.

“I can make my penis disappear.”

Not a trick.

“Is this your card?”

SIX OF CLUBS DISPLAYING NOISE

No.

“What about this?”

AMERICAN EXPRESS TITANIUM CARD DISPLAYING NOISE

That’s not how card tricks work.

“I know. I just wanted to show you how rich I was.”

Josh–

“Don’t call me that.”

–if you wanna fuck the kid, fuck the kid. Honestly, a little bisexuality would do wonders for your career.

“Oh, no. I’d shoot straight to pansexuality.”

What’s the difference?

“None that I can tell, but pansexual sounds so much fancier.”

Leave Shawn Mendes alone. He has innocuous music to make.

“He just makes me feel so young. Mostly when I’m feeling him.”

Is this relationship consensual?

“Depends on how you define ‘consensual.’ If you mean ‘with sensuality,’ then it totally is.”

I meant: Are you sexually harassing Shawn Mendes?

“No. Yes. A little. Lemme put it this way: if we were on a sitcom together, I would have been fired weeks ago.”

Stop it.

“It’ll be fine.”

Do we need to have our little pre-Dead & Company tour talk again?

“No.”

If you get the Dead sucked into this #METOO thing, I will hunt you the fuck down, Meyers. We cannot have journalists digging into the Dead’s sexual histories.

“Dude, it’s cool. Everything’s cool.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

Who is that? I did not make that happen.

“I get calls from people who aren’t homicidal dictators, y’know.”

Okay. Who is it?

“Ronan Farrow.”

Goddamn you, Josh Meyers.

A New (Korean) Light

“Hold Kim Jong-Un closer, tiny dancer.”

“Okay, we should maybe–”

“Count headlight on highway.”

“Please stop singing.”

“Love you, Moonie.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Looooooove you.”

“I think we should stop hugging now.”

“Never stop hugging my guy.

“Really, I think we should–”

“Reach in pocket, Moon Man. Have surprise.”

“I don’t want to reach into your pocket.”

“You like. Is tasty.”

“There’s lunch waiting for us.”

“This no will be at lunch. Reach.”

“I don’t want to–”

“I tell you. Is pirogi. Polish dumpling.”

“I know what a pirogi is.”

“Is like mandoo, but Polish. Has so much yum in such little space.”

“Again, I know what–”

“Father invent Poland.”

“We really should get to the meeting.”

“Meeting so important. Kim Jong-Un love to meet. Hold on one second.”

“Why am I–”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Bud Light Fan John Mayer here.”

“Hot Dog Dick! You get endorsement?”

“It’s a one-time thing.”

“You sell out, bro.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘selling out’ any more. Now it’s a ‘Brand Team-Up.'”

“Boo. You sell-out. Kim Jong-Un no run through halls of high school no more.”

“Sad to hear that. Why are you calling?”

“You want talk Moon Jae-In?”

“Does he design sneakers?”

“Is president South Korea.”

“Oh. Then, uh, no.”

“Good call. Is no fun.”

“Wait, are you having a summit right now?”

“As speak.”

“Dude, you should be doing that.”

“Kim Jong-Un multi-task.”

“Go talk to Blue Moon.”

“Blue Moon! Is good! I call that. Smell you later.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Hey, Blue Moon.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Kim Jong-Um no come up with. Credit where credit due. My boy John Mayer write. He so creative.”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Is okay. Kim Jong-Un brought computer. Play Moon new video. Is ironic!”

“We have more important–”

“Moon watch Hot Dog Dick video or die in nuclear holocaust.”

“Fine.”

Pyongyang, Do I Declare

Why aren’t you at Dead & Company rehearsal?

“Dude, this content isn’t going to provide itself.”

Uh-huh.

“Do you think I should start a beef with Lil Tay?”

I think you should get to Mill Valley and rehearse.

“Ugh. They’re all so old, man.”

Jeff and Oteil are younger than you.

“Both of them are in their 50’s.”

Right. You’re, what, a youthful 54?

“I see what you’re doing and it’s not working.”

That forehead of yours is getting some furrows in it.

“It is not.”

Maybe a little ‘tox? Little bit of ‘tox?

“Botox doesn’t work for me.”

Why not?

“Because after I get the injections, I can’t do my guitar faces.”

Makes sense.

“The kids love the faces.”

They do.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“We were kind of getting along.”

I know. Just free-floating aggression.

“I should hire someone to hurt you.”

Give me the money; I’ll do it myself.

“John Mayer, Maker of Content.”

“Hot Dog Dick! You read papers?”

“I read Variety, Buzzfeed, and sometimes my accountant tells me the hockey scores.”

“Summit cancelled. Dotard call off. Kim Jong-Un so sad.”

“Is that why you’re at the water park?”

“Some sadness, only water park can fix.”

“Well, I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to working towards peace.”

“Peace!? Ha! Hot Dog Dick is funny. Triple threat. Guitar, friendship, humor. So talent.”

“You didn’t want peace?”

“No. Want to humiliate Creamsicle Face.”

“Can’t you leave him alone?”

“Is too much fun. He like wind-up doll made of stupidity and french fries.”

“True.”

“Father invent french fries.”

“Can I go? I have an ironic video that I have to promote.”

“We still doing irony? It 1998 again?”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

“Can I opt out?”

Go to rehearsal.

Mayer And Son

You’re just gonna take that?

“Take what?”

The kid’s dominating you.

“He’s not.”

He’s looming over you like Batman standing over a piss trough.

“Weird analogy.”

You’re the piss trough.

“I got it, but it’s still unpleasant.”

Why are you seated?

“Want to.”

Uh-huh. Trick knee acting up?

“I don’t have a trick knee.”

It gets all achy when it rains. It’s okay, Josh.

“Don’t call me that.”

Sir?

“DON’T CALL ME…I see what you’re doing, and it’s not right. I’m not old.”

41 in a few months. How’s your bird?

“My what?”

Your tool. Your schvantz. Your pecker.

“It’s fine. He’s great.”

Can you still hang a towel off your boner?

“I haven’t tried in a while.”

DON’T YOU LIE TO ME, FUCKER.

“It stays on if I keep my butt clenched up.”

Yeah, see, that’s the first sign. Bird loses its feathers.

“Dude, don’t worry about me. I’m still young, I’m still hot, I’m still banging pop stars.”

Who now?

“Camilla Cabello. Very sexy.”

How old is she?

“She’s very mature.”

Uh-huh. Lemme ask you something.

“Shoot.”

Does she remember Aretha Franklin?

“I’m sure she’s aware of Aretha.”

Can you dance together?

“I see what you’re doing.”

Can you talk at all?

“Stop it.”

Dude, you’re literally a Steely Dan song. I don’t know any surer sign that a white man is getting older than becoming a Steely Dan lyric. Maybe becoming a Paul Simon lyric.

“None of what you’re saying is true. I’m content with my age, and I am as young as ever. I appeal to the youth market.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“What!? What did I say?”

Nothing. I just wanna wrap this up.

“Asshole.”

“The very young John Mayer.”

“One month, Hot Dog Dick!”

“Goddammit.”

“Whole world come to Only Korea. Watch Kim Jong-Un dunk balls in Kim Jong Don’s ass-mouth.”

“I don’t think the meeting’s gonna happen. Wait. ‘Kim Jong-Don?'”

“Is new rule. Everyone named Kim Jong now. You should be Kim Jong-Little Potato, but I let you slide because we bros.”

“Thank you.”

“Call you Hot Dog Dick”

“Y’know, maybe I’ll start making up nicknames for you.”

“Huh. Okay. And maybe someone throw radioactive acid in your face next time you in airport.”

“Kim Jong-Un it is.”

“You like hat?”

“Eh.”

“Is no fedora. Is trilby.”

“I know.”

“People get wrong. Look sexy with hat. Chicks dig. You come to summit in June. We do like you and Chapelle.”

“What?”

“During meeting. You bring guitar. Jam while talk. Respond to conversation with musical emphases.”

“No.”

“Father invent Dave Chapelle.”

“He didn’t. I have to go.”

“Hot Dog Dick, why you no tell me you have twink?”

“He’s not my twink. He’s my friend.”

“You should fuck. Kim Jong Un not gay, but Kim Jong Un would destroy.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“He no walk right after me.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

“I officially want out of this website.”

Fuck, no. Summer tour’s coming up. If anything, your part will be expanding.”

“Goddammit.”

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