Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: john mayer (Page 19 of 42)

Pink Is My Brand-New Obsession

February 19, 2017 / / 4 Comments

Really?

“Sexy.”

No.

“Sleek.”

I guess.

“Sassy.”

Hell, yeah. Definitely sassy. Looks like something you would see in Sassy, which if you’ll recall was a magazine for teen girls.

“You’re a hater.”

And if you squatted down and smoked a cigarette, you’d be a gay Russian teenager. We arrive at an impasse. Why are you here? It’s not Summer Tour yet; I don’t have to pay attention to you for months.

“I wanted to show you my clothes.”

What do you even wear that to?

“It’s mostly for shopping for other clothes.”

Good idea. You need something else to wear.

“I can’t wait to wash this.”

KARATE!

Shit.

“AH HAVE DEFEATED TH’ PINK PANTHER!”

That was not the Pink Panther, Elvis.

“THEN WHAT TH’ FUCK WAS IT?”

A 40-year-old man in a fuzzy pink tracksuit.

“HE DESERVED WHAT HE GOT.”

True.

“NOW BRING ME T’ HAIRY GARCIA!”

Well, you just kicked the guy in the Grateful Dead who does all the soloing now. Does that count?

“NO. AH MUST HAVE MAH SHOWDOWN. AN’ AH GOTTA HAVE SOME TWINKETTIS.”

Twinkettis?

“TWINKIES WITH SPAGHETTI SHOVED IN ‘EM. THEN YOU SOAK THE WHOLE THING IN BUTTER AN’ FRY IT UP ‘TIL IT’S CRUNCHY.”

That sounds awful.

“MAYBE GONNA GET ME SOME O’ MISS MARY’S SPECIAL PECAN COOKIES.”

Well, that sounds all right.

“THEY GOT PORK IN ‘EM.”

Why?

“COMPLEMENTS TH’ PECAN.”

It doesn’t.

“THEN AH’M GONNA TUCK INNA SOME HOMINY GRISTLE. L’IL BITTA FATBACK. THEN AH COULD POSSIBLY SCOOP TH’ BACON GREASE OUTTA THE COFFEE CAN MISS MARY KEEPS IT IN.”

Don’t eat any of that, Elvis.

“FINISH UP WITH A SALAD.”

Really?

“YEAH, MAN. BOWL FULL O’ PILLS WITH GREEN SPRINKLES MIXED IN. EAT IT WITH A SPOON, MAN. GOES DOWN EASY, ‘CEPT WHEN AH PASS OUT AN’ CHARLIE HODGE HAS T’ FISH HALF-CHEWED SAN’WICHES OUTTA MAH THROAT.”

King, you have to stop eating like this.

“THIS HERE IS A PRESCRIBED DIET! YOU KNOW TH’ OL’ SAYIN’: ‘STARVE A COLD, FEED A FEVER, DRINK STRAIGHT CHICKEN GRAVY FOR TH’ HEEBIE-JEEBIES.'”

Only the first part of that is a saying, and even that’s wrong. Why won’t you take care of yourself?

“GREAT MAN DONE GOT GREAT DESIRES, BOY! AH AM TH’ BABE RUTH OF SINGIN’ AN’ KARATE AN’ AH WILL EAT A DOZEN HOT DOGS IN BETWEEN INNINGS IF AH WANT!”

Okay, but he died at 53.

“AN’ LOU GEHRIG DRANK MILK AN’ WENT T’ BED EARLY. HE DIED AT 37. CHECKMATE.”

Yeah, you’ll probably live forever.

“WE BOTH KNOW THAT AH WILL.”

Only Scratching The Surface

February 11, 2017 / / 0 Comments

Did you know that? I mean: it is Thump News reporting it. It’s a neat little trick–first he plays the four chords from every EDM song, and then he whacks on the strings like a bass drum; it sounds pretty nifty–but it’s by no means John Mayer’s only neat trick.

What other talents does our own Josh Meyers have?

  • John Mayer can withdraw money from an ATM using only his bank card.
  • Can add more hot water to his tub using only his toes.
  • Can get from Miami to Montreal using only I-95.
  • Can dress himself using only a team of stylists.
  • Can forget what he saw that time he walked into Billy’s dressing room without knocking using only copious amounts of alcohol.
  • Can kill a baby seal using only a truncheon.
  • Can find his bliss using only his heart. (No, sorry: that’s Bobby.)
  • Can identify the ripest heirloom tomato using only his extensive knowledge of heirloom tomatoes.
  • Can smile using only his eyes.
  • Can hand-wash his delicates using only the finest artisanal laundry detergents.
  • Can bang starlets using only his penis.

Yakkety Yak, Don’t Bring Sexy Back

February 3, 2017 / / 1 Comment

“And we’re back on the air with the Radio Randy show on the SiriusXM Grateful Dead Channel, number 23 on your dial. Our guest is Bob Weir.”

“It’s probably for the best I’m on this station, Randy. I got thrown off Jamie Foxx’s comedy channel.”

“Why, Bob?”

“Billy wrote my material.”

“Sure. You were recently in Mexico with Bill Kreutzmann. Tell us about Los Muertos con Queso.”

“I can’t eat it front of my sister-in-law.”

“Lillian Monster.”

“Yeah. She starts whipping bullhorns at your head if you look like you’re enjoying your food.”

“She is a vegan.”

“How’d you hear?”

“She’s broken into the studio a number of times.”

“Ah.”

“Last month, she chained herself to David Gans to protest pet bullying.”

“Pet bullying?”

“Calling your dog fat, gaslighting your cat.”

“Right, yeah. Once, I pretended to throw the tennis ball to my dog, and she picketed Thanksgiving.”

“So, how did you find Mexico, Bob?”

“I went south, and there it was.”

“How were the crowds?”

“On the other side of a fence from me.”

“Did you enjoy the food?”

“Except one meal, yeah.”

“Bob, let’s take a call.”

“You bet.”

“John in Los Angeles, you’re on with Radio Randy and Bob Weir.”

“Bobby, can my friend Justin be a Grateful Dead, too?”

“Who is this?”

…

“Josh.”

“Hey, Josh. Your friend has to go back to his own band.”

“But I already told him he could!”

“Well, you shouldn’t have done that, huh?”

“Pleeeeease?”

“Nope. I don’t know why you’re asking me for anything when you haven’t taken the garbage out.”

“I said I’d do it!”

“Now’s a good time.”

“I SAID I’D DO IT! God, you’re so mean!”

“You’d better straighten up and fly right before the tour, or so help me.”

“So help you what?”

“Excuse me!?

“Nothing.”

“Don’t make me take off my sandal!”

“I WISH I WAS NEVER BORN!”

“You just wait til your Irving Azoff gets home, young man.”

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

“That got weird.”

“Kid’s got so much potential, Randy. He’s soloing at an 11th-grade level, but he just won’t put in the effort.”

“Kids.”

“What can you do?”

The Unexpected Return Of Radio Randy

January 26, 2017 / / 4 Comments

“Good evening everyone out there listening to SiriusXM. You’re tuned in to Channel 23: the Grateful Dead Channel. This is Radio Randy on the air live from the Sundance Film Festival where Bob Weir, along with Mickey Hart and Bill Kreutzmann, will be premiering their new four-hour documentary about the Dead’s career. Bobby, thanks for being here.”

“You bet. Josh told me Elvis killed you.”

“He did. Bobby, tell us about the movie.”

“A trio of disgraced professors go into business for themselves busting ghosts.”

“I should have been more specific. Tell us about your movie.”

“Same answer.”

“If you were a woodland creature, what would you be?”

“Elk.”

“Good call.”

“Majestic, but fearsome.”

“Is the altitude at the festival affecting you?”

“No, but the longitude is killing me.”

“Bobby, the Radio Randy show on SiriusXM Channel 23 has a lot of younger listeners. What advice do you have for them?”

“Pony isn’t a baby horse. It’s not gonna get bigger, and you’re not gonna make your investment back entering it into the Kentucky Derby. Trust me on this one.”

“Wisdom.”

“And, uh, conversely: there’s no such thing as a teacup pig. Not a thing. Just not a thing. Pigs get goddamned enormous. Again: trust me on this one.”

“I will.”

“And, you know, you gotta take care of the thing or your bullhorn-toting, bacon-hating, racecar-driving human picket line of a sister-in-law–”

“Lilian Monster.”

“–will make your life miserable. 500 pounds! Don’t get me wrong, I love the sucker, but he’s eating me out of house and home.”

“What’s the pig’s name, Bob?”

“The girls named him.”

“What’s the pig’s name, Bob?”

“Humperdink.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Not worth the effort. Billy keeps trying to steal him and have a luau.”

“We’re learning a lot about life, the Grateful Dead, and inadvertent pet ownership here on the Radio Randy show.”

“Did you steal that microphone?”

“Yes. You want to take a call?”

“Why not?”

“This is a blocked caller who says his name is none of my business. Hello?”

“привет, гомосексуалисты.”

“Look what Putin have.”

“Give that back!”

“No, Яadio Яandy. Is for Putin. America is for Putin. All for Putin now.”

“Damn you, Putin!”

“Putin win. Ha ha ha. Putin number one. Grateful Dead number zero.”

“BASTARD!”

ТЕЛЕФОН ШУМА ХОТЯ ТЕЛЕФОНЫ НЕ ДЕЛАЙ, ЧТО БОЛЬШЕ

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, Bobby.”

“I’m not wearing headphones. I didn’t hear any of that.”

“For the best. Tell the audience what your hopes are for the movie.”

“I just want the movie to be happy, get married.”

“Do you cross-country ski, Bob?”

“No, I fly.”

“This is great stuff on the Radio Randy show. How about another call?”

“How about it?”

“We have a call from Los Angeles. It’s John. John in Los Angeles, how are you? Welcome to the show. You’re talking to Radio Randy and Bob Weir.”

“What the fuck, Radio Randy?”

“Oh, hey! It’s John Mayer, ladies and gentlemen. Bobby’s bandmate from Dead & Company. This is great. Bob, I have John on the line.”

“Who?”

“It’s Josh, Bobby.”

“Oh, hey, Josh.”

“Hi. Radio Randy, I’m in the SiriusXM studios. We had an interview scheduled.”

“Oh, gee, sorry. Listen, I’m sorry. Why don’t you take some pens?”

“I don’t need pens. This is unprofessional as hell, man.”

“You’re right. Sorry. Take some post-it notes, too.”

“I don’t need any–”

“Stapler. Take a stapler.”

“–post-it notes. Are you trying to buy me off with office supplies?”

“Nooooo. NO. No.”

…

“All the rubber bands. Take them and do with them what you will.”

“Don’t call me any more, Radio Randy.”

“Don’t get me killed by Elvis any more, pretty boy.”

“FUCK YOU, RADIO RANDY!”

“FUCK YOU, JOSH MEYERS!”

“YOU DON’T GET TO CALL ME THAT! ONLY BOBBY GETS TO CALL ME THAT!”

“Hey, Josh.”

“Hey, Bobby.”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

“Bobby, do you have any last thoughts before we go?”

“We must destroy Carthage.”

“This is Radio Randy for SiriusXM Channel 23 singing off. Good night, human kindness; wherever you are.”

For Elvis In Blue Jeans

January 7, 2017 / / 3 Comments

What the hell is this?

“ALL OF MAH CAPES ARE AT THE DRY CLEANERS.”

Occupational hazard.

“THIS IS CHARLIE HODGE’S BED.”

You mean his blanket.

“NEVER CORRECT YOUR KING! THIS IS CHARLIE HODGE’S ENTIRE BEDDING! AH MAKE HIM SLEEP ON THE FLOOR AT THE TOP OF THE STEPS.”

Sounds right.

“HE DEFENDS MAH HOME OF GRACELAND AGAINST INCURSION BY COMMUNIST OR ALIEN. PLUS, SOMETIMES MAH SHIFTY, SMELLY, WALL-EYED, THREE-BALLED CHICKEN-RAPIST OF A DADDY–”

Vernon.

“–VERNON DONE TRIPS OVER CHARLIE HODGE, AND FALLS DOWN THE STAIRS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. THIS AMUSES THE KING.”

You have an earthy sense of humor.

“AH AM A KING OF THE PEOPLE.”

Right. Wow, those are big bell-bottoms.

“AH HAVE MANY GUNS IN MY PANTS.”

Oh.

CELL PHONE NOISE

Is that you?

“AH DO NOT CARRY A CELL PHONE. THEM THINGS SHOOT JEWISH BEAMS INTO YOUR SKULL.”

I heard that. Must be me. Lemme answer this.

“IF THASS THE PHARMACY, TELL ‘EM TO SEND OVER THE USUAL.”

Okay.

…

Hello?

“You doing Thoughts on the King now?”

Oh. Hello, Mayer.

“So, how you been?”

Good.

…

“You don’t wanna ask me how–”

Eh.

“–I’ve been? Wow. Rude. And I’ve been so busy: so many wonderful new career firsts.”

Why are you sweaty?

“Another first. I tried crystal meth tonight.”

Yeah?

“I really like it. Have any states legalized recreational meth use?”

There’s no such thing as “recreational” meth use.

“Great, awesome. So, you know: I heard that Elvis and Katy had showed up.”

Yup.

“And I just figured there’d be a part for me. Something crazy, one of your little adventures.”

Nope.

…

“You’re being kind of a dick, man.”

Well, I’m sorry, John: you’re four months early. When Summer Tour rolls around, I’ll pay attention to you and your outfits; not now.

“Jesus.”

You want me to lie to you?

“What does Elvis say?”

About what?

“Me. Being in the storyline.”

What storyline? There’s nothing happening. There’s no plot.

“That’s never stopped you before. I want in. Ask the King.”

Fine. Elvis?

BANG!

BANG!

Holy shit! Did you just shoot at me?

“YOU HAVE THE KING’S APOLOGIES. AH DID NOT MEAN TO FIRE UPON YOU. I WAS LETTIN’ LOOSE A MIGHTY KICK OF KARATE WHEN ONE OF THE GUNS IN MY BELL-BOTTOMS WENT OFF BY ACCIDENT

There were two shots.

“AH ALSO SHOT AT YOU ON PURPOSE.”

Goddammit, Elvis, you can’t shoot at people.

“THASS WHERE YOU’RE WRONG: AH SHOOT AT PEOPLE ALL THE DAMN TIME. IT IS CALLED NOBLES OBLIGE. MEANS AH C’N DO WHATEVER AH WANT.”

No, it means the opposite of that.

“AH WILL CONTINUE FIRING PISTOLS AT PEOPLE WHO DISPLEASE AND/OR STARTLE ME.”

Great, okay, whatever. Hey, John Mayer’s being a pain in the ass. You want him in the storyline?

“WHO?”

Josh Meyers.

“PASS.”

Okee-doke. You hear that, John?

“Aw.”

Plans And Schemes And American Dreams

December 7, 2016 / / 3 Comments

bobby-jm-xmas-2016

“Josh, how are my eyes?”

“Good, Bob. Not red at all. Mine?”

“They’ll never know.”

“Cheese.”

“Cheese.”

CAMERA PHONE NOISE

…

“You’re, uh, not doing it any more?”

“Hand on chin?”

“Yeah. You were doing it last year with me.”

“I know, Bob.”

“You said you had a good time.”

“I did! But I like to keep it loose.”

“Little too loose.”

“Bob!”

“Well, you know, Josh: you put no effort into the picture at all. I did hand on chin, and this is my bad shoulder.”

“I thought it was the other one.”

…

“That’s not the point.”

“Bob, I don’t wanna fight. Let’s have dinner.”

“Will you be able to get the food to your mouth? Seem to have a problem with that movement.”

“You’re obsessed.”

“I thought we had a thing.”

…

“You think people will notice–”

“Your little checkered bandana, yeah.”

“–my checkered…okay, cool.”

Mercury In Retrograde

November 6, 2016 / / 0 Comments

jm-phish-unicorn-cu-jpg

Oh, there you are. Where’d you go? I was worried about you. How’d the fight go?

“Between the multicorn and the Freddies Mercury?”

Isn’t it weird that that sentence makes sense?

“A little, yeah. But, uh, it was only a fight for a little bit.”

Orgy?

“Full-on.”

Hey, that’s great. You got laid in Vegas.

“I always get laid in Vegas. Never like that.”

Freaky?

“The Freddies share a hivemind.”

I assumed.

“And a hiveboner.”

I did not assume that. I don’t even think I understand that.

“It’s complicated. And veiny.”

Sure.

“And hairy.”

Freddie didn’t seem like a manscaper.

“I lost my watch in his bush.”

So you’re saying that your first Phish Halloween show was not a great experience.

“Some good stuff happened.”

Like?

“I’m joining Queen.”

They have a guitarist, and he’s better than you.

“Ow.”

Sorry, but true.

“I know, but it still hurts. Anyway, I’m not going to be the guitarist. I want to be a frontman like Freddie.”

You can’t be.

“Why not?”

Queen songs don’t sound good sung in an American accent.

“Yeah?”

Or through your nose.

“You’re a dick.”

You’re already in nine bands and you have so much laundry to do.

“You have to stay on top of it.”

Stop joining bands. Just be rich and bang pop stars and wear clothes. You’re a Grateful Dead now, John Mayer, because 2016 is trying to kill us all, so just be happy with what you have.

“But he wants it all, darling!”

“Oh, no.”

freddie-mercury-phish-2

“And he wants it NOOOOOOWWW!”

Oh, those pipes.

“Thank you, darling. I’m often complimented on my plumbing.”

“Freddie, I…where are the others?”

“Rampaging through the crowd like sexual wolverines.”

“Of course. Listen, Freddie: I don’t think this is going to work out. We’re just in different places in life. And I’m not gay. And you died 25 years ago. That last one probably should’ve gone first.”

“Forbidden love! Wonderful, darling. I’ll be Romeo, and you be Mercutio.”

“You mean Juliet.”

“Shakespeare cut out a whole sub-plot. It was a plot about how Mercutio was the sub: sub-plot.”

“Clever.”

“Darling, do you like comic books?”

“I guess. Why?”

“Because I’m going to show you my thing, and then it’s rogering time!”

“Goddammit.”

Can I watch?

“No!”

“I insist!”

Yay.

You’re About To Learn A New Word

November 5, 2016 / / 1 Comment

jm-unicorn-phish-2

Stand up straight.

“Please leave me alone.”

Unicorns don’t slouch. They’re known for their posture.

“That’s Mickey.”

And unicorns. Don’t argue with me on this: I used to lie about having a Master’s in Cryptequinology.

“Cryptequinology?’

The study of made-up horses.

“Big field?”

Unicorns, centaurs, zebras, my little ponies.

“Zebras are real.”

Nope. CG.

“I’ve seen them at zoos.”

Hard-light holograms. I thought you were hanging out backstage with Mike Gordon.

“There was a problem.”

Oh, no.

“I got mustard on my onesie.”

Hot dog?

“Sex thing.”

Sure. Go on.

“And Mike says, ‘We’ve got a washing machine.’ So I slapped him in the face as hard as I could.”

Why?

“Washing machine? I won’t be insulted like that.”

So you got thrown out of backstage.

“Yeah, a little. Did you know that Phish has a Parish?”

What’s his name?

“Pharish.”

Sounds right.

“John, darling! It’s me, us!

“That makes no sense.”

freddie-mercury-5-casino

“Oh, actually it did make sense.”

“Get ready for a British Invasion.”

“Not again.”

“And again, and again. John Mayer, prepare your mouth and asshole!”

“Oh, I could have lived my whole life without having heard that sentence.”

“We’re going to put you under pressure, John. And you’ll want to break free, but the show must go on. Soon after, though, you’ll realize that the Freddies Mercury are somebody to love, and you’ll be our best friend.”

…

“Bicycle Race.”

“There it is. Yeah, this isn’t happening.”

“Oh, darling. Who’s going to stop us?”

“The multicorn.”

“What?”

jm-multicorn-phish-jpg

“Oh, the multicorn. I see it now.”

“There can only be one.”

“There are five of us, and four of you. There can be more than one.”

“I’m too high for math, Freddies. Let’s do this.”

ROCK STAR FIGHT

…

John?

…

Freddies?

…

Anyone?

Once More Into The Breach

November 3, 2016 / / 1 Comment

jm-unicirn-phish-3

“John, thanks for coming back to the show. I know last time was a bit rocky, what with being raped by multiple Freddies Mercury, but I’m glad to see you’ve put the onesie back on and have rejoined us on SiriusXM.”

“What? Radio Randy died.”

“I know. I’m his sister, Radio Randi.”

“Of course.”

“This has been very tough on our parent, Radio Randie and Radio Randee.”

“How do you tell each other apart?”

“We only exist in print.”

“Good plan. Listen, the acid is kicking in and I am in no shape for the radio. I’m ten seconds away from talking about my penis, and that has ended poorly every time I’ve done it in public.”

“What about in private?”

“Oh, it ends great there. I hang out with musicians and comedians; they don’t talk about anything other than their penises.”

“John, you say you have a solo album coming out, but there are other musicians on it, thereby negating the term ‘solo.’ Why the lies, John?”

“Not a lie; you’re misinterpreting the word ‘solo.’ I didn’t mean I did it all myself, I meant that I solo throughout the entire album.”

“Ah.”

“Radio Randy–”

“Randi.”

“–I’ll be honest with you: since I went out with Dead & Company? I can’t stop. I can’t stop soloing.”

“What about laundry?”

“I can briefly stop soloing. But then: soloing again.”

“John, in addition to my deejay duties, I also teach symbology at Harvard–”

“That’s neither a thing, nor a word.”

“–and I think your problem is that you’ve avatized: adopted the external essentialities of a character within the narrative. You’re the guitarist in the Dead who isn’t Bobby, and that means you must solo. It’s now your nature.”

“Is there no way to get relief?”

“Opiates and a beard have worked in several cases.”

“Can’t grow a beard.”

“Cocaine and a mustache?”

“Also can’t grow a mustache.”

“Crystal meth and a bushet?”

“A bushet?”

“A bush mullet. Pubes real short, but you let your ball hair grow out.”

…

“I never thought I’d say this, but can we take a call?”

“Sure, John! We have several callers, but first up is a friend of ours. Bobby in Marin? Are you there?

“Radio Randi, I’m so sorry to hear about your brother.”

“Thank you, Bobby, but he was secretly a serial killer.”

“Then, uh,  my feelings are mixed.”

“Thanks.”

“Josh, I’ve decided to be angry with you, and seek my bliss through bloody revenge. Which, you know, seems like a bit of a dichotomy, but I’m complicated. I’ve taken steps towards that end. Thought it was fair to let you know.”

“Bob, what are you talking about?”

bobby-ninja

“Josh, I hired a ninja to kill you.”

“Goddammit, Bobby.”

“You’re not going to see it coming.”

“You’re telling me about it, Bob. You lose the element of surprise when you call in to a non-existent radio show and announce your plans.”

“Huh.”

“Is this because I forgot to get you when Elvis showed up?”

“That’s it, yeah, but some of it may be repressed feelings from the time you dressed up as a picnic blanket.”

“Bobby, please don’t send a ninja after me.”

“Can’t unsend a ninja. They’re like e-mails. Radio Randi?”

“Yeah, Bob?”

“Can I say the phrase that pays?”

“Not that kind of radio show, Bob.”

“Ah. Well, what schools are closed due to snow?”

“Not that kind of radio show, either.”

JAPANESE YELLING

“Gotta go.”

…

“We’re back on the Radio Randi show with John…John? John?”

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