At 11 minutes and forty seconds into the taping, all three men lost the will to live.
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
Tag: john mayer (Page 30 of 42)
“Hello all you Bravo watchers. I’m Andy Cohen and welcome to Watch What Happens Live. We’ll return you to Real Housewives of Flint in just a moment, but here with me are Bob Weir and John Mayer from the hottest band in the land, Dead & Company.”
“Thanks for having us, Andy.”
“Who’s John?”
“You guys are on tour as we speak playing to sold-out stadiums, so thanks for taking the time to come visit our little show.”
“Anything for you, buddy.”
“We have a Time Sheath, so–”
“Bobby, let’s not–”
“–it’s not really a problem.”
“–talk about the time machine on television.”
“I’ll just zip back and not say it.”
“You are continuing to casually talk about time travel.”
“Do you two need a minute?”
“We literally have all the time in the world. Y’see, we have this device–”
“BOB!”
Here’s a better shot of Bobby’s new electric dobro. For those of you who don’t know, a dobro is like a guitar.
Also, Mickey is wearing that hat because they are playing Casey Jones and Mickey has decided to expand his repertoire of annoying hat-wearing to the rest of the set list. So far, Mickey has worn:
- One of those schmucky personal umbrellas. (Cold Rain and Snow.)
- Green visor dealie like am old-timey card shark. (Deal.)
- Giant foam cowboy hat. (Like, nine songs.)
- Miner’s helmet with light that he kept shining in Jeff Chimenti’s eyes. (Cumberland Blues.)
- Scary goblin mask for no reason. (Johnny B. Goode.)
Hey, Billy. Whatcha doing?
“Smiling.”
Is that what that is?
“Yup.”
Why you so happy?
“Money.”
How do rock stars get paid? Is it every two weeks? Direct deposit?
“Krugerrands.”
There wasn’t a non-apartheid currency?
“Nah.”
Good talk.
(Also: you can listen to the Hartford show here, or watch it here.)
HONK
HOOOOOOONK
“I’m coming, Bobby. Stop it with the–”
…
“What the fuck is this, Bob?”
“We’re going on an adventure. Need a chariot.”
“This is too much chariot. It’s just the two of us.”
“It’s not.”
“Goddammit.”
“Josh, you little prick! Bring Uncle Billy five beers!”
“Goddammit.”
“He tagged along.”
“Who else is in there?”
“Y’know: I have absolutely no idea. Old friends? New characters? Isadora Duncan? It’s, um, a wide-open world in there. Anything could happen.”
CELL PHONE NOISE
CELL PHONE NOISE
“Mushi mushi?”
“John, just say ‘hello’ like a person.”
“Katy, how are you? Hold on. Bob, I gotta take this.”
“Ah, yeah, sure. Tell Kitty Pryde I say hi.”
“Sure. Katy?”
“Hello, John. Things are getting very weird.”
“What’s going on? Are you still being held hostage by Scottish ninjas that you are also in a punk band with?”
“Oh, thank you for doing the exposition. I just didn’t have it in me.”
“Anything for you, Kit-Kat.”
“Don’t call me that. John, I escaped from the Scottish ninjas.”
“How?”
“I hired actual ninjas. From China.”
“Japan.”
“Yes.”
“Katy, those aren’t ninjas. Those are geishas.”
“They identify as ninjas, John.”
“Katy.”
“You don’t define their truth.”
“Katy.”
“They have the tiniest feet.”
…
“Please tell me what happened.”
“The Scottish ninjas and I played Glastonbury.”
“It’s been a terrible week for England.”
“And I managed to get hold of a phone at the meet-and-greet?”
“You were a hostage and you went to the meet-and-greet.”
“I am a professional, John.”
“Sure.”
“And I got Dr. Gary on the line! He arranged for the actual ninjas to kidnap me from the Scottish ninjas. He rescued me, John! But then the actual ninjas stopped being helpful kidnappers and started being regular kidnappers. The actual ninjas kidnapped me, John.”
“No, they didn’t. This is all Dr. Gary’s plan.”
“That can’t be true.”
“Yeah, it is. Four or five posts from now, we find out he’s behind everything as part of some elaborate and ridiculous plan.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Great question.”
HONK
HOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNKNKKKK
“I’m coming to get you, Katy.”
“Oh, thank you. I don’t know what’s going on here and I’m scared. I can’t understand a word anyone’s saying and I’m getting sick of sushi, John. You know how people say that they could eat sushi every day? They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
…
“Please tell me you’re not–”
“I’m in Japan.”
“–in Japan. Dammit.
“They’re going to throw octopuses at me, John. Please come get me.”
“Dammit. I’m coming.”
DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANYMORE
“Bob, how the hell do we get to Japan?”
“Driver knows a shortcut.”
“Let’s go.”
- Volume pedal.
- Surface area pedal.
- Wah-wah.
- Wawa. (Only used when playing in the Philadelphia area.)
- Dada. (Makes the guitar sound very random.)
- Preverb.
- Verb.
- Reverb.
- Deverb.
- Flanger.
- Plunger.
- Foot-activated trigger for the six Snapchat-connected mobile devices Young John Mayer has pointed at him at all times.
- Super Octave.
- Hyper Octave.
- Way Too Many Fucking Octaves.
- Echo.
- Echo.
- Echo.
- Stop that.
- Flanger.
- Scrotumizer.
- Transmogrifier.
- Splurify
- Compressor.
- Expander.
- Basking shark. (When you step on it, a basking shark is thrown into the crowd.)
- Superfuzz.
- Big Muff.
- Pussyfucker.
- Phaser.
- Tricorder.
- Ibanez Tube Screamer.
Summer’s here,
and the time is right,
for Bobby’s tan capris.
Show’s going on in Queens. Listen here, or watch here, or look at Ned Lagin naked some more. It’s a free country.
CELL PHONE NOISE
CELL PHONE NOISE
“I’m the listener; you’re the sayer. Buckle up, friend: you’re on the phone with John Mayer.”
…
“Are you shitting me?”
“Hey, Katy.”
“Are you coming to rescue me or sitting around thinking up dumb stuff to say when you answer the phone?”
“I’m waiting for Bobby! He’s on his way! We’re coming. Are you okay?”
“The Scottish ninjas kidnapped me, John.”
“Really? What?”
“Well, as you remember, while I was flying on the ectochemical plane in a castle in England, I pushed the Brexit button by accident, causing the United Kingdom to leave the EU and cratering the world’s economy.”
“Ectochemical?”
“Tripping so hard you can talk to ghosts.”
“Right. Katy, you didn’t cause–”
“I DID. I totally did! And, I mean: my bad. But it was an accident. I thought a Brexit was a cookie.”
“So you thought there was a cookie button?”
“It was a castle, John. There are secret passages and archer’s loops. Maybe there are cookie buttons.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“But the Scottish people got mad and they sent ninjas. The Scottish ninjas kidnapped me, John.”
“Are you okay?”
“Kind of.”
“The Scottish ninjas and I formed a punk band.”
…
“What?”
“They turned out to be rad as hell. I mean, they kidnapped me and killed some of my entourage, but that’s just because they’re hardcore.”
“Katy.”
“Scottish ninjas are awesome, John.”
“Katy.”
“They have big red beards.”
“Katy.”
“Can you even grow a beard?”
…
“Do you need to be rescued or not?”
“Yes, but not until Monday.”
“Why?”
“We’re playing Glastonbury.”
BEEP BEEP
“Katy, that’s Bobby. You sound fine. Should I tell him not to bother?”
“Oh, I would prefer you came and rescued me.”
“Your situation sounds tolerable.”
“For now, but the Scottish ninjas are selling me on Tuesday.”
“What? To who?”
“There’s gonna be an auction.”
“We’re on our way. Wait. What happened to Dr. Gary?”
“You mean the disgraced–”
“Everyone knows who he is!”
“–Nobel laureate…okay, okay. Oh! He is missing, John!”
“No. He’s behind all of this.”
“Oh, no.”
“I’m sure, Katy.”
“How can you know?”
“I read ahead.”
“Oh.”
CELL PHONE NOISE
CELL PHONE NOISE
“What’s up, player? It’s John Mayer.”
…
“is that really how you’re answering the phone now?”
“Oh, hey, Katy. I’m trying out new greetings. Last week, it was ‘You’re on with John.’ What do you think?”
“Honestly? I think you should put less thought into it.”
“Just improvise?”
“John, listen to me: I’m in trouble again.”
“Oh, no. What happened?”
“I think I caused the Brexit.”
“You didn’t cause the Brexit, Katy.”
“I did. It happened when I was at my Moatbnb.”
“Moatbnb?”
“Like Airbnb, but for castles.”
“Right.”
“And we had undertaken a dangerous shamanic journey through both our subconsciousnesses and the wine cellar. Dr. Gary–”
“The outlaw chemist, renegade psychedelicist, and disgraced Nobel Laureate.”
“–had whipped up some–good exposition, John–Brown Fairies.”
“What are those?”
“Mushrooms soaked in absinthe. And not the stuff they sell today. The real absinthe. Plus I think he tossed a handful of crystal meth when no one was looking.”
“Wow. Wait: is that Dr. Gary?”
“Who?”
“The shady looking fucker behind you.”
“How can you see him? We’re on the phone.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s him.”
“Katy, that guy has more red flags than Chinese Fourth of July.”
“Noooo. Dr. Gary’s my friend.”
“Dr. Gary is your pet mad scientist that you buried alive one time.”
“It my defense, I thought that he was dead.”
“Jesus, Katy.”
“He is a magical man! We talked to the Ghosts of Empire!”
“That’s capitalized?”
“The Ghosts insisted upon it. They’re very formal over here.”
“Okay. You got too high and talked to British spirits. What does that have to do with anything?”
“I had been making out with Ethelred the Unready for an hour, nothing below the waist, and I suddenly needed a Fanta.”
“Like you do.”
“And in the kitchen, I found a button marked “Brexit” and I pushed it.”
…
“This didn’t happen, Katy.”
“You say that, but now Lindsay Lohan is sending Scottish ninjas after me.”
“There’s no such thing as Scottish ninjas.”
“There is! They’re real! They’re just like regular ninjas, except immeasurably more violent. Please come get me! I’m in trouble!”
“We did this already.”
“It’s either this or the Rando War.”
“I’m getting in the Earthroamer.”
CRASHSMASHSPLASH!
“John! They’re here! The Scottish ninjas!”
“Hi-yaa!”
“Ach!”
DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANYMORE
“Katy? Katy!”
…
CELL PHONE NOISE
CELL PHONE NOISE
“Weir here.”
“What’s up, player? It’s John Mayer.”
“Who?”
…
“It’s Josh.”
“Hey, buddy.”
“Bobby, listen: Katy’s in trouble and we gotta go get her.”
“You know we’re on tour, right?”
“You know we have a Time Sheath, right?”
“Ah. Yup, yup. Where we going?”
“England.”
“Well, now’s the time to go. They’re gonna be desperate for hard currency in a few hours.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up.”
“No, no, no. I’m driving.”
“In what?”
“I got wheels.”
What makes a rando? Is this a question of etymology, simple definition? Or a deeper philosophical query? Well: that depends on how much time you have, and how much bullshit you can tolerate. (The field of philosophy is almost entirely predicated on a high level of bullshit tolerance.)
The short version is simple: do I recognize you on sight? If not, then you are a rando.
But, of course, there is more to it. If you take a selfie, or sit for a portrait, or have your mug shot taken, then you are not a rando. Nor does rando status apply to group shots of people at weddings, or parties, or mass suicides. All of these scenarios lack the key ingredient in randofication:
If there’s no famous person in the picture, then there are also no randos in the picture.
Here’s the analogy: ever see an NBA game and think, “They’re not all that big?” And you would be right, comparatively. When everyone’s a giant, then no one looks tall. But when you see NBA players with normal human beings, they’re revealed as the enormous monsters that they actually are. Only through the presence of a non-rando does the randiness of the rando shine through.
We all have the mark of the rando written ‘pon our breasts, but it’s written in organic fluids, and famous people are the blacklight that reveals our shame.
What the fuck are you even talking about?
Randos, man.
Is this because the lovely and polite gentleman that runs the great Instagram feed From The Lot commented?
Little bit. Also just killing time until I had an idea or just gave up on writing and watched Deadwood.
Should we be openly admitting we’ve got nothing?
I don’t want the nice people to think I’m not aware I’m treading water.
Ah, self-awareness: the lazy man’s alternative to actually doing something.
There ya go.
…
That’s a kick-ass shirt.
Ringer tee. Only thing better is a three-quarter.
The three-quarter sleeved tee is the king of shirts, yeah.
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