Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: john mayer (Page 32 of 42)

Objectionable

June 17, 2016 / / 4 Comments

jm deadandco drums snapchat cinccinnati

He’s Snapchatting during Drums. Drums is not for Snapchatting, it’s for doing the lines your roadie has laid out for you and getting a quick beej.

Also: I haven’t mentioned this since the tour started, but I spent a few minutes listening to the second set from Deer Creek, and if I see any of you in any of those unholy Couch Tour chat rooms, then I will mock you publicly. I don’t make many demands of you, Enthusiasts, but staying out of those chat rooms is non-negotiable. It’s for your own good, and if you don’t believe me: go look for yourself, and then come back here and apologize to me.

EDIT: They’re discussing BitCoin in the chat room. I see you there, and you get the Banninator 4200. No exceptions.

But, Jesus: he’s Snapchatting during Drums. It’s like having a puppy.

Jam Band; Jam, Band

June 17, 2016 / / 2 Comments

jm eddie vedder bonnaroo

“So, Eddie: I was thinking–”

“You can’t join Pearl Jam.”

“–what if I…okay.”

“Sorry, man.”

“Just throwing it out there.”

“If you don’t ask, you don’t know.”

“Right.”

“And, um–this is a bit awkward–Jeff Ament wants his hat back.”

…

“This is my hat, Eddie.”

“Please don’t make this weird.”

“I bought this at the Macy’s in Geneva. It cost 12 grand.”

“No, no. Jeff bought it at a flea market in Madison, Wisconsin. I was with him. We ate deep-fried cotton candy.”

“You can deep-fry cotton candy?”

“You can deep-fry anything if you’re American enough.”

“It’s my hat, Eddie.”

“C’mon, man. Gimme the–”

“Don’t you–”

“Just gimme Jeff’s–

“Get your hands off–”

IN THE NEXT DRESSING ROOM

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK

“C’mon in. Hey, Oteil. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, Bobby. Um…our guitarist and Eddie Vedder are punching each other next door.”

“No, no: I’m our guitarist.”

“Our other guitarist.”

“Josh?”

…

“Sure?”

“That’s what that noise is? I figured it was Billy.”

Gimme One Good Dose Of Mayer

June 16, 2016 / / 2 Comments

jm deadandco bonnaroo water bottle

Hey, John Mayer. Whatcha doing?

“Bonnaroo. Rooooooo. Bonnabonnabonnaroooooooo.”

Okay.

“Windows, like, bring the outside to the forefront.”

What?

“Gooses.”

…

John, where’d you get the water bottle?

“Billy.”

Ah.

“Wha? Oh. Ohhhhhhhh.”

…

“Fuck. I got, um, show? Show.”

Rookie mistake, Meyers.

“Bananaramaroooooooooooooo.”

Right.

He’s The Kind Of Guy That Likes To Earthroam Around

June 15, 2016 / / 2 Comments

…

You okay, slugger?

I did something dumb.

There’s still some quicklime left.

Quicklime? You don’t bury bodies here. You toss them into canals and the gators do the work for you.

Right. Did you actually kill someone?

No, worse.

Did you try downloading Snapchat again?

Yeah.

And you didn’t understand how it worked, or what it was?

These apps nowadays. They’re not like the apps we had growing up. There’s no soul to them.

Right. At least tell me you were going to use the Snapchat for pornographic purposes.

…

You were going to take screenshots of John Mayer’s Snapchat so you can make up your little stories?

He’s back in the Earthroamer, and I he posted about it but this is the biggest shot I can find:

jm earthroamer gear snapchat

That is inadequate.

That word never looks right.

Inadequate?

Yeah.

How should it be spelled?

I don’t know. Am I an pint-sized black orphan adopted by a linebacker who went on to write a dictionary?

You’ve got your Websters all mixed up.

The point being: I find it rude of Young John Mayer to not post many excellent shots of himself and his Dead & Company bandmates in his Earthroamer on a social media platform I am capable of accessing, or understanding. Not right. Sad!

Please don’t do that.

How dare he! After I allowed him to become a Grateful Dead!?

These kids today.

And their apps.

Sure, slugger.

The Hottest New Celebrity Couple Is Johnna

June 14, 2016 / / 0 Comments

donna jm bonnaroo dancing

“Well, ain’t you a tall mint julep! I’ll drink you on a hot Alabama afternoon.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Martin-Godchaux-McKay-Stamos. It’s so awesome to get to meet you.”

“You the Bobby now? Every band needs a Bobby.”

“Um, well, actually: I guess I’m the Garci–”

“AAHHHAAHHAAHHAAHHAAHAAHHAAAHA! No. No. No. Bless your pretty heart, no.

“That was just mean.”

“I apologize, sugar, but you can’t be walking around with that idea. You take that idea down to the bar on Saturday night, you ain’t makin’ it to church on Sunday morning. Oh, excuse me: maybe you go to Jewish church. Is ‘Meyers’ a Jewish name?”

“I have no idea what kind of name ‘Meyers’ is.”

“Heritage is important, pumpkin. Would you like some barbiturates?”

“I don’t think they make those anymore, ma’am.”

“I got a stash.”

“No, thank you.”

“More for Mama. How them drummers treating you?”

“They learned my name. Or, you know: close enough.”

“That’s good.”

“And they’ve both stopped whipping drumsticks at the back of my head.”

“Oh, that could be good or bad. They might like you, or they might have run out of drumsticks.”

“What happens when they run out of drumsticks to throw?”

“They throw drums.”

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