Thoughts On The Dead

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

A Remarkably Civil War

Shit.

“Rando War marches on.”

Okay, y’know what? Fine. Fine, we’re in a Rando War. I accept it. Fine. Just tell me one thing.

“Orville.”

What?

“I thought you were gonna ask my favorite Wright brother.”

I wasn’t.

“Well you know: it’s out there now.”

Awesome. Bobby?

“Uh-huh?”

What are the rules of Rando War?

“Oh, there’s a bunch. Every rando for himself.”

Sure.

“Take a rando, leave a rando.”

What?

“Always separate your whites from your coloreds.”

I’m not talking about laundry.

“Neither am I. Truman forgot to desegregate Rando War.”

“Don’t listen to that guy. He makes no sense.”

Okay, now I’m confused.

“Civil Rando War.”

No.

“Bobby against Bobby.”

No.

“There is, uh, a certain amount of internecinity to Rando War.”

I’m positive “internecine” doesn’t turn into a noun that way.

“Spiritual gangsters reject prescriptivism.”

I’ve heard that.

1 Comment

  1. One of those randos is no rando – Nick Forster, bassist for Hot Rize, Wendell Mercantile’s Bruce Wayne.

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