Dear Jeff Chimenti,
Hi. How are you? I’m fine. I’m glad you were not arrested on the way to Bonnaroo. I hope you will not be arrested on the way from Bonnaroo. That would ruin your Bonnaroo.
Thank you for showing us your power, Jeff Chimenti. I just want to get that out of the way: everyone appreciates the things you do and the power you display, and your hair.
That said: dammit, Jeff Chimenti, you are a Grateful Dead now and Grateful Deads wear Grateful Dead shirts. Get that weak-ass Ratdog shit out of here. I’m sure you’ll be jamming with your dope buddy Jay Lane soon; you may wear your Ratdog merch there. This is the big leagues, and I think we both know what league that shirt is competing in.
I am sorry you forced me to chastise you, Jeff Chimenti. I look forward to many more displays of your awesome power.
ps You’re kidding me with that thing, right? Key-ter Dinklage up there? Is that little sumbitch the other keyboards’ gimp? Do they use it for sexual pleasure? Is it secretly a dab rig? Don’t be getting all dabbed out on stage, Jeff Chimenti: that would rob you of your power.