Thoughts On The Dead

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

Kim Jong-Un: Friendship Is Magic

CELL PHONE NOISE

CELL PHONE NOISE

“This is John Mayer. Please don’t be, like, half-a-dozen people.”

“Please hold for the president.”

“What? Really? The what? Yeah, I’ll hold. Of course.”

“Hello, John. I’m the president now.”

“You are not the president, Katydoodle.”

“That’s Madam Katydoodle, John. And it’s customary to stand when the president enters the room.”

“We’re on the phone.”

“But I’m in a room.”

“Where are exactly?”

katy evita arms

“I’m polling my constituents, John. And showing them my power. Like Jeff Chimenti, but richer.”

“You’re very impressive.”

“I wanted to sing Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina. A lot of people explained how hilariously inappropriate that would have been, so I didn’t do it. But I still did Evita Arms.”

“You snuck it in.”

“I am the hottest president, John.”

“Who was your competition?”

“I would bang Teddy Roosevelt.”

“Everybody would bang Teddy Roosevelt, but the guy wasn’t attractive.”

“I appointed Doctor Gary to the CDC, John.”

“That’s a bad idea.”

“The first thing he did was get a map of all the reservoirs in the country, and then he went in his office and locked the door.”

“I think none of this is actually happening, Katy.”

“President Perry.”

“I think Doctor Gary has once more fed you something that made you allergic to reality, and now you’re hallucinating wildly in a closet and bothering me.”

“Then why is he here, John?”

“He who?”

“I got a helicopter, hot dog dick!”

lego kim jog

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“I fuck you up, Tablecloth Face. Only Korea number one, Grateful Dead number ten.”

“Please stop being racist.”

“Suck my heavenly balls, Meyers! I got nuke and Taylor Swift yanky my cranky.”

“I’m begging you to stop being racist. Why are you Lego?”

“Everybody else Lego. Only Korea invent Lego.”

“Sure. But, uh, that storyline’s over. Sir Paul sobered up and drove away.”

“When this happen?”

“Last night.”

“Huh. I stop reading. Beg for money. Make me cringe.”

“It got rough, yeah.”

“No more Lego?”

“No.”

“Huh.”

“I look like asshole.”

“You don’t! Kimmy buddy–”

“Do not call that.”

“–you look fine. I mean, you look a lot more like your father than you, but whatever.”

“Kim Jong-Il great man. Invent miniature golf.”

“Okay, sure.”

“I go change. We no talk about this or nuke drop on all hot dog dicks.”

“Great. Lips are sealed.”

“You are now best friend of Kim Jong-Un, Josh Meyer.”

“I have to pass.”

“Cannot pass. Is honor.”

“Respectfully.”

“No respectfully. You best friend. We road trip.”

“NO!”

“Good. We bro now. I change into checkered jumpsuit.”

“Oh, please, God: don’t let anyone Photoshop a checkered jumpsuit on you.”

“Okay, okay. Love you, Hot Dog Dick.”

“Please don’t capitalize that.”

“I signed a number of treaties, John.”

“I’m hanging up the phone and getting drunk.”

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