I wanna yell at you for smoking on the horse, but your hair looks so damn good.
“I used the horse’s shampoo.”
“Do you know Veronica?”
No one knows Veronica.
“Pig knows her real well.”
I know that. I meant that no one wrote anything down about her. We don’t even know her last name. Was it Barnard or Grant?
“Huh. Good question. I always thought her last name was Pig’s Black Girlfriend.”
There you go.
“We are in the past, y’know.”
Go sit in the Problem Attic for a few hours.
“Should I bring the horse?”
Wanna know what modern medicine means? Without it, you only got three people in the picture.
“I’m, uh, gonna put on the giant hat.”
“That’s Larry’s hat, Weir. Don’t put it on.”
“Phil, I hear you. I definitely hear you. But, uh, I’m putting the giant hat on.”
Good gravy, these people are Gentiles.
“I already know what you’re gonna bitch about.”
Precarious, what is that speaker doing?
“Cuz it’s halfway off its perch.”
No, I know why it’s teetering. Why was it set up this way?
“They just show up. Usually, they’re naked.”
“You, uh, wanna do a thing?”
“Is the thing drumming?”
“Fine, I guess.”
Jeff Chimenti wearing a hat is like Scarlett Johansson wearing a space suit. Do not keep your beauty to yourself, Jeff Chimenti. Does the eagle refuse to fly in fear of embarrassing the pigeon? Let the world see your silvery goodness.
Double potato salad.
I feel like Josh is showing me his invisible engagement ring.
“Thoughts on my Ass! Look at my gum!”
No, thank you, Billy.
Fine. Yes, you have gum in your mouth.
What does that even mean?
“Viagra-flavored. Gum gets soft, and Billy gets hard.”
“I’m gonna stick it in stuff.”
Your dick or the gum?
“Both! I used to know some skank in Indianapolis. This chick could chew gum with her swimmin’ hole. Blow bubbles, the whole nine yards. I tried to get her on Star Search, but Ed McMahon called the cops on us.”
“I got a million of ’em.”
“So, uh, if you’re happy with the way things are going, then you don’t have to vote. But if you’re not, well, then you should vote. If you’re a little bit warm, then you should take off your jacket. If, uh, you’ve got a cramp in your leg, then try walking around for a little.”
“Bob, you’re drifting.”
“Gimme a minute, here, Phil: I’m talking about democracy.”
“There’s a group of young people in the lobby called Headcount, and they’ll help you register. Right next to them is the merch table, and it’d really help us out if you bought some hoodies. We ordered too many.”
“Weir’s right, folks. We’re taking a bath on the hoodies.”
“So, uh, if you register to vote and buy a hoodie, then you get an autograph after the show.”
“Not from us.”
“No, not us. You get Wally’s.”
I CANNOT SIGN AUTOGRAPHS. I HAVE NO HANDS.
“The other Wally. How the hell did you get here?”
THE POWER OF IMAGINATION.
“We’ll be back in just a little bit.”
“Are you one of the Heart sisters?”
“Those gals can rock just as, uh, hard as the fellows do.”
“I’m not in Heart, Bobby.”
“Are you Phil?”
“Just play guitar, Bob.”
I feel like we all forgot this happened.
This is all the rehearsing that Furthur did.
“Bobby, stop calling me that.”
Even backstage, Mickey doesn’t get a real drum set.
Jeff Chimenti is a Shorts Die-Hard, isn’t he? Everybody knew one in college: the guy–it’s only guys that do this–who ALWAYS wears shorts, no matter what the weather or occasion. Usually, though, they’re fat guys or at least stocky. Jeff Chimenti is the skinniest SDH I’ve ever seen.
“Yeah, I’m gonna need the white people to stop encircling me, please.”
The fellow with the camera is Justin Kreutzmann–you know Justin–and he’s putting together a documentary about rock and roll drummers called Let There Be Drums. You can read about it, and see something called a sizzle reel, right here.
FUN FACT: For the past few years, Justin has been an editor on The Bachelorette.
…look so fucking much like Bobby?
(I don’t know what the fuck this is, so maybe you can tell me.)
Just about sums it up more than anything I could ever write, dunnit?