Thoughts On The Dead

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

The Handsome Young Rando Lay Dead On The Floor

jm handsome rando folsom

You really can’t grow a beard, can you?

“I’m boyish.”

Or girlish.

“You’re one to talk.”

My beard has finally started coming in even.

“What color is it?”

So I see you have a rando.

“I thought so.”

Rando War is over. These flare-ups need to stop. It’s getting…wait. I know this rando.

“No, no. I found him. He’s my rando.”

Nuh-uh. This is Mickey’s rando. I remember his eyes.

“He does have beautiful eyes.”

Just like Margot Robbie.

“Whatever. He counts.”

He does not count. Can’t repeat a rando. He belongs to Mickey.

“Um, excuse me? John, and…whoever the fuck you are–”

Are you familiar with the concept of semi-fictionality?

“–I’m not a rando My name is Hunter. These pictures were on my Instagram and I guess you stole them and posted them here so you could–

KUCHWAMMMSIZZLE

“What the fuck!?”

Holy shit.

RANDOS MUST KNOW THEIR PLACE.

Wally?

DO NOT CALL ME THAT. RANDOS DO NOT GET SPEAKING ROLES. THEY ARE SEEN AND NOT HEARD, OR THEY ARE DISINTEGRATED.

“That was a fan!”

HE WAS A RANDO AND HE WAS INSOLENT.

Josh has

“Don’t call me that.”

–a point. Plus, you shouldn’t disintegrate anyone.

I AM IN A MOOD.

Why?

WE WILL DISCUSS IT LATER.

Oh, yay.

“Can we discuss the pile of rando on the sidewalk?”

Oh, go wear your sunglasses.

OOH, BURN.

9 Comments

  1. This is so much better than real life. Please don’t stop.

  2. That guy stole my shirt! I’m the only one who bought that shirt they’re selling at every stop of the tour…

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