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**OnlineHost** Welcome to Rivers Cuomo Back to the Future Chat! |
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Cuomover: /smokes a weed |
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Cuomover: oh fuck! i fuckin love to smoke a weed! |
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Cuomover: /thrusts crotch ironically |
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**OnlineHost** CuomoToMyWindow has entered the chatroom. |
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CuomoToMyWindow: Uh, hey, is this future chat? |
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Cuomover: no man it’s present chat |
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CuomoToMyWindow: Well, what year is it? |
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Cuomover: i’m really not sure
/does the drugs
ohhh mannnn
sometimes i think i should write one or more songs about smoking the drugs
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CuomoToMyWindow: Uh, all right.
Well who’s the President?
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Cuomover: um, hold on, let me turn on the news
ok billy mays is president
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CuomoToMyWindow: Who’s he? |
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Cuomover: he has a ponytail and is trying to pass some sort of oxiclean or ding king legislation
not my president
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CuomoToMyWindow: Well, whatever. You’re wearing glasses, so you must be old. |
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CuomoToMyWindow: Anyway, I logged on here to see how my future self is doing. |
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Cuomover: prettttty good man, i just came out with a new album |
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CuomoToMyWindow: Oh man, I bet you’re on the Eggshell White album by now. |
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Cuomover: nah, we got to “the green album” and couldn’t think of any other colors |
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CuomoToMyWindow: Hmm.
So tell me about your new album.
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Cuomover: pffff
i just said “fuck it man” and released a bunch of demos that i found on my bedroom floor
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Cuomover: check out some of the lyrics on this noise |
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Cuomover:
Street signs and traffic lights
Ever confusing me, too
Stop left, go right, no U-turn
Where’s the God damn exit?
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CuomoToMyWindow: what
oh my god
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Cuomover: yeah awesome right
it’s like, i’m just a nerd tryin’ to drive around in a car! gimme some slack man! hahaha right
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CuomoToMyWindow: Okay. In this song you’re looking for an exit, so you’re clearly on the interstate. Do expressways have stop signs in the future? Wouldn’t that be dangerous? |
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Cuomover: yeah it’s a pretty harsh realm |
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CuomoToMyWindow: Level with me here. How long ago did you just completely stop trying? |
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Cuomover: well we did pinkerton, which was really good but only sold 9 copies
shortly after that we realized we could record a shitty 10-track, 24-minute album and call it “full-length”
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Cuomover: our upcoming project is just a 4-minute-long recording of a cassette tape i found in my old talkboy
half of it is just me saying “hiii kids we’re hoooome eeeearly”
haaaaaa
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CuomoToMyWindow: What the hell is wrong with you? The Blue Album was awesome. I bet people still listen to it once in a while. |
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CuomoToMyWindow: I figured I’d come in here and at least find someone who still gave a fuck. |
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CuomoToMyWindow: You need to knock it off. You’re completely pissing away my entire future. You’re just coasting on the albums I’m making so you can peddle your stupid bullshit. |
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CuomoToMyWindow: Do you really just not care anymore? |
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Cuomover: how are you typing those big letters
oh that’s uppercase right, lemme see if i can do that
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Cuomover: ok i don’t know how but i just opened 900 instances of solitaire
i am freaking out right now
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CuomoToMyWindow: Okay, you know what? This devastates me, but I think I’m just going to find an ax and get someone to chop off my hands. That way I’ll never be able to make music again, but neither will you. At least we’ll have our dignity. |
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Cuomover: all right broseph, take it sleazy |
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**OnlineHost** CuomoToMyWindow has left the chatroom. |
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Cuomover: whoa
/stares at hand
fingers are weird, they’re like little snakes with fingers on them
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**OnlineHost** Cuomover’s hands have suddenly disappeared, with cleanly amputated stumps where they used to be. |
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Cuomover: …
WEEEIIIRD
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Cuomover: all right hold up
/stares at stack of angry, disappointed fan mail
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Cuomover: … |
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**OnlineHost** Nothing happens. |
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Cuomover: what the fuck it’s not working anymore |
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Cuomover: and how am i still typing |
