A Grateful Dead song started playing in the car while my dad was driving. The informant (my dad) is WB, I am PH.
WB: Ugh, the Grateful Dead
PH: Want me to skip it?
WB: No, that’s okay. Did I ever tell you my joke about the Grateful Dead?
PH: I think so, but tell me again
WB: What’d the Grateful Dead fan say when he got out of rehab?
WB: [said in a lower, “hippie” voice that my dad uses when imitating his hippie, drug addict cousin] “What’s this terrible noise stuck in my head, man?”