Ah, fuck.
“Welcome me back.”
No.
“People don’t want to hear your little Tiny Town stories–”
Little Aleppo.
“–they want more John Mayer. They want John Mayest.”
English doesn’t work that way.
“Ask me about my clothes.”
If I don’t, will you still talk about them?
“Oh, yeah.”
Go ahead, then.
“My shoes were made by a blind man who hates me.”
Makes sense.
“They took eight months to make.”
Why?
“Someone hid his tools and he couldn’t find them for seven months.”
Sure. And the toppermost?
“This is a brand-new creation from Japan’s number one toppermost designer.”
What’s his name?
“Wes Anderson’s Isle of Dogs.”
No.
“See the pattern? It’s a reference to my last album.”
How so?
“No one notices it until I point out it exists.”
That sounds right. Can you leave? There’s another two months before Dead & Company tour. Go play around on social media.
“I AM THE KING OF SOCIAL MEDIA AND ALL OF MY BRAINS ARE VERY OPEN AND SMART.”
Oh, shit, I know that voice.
Ah, fuck.
“WHY WILL JOSH MEYERS NOT LET ME TAKE HIS CHILDREN TO DISNEY PLANET? I HAVE MANY CARS!”
Kanye, you need to get the hell out of here and call your shrink.
“MY IGNORANCE IS SHRINKING AND ALSO MY FINGERS ARE MADE OF SPAGHETTI AND DREAMS.”
Uh-huh.
“DONALD TRUMP IS LIKE MARVIN GAYE BUT WITHOUT THE SILENT LETTERS.”
You’re not making any sense, buddy.
“KANYE MAKES DOLLARS! I HAVE MADE MORE MONEY OFF MY SHOES THAN THOM MCCANN.”
I don’t think that’s–
“THOM MCCAN’T!”
Wow.
“MY POSITIVITY WILL OUTSHINE THE NIPPLES OF HATRED.”
Leave.
“YOU CANNOT GET RID OF ‘YE WITH YOUR FASTIDIOUS SOUP!”
Buddy, I’m just saying–
KARATE NOISE!
Ah, fuck.
Hey, King.
“ONLY ONE PERSON ‘ROUND THESE PARTS GETS TA SPEAK IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS, MAN.”
What about Wally?
“AH SAID ‘PERSON,’ YOU WOOLY BOOGER!”
Sure.
“WHY IS BRANFORD MARSALIS SO ANGRY?”
Okay, that’s it. Everyone out of the pool.
“THANK YOU VERY MUCH.”
Oh, stuff it.
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