I bought a house.
We had to have wallpaper hung
and my contractor said, "I have a wallpaper guy.
This dude is… Michelangelo.
He's a little sketchy,
but your wallpaper's going to look amazing."
I go, "Okay, well, let's hire him."
There's a guy in my kitchen.
He's got two wooden sawhorses,
and draped over them, big pieces of wallpaper.
He's putting paste on them.
And the guy putting up the wallpaper,
I can't see him, but I can hear him.
He's in the room where the wallpaper's going up,
and he's going, "Kirby!
You got too much paste near the seams.
It's bubbling up.
I got to scrape it. Goddammit, Kirby!"
I look at the guy with the sawhorses
and I say, "I assume you're Kirby."
And the guy at the sawhorses said,
"There's no Kirby."
"Two Fleetwood Mac songs in a row on the radio:
Goddammit, Kirby!"