The glamorous life of a Rock Star.

“Gig’s a gig.”

What is this, a county fair?

“Festival.”

Which one?

“One of ’em.”

Sure. Actually, this is worse than a county fair.

“How so?”

County fair has animals. Local farm kids bring in their prize heifers and chickens and whatnot.

“And that’s desirable?”

I like looking at animals.

“Can’t really argue with that. But, uh, here’s one for the festival’s ‘pro’ column: there’s a chick on the ferris wheel that flashes me every time she goes by.”

You sure she’s not flashing Josh Kaufman?

“Yeah, positive.”

Me, too. Just asking. You gonna go on the ferris wheel later?

“Oh, no. Nuh-uh.”

Scared of heights?

“I’m actually scared of widths, but it’s not that.”

What is it?

“Here by myself. My wife–”

Natasha Monster.

“–Natasha Monster isn’t here. Can’t ride a ferris wheel without your girl.”

That’s very sweet, Bobby.

“I’m gonna go on the bumper cars without her, though.”

Well, duh.