He’s got the blues
Tobin admires his brother’s piano-playing song-writing skills, and he likes to try his hand at it as well.
T:Â (mournfully) I have one song, and it’s not very good.
A: Oh, honey, I’m sure it’s good. Just keep practicing and you’ll get good at it.
T:Â It’s not good because it’s all bad words.
A:Â …Oh yeah?
T: (mashing piano keys) He said, ‘Buuutttthead.’ He said, ‘Poopypants.’ He said ‘Baby poopy faaaaaaaaace.’ (pause) See? Not very good.
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