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Danger Lad! opened up my laptop this morning to see... Amanda Palmer! Nearly naked! At the Golden Globes!
"Who's that?" he asked me.
"Amanda Palmer," I said.
"MY 'Manda Palmer!" he declared. And then he retreated to a corner to watch her sing "I'm Googling You" all by himself. (Because I swooped in and distracted him from "Sex Changes" out of a quite reasonable desire not to deal with the combination of that song, echolalia, and daycare.) All parental attempts to approach were repulsed. "No! Nooooooo!! My 'Manda Palmer!"
This will either be the beginning of serious street cred in alternative music or of some truly demonic girlfriends.
Let's all hope for street cred, shall we?
"Who's that?" he asked me.
"Amanda Palmer," I said.
"MY 'Manda Palmer!" he declared. And then he retreated to a corner to watch her sing "I'm Googling You" all by himself. (Because I swooped in and distracted him from "Sex Changes" out of a quite reasonable desire not to deal with the combination of that song, echolalia, and daycare.) All parental attempts to approach were repulsed. "No! Nooooooo!! My 'Manda Palmer!"
This will either be the beginning of serious street cred in alternative music or of some truly demonic girlfriends.
Let's all hope for street cred, shall we?
