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I declare this week a do-over. As I haven't worked out a reality that is quite that temporally subjective, I've resigned myself to coming back to my mother's place, and wandering around in leggings, and generally looking like an wretch, albeit one stylishly clothed in the best of hiking gear. And American Apparel, or at least soon; yay spending
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Man, they need to release another album post-haste.
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That they do. Maybe we can bring it into being by hoping hard enough?
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I have to admit that the reason I adore their version of "Flash Company" beyond all reason is probably just that it makes me picture Richard II doing a transvestite cabaret act and giggle a whole lot. (I decided that his minions would have to be in the band and what instruments they'd play, because I am a huge silly dork. Except I can't remember now who did what, except that Bagot the Fink was the drummer.)
Also, did you know that "The Streets of Laredo" belongs to a family of ballads which is mostly about syphilis? This is one of my favorite Inappropriate Cocktail Party Facts. Not that I ever go to any actual cocktail parties, but you know what I mean.
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It is just such a totally wicked mental image; I don't blame you at all for picturing it all the time. Oh, Richard, your melancholic cabaret act is one of the better things ever. The backing band really makes it, though.
I did know that, actually. I think you probably told me in the first place, and now I want to throw a cocktail party, and see what other sorts of odd, yet empheral, knowledge you have.
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The things you do to me.
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You know we have fun!
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