Honks Like Clarinet

Honks Like Clarinet. That would be her name if Patti Smith were Lakota Sioux or some kind of Indian where they earn themselves a name like Stands With Fist or Dances With Wolves or some such. Any of those would be much better than Types On Keyboard.

Why Patti Smith and why this song? No good reason, really. Just total capriciousness on my part, except someone once told me when I was in high school in the late 70s that she was from Pittman, NJ. I know where that is and the idea of Patti Smith growing up in Pittman is funny all by itself, even if it's not true. And this band does as much with that Am-G-F thing in a rock song as I can imagine possible.

Watch the video. That's a sensitive, arty, misfit chick absolutely brimming with tough grrrl attitude working herself into an ecstatic frenzy at the thought of buying me stuff.

What? She's not thinking about me while she's touching herself?

Right. And I suppose she isn't totally cool, either.

You're just jealous.

Do You Know This Mood?

"Now it's over I'm dead and I haven't done anything that I want or I'm still alive and there's nothing I want to do."

Ask not for whom the egg salads

Were it not for Althouse, and this post, I might never have learned that Mrs. Bissage ABSOLUTELY REFUSES to eat hardboiled eggs.

After 14 years of marriage, I had no idea.

Make that: After 14 years of homemade egg salad sandwiches.

No, make that: After 14 years of utter cluelessness.

Any way you slice it, you've got to love Mrs. Bissage!

Untitled

"With Major Lawrence, mercy is a passion. With me, it is merely good manners. You may judge which motive is the more reliable."