2000-08-10

Frampton Comes Alive!

Ahhh, nothing like the acrid smell of utter shamelessness, eh wot?

Today, as an antidote to yesterday's saccharine rush, I bring you musings on my more age-appropriate crush, Peter Frampton.

In'ee just dreamy? All them curly locks.

I think my crush on Frampton is based purely on the volume of sense memory his name invokes for me. I think of Frampton and I am assaulted in the olfactory department: salt water, Coppertone�, half-melted Hoodsie� cups and white-hot Impala upholstery. Frampton makes me want to build sandcastles decorated with sun-blanched popsicle sticks. Frampton makes me want to order a Sno-Cone�. Frampton makes me want to squat in the lawn sprinkler so I can get the sand out of my bathing suit before Ma will let me in the house.

Open G tuning = the Sound of Summer.

lisamcc at 15:20:09

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