Saturday, October 15, 2005
Guest Post/Pest Ghost
Oh dear. Oh, dearie dear. Matt over't the Tattered Coat left me the keys, and I'm afraid I may have dinged up the old family bus a bit. If you speak fluent French and have a nearly autistic knowledge of psychedelic-period Bob Dylan lyrics, you'll roll in the aisles. The rest of you: J m'en fiche de votre ignorance!
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J'en ai mar!
And I mean that literally. So hung up on Dylan? Go listen to Johnny Marr!
God, you slightly-older people. Your Dylan and post-'66 Beatles.
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