Smitten

I'm not as cool as i fucking think and it seems i might be a bit late to the party but i've suddenly become a drooling little fanboy of Amanda Palmer, lead singer of the Dresden Dolls, those wacky kids who put on Weimar era goth cabaret, as the indie rock scribes say, needless to say the girls got a wicked way with the pen and i like how she tickles the ivories and now i find out she'll be in my fair city at the end of November, i wear black on the outside cuz black is how i feel on the inside as Mozzer once said and i'm sure he'd approve, hell i might even shave for this show and see if i can weasel my way backstage in an attempt to have her sign my inner thigh, i'll even shave a nice square space for her to sign in, besides i'm sure i'll fall in love at least a dozen times watching the young goth girls sing along with their heroine and as we all know i like the strange and seedy and this seems like it will be right up my dark, dirty, drug-addled alley.