Three years ago, if you'd told me that I would be explaining the history of Peter Frampton's voice box (and his resultant, deserved spot in rock history) on my drive home from work to a middle-aged, Jew-Catholic convert that shares my carpool, I don't know if I'd believe you. Moreover, I don't know if I'd want to kill myself or not.
And I still don't.
[On a side note, one of my favorite moments from
Arrested Development's second season was when Gob recorded an album with his controversial black puppet, Franklin. The album was called "Franklin Comes Alive", and the cover art mimicked "Frampton Comes Alive" with hilarious results.]
[On a side note, one of my favorite moments from Arrested Development's second season was when Gob recorded an album with his controversial black puppet, Franklin. The album was called "Franklin Comes Alive", and the cover art mimicked "Frampton Comes Alive" with hilarious results.]
3 comments:
This is the only record I own. Vinyl. Record. Hot.
Heather
Unrelated to this post at all... I nonchalantly hit the "next blog" button on the top of the screen and was immediately looking at a scantily-clad woman... with a penis. Lovely. Unfortunately, the blog was in a language unrecognizable to me. I did understand that this person's name is Roberta. Or Roberto.
Frampton reminds me of good weed. I am right now picturing a very young, very prematurely stoned Heather. I think there is also shag carpet and brown couches involved. It's definitely a basement vision. This is all because she owns it in vinyl.
oh, and heather, I am sorry for fucking up your sandwich.
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