Sunday, January 25, 2009
Poor Peggy Pressungkasten! She's trying desperately hard to envision herself playing a cello or a tenor sax or just about anything else with a higher coolness quotient than an accordion. She will not make eye contact with you. It would crush her. Instead, she'll gather up whatever inner strength she has left and look heavenward whilst constructing a fantasy of her musical savior The King, accompanying her in a polka duet. If only she could time travel forward to 2009, she would not feel so alone in her dorkitude. She would rule!