...back to the Joanna Newsom argument. Not pretty, not awful, but definitely not a beauty. I just would envision she'd be great to wear some old school maid outfit and be in your room preparing tea and such when you wake up.
It plays out this way:
Joanna: oh, good morn, my lord, I seeith that thou hast awaken with much girth underneath your knickers. He he, seriously, would thou liketh a cup of tea to set the day adrift?
Me: why yes, um, why are you talking like that? Um, actually can you just cancel the tea and get me some vicodin and McDonald's breakfast, I get the number 2, orange juice please.
Joanna: oh my lord, maybe thou hasn't listened to my aural recordings. I'm a time traveling nymph from the nether land where gay dancing and sword battles happen on the noon! I don't know what you expect me to know of auto travel. I've not heard of vicodin, but as you tell it, it's like how i take morphine when the sun sets behind the castle i grew up in.
Me: oh yeah. sorry. Ok, um...just go get your harp and play, "Sawdust and Diamonds". I like that song. I mean, will it even sound right without Steve Albini here? Make it like the 6 minute version cause i have a killer hangover.
Joanna: oh why yes my lord and allow me to show no protest with your remark about being under strong drink last night. You repeatedly called me, "hey harp maid" and continuing on with, "show me thou bosom and shake my face in your womanhood". I found it to be in poor taste sir, however I played the harp naked at your aggressive request. Does thou remember such?
Me: no
Joanna: well sir, you had me in the spirit as well. you poured me some fine wine. A concoction I had not yet heard of called Mad Dog 20/20. I was quite the submissive harlot by the stroke of midnight dear! No wonder I awaketh to the confines of my chasity belt strewn throughout your bathroom!
Me: yeah...um, can you get my tobacco pipe and go picketh the finest leafs from my garden to inhale this fine morn! Do me the pleasure of fetching my Bat for Lashes record and a few Cat Power records as I prefer to listen to them sooth me rather than your endless yodeling.
Joanna: very well my lord, as i see you speaketh different than last night when you promised me your hand in mideval battle against those who harm my people.
Me: your people? Lady, it's 2008. I was drunk. What are you talking about? Add to that your looks are just passable enough to warrant further sexist advances at this noon hour by your employer, that being myself...now put on some Dan Bejar and shut it! His metaphors will trump your nonsense!
"don't get sentimental...it always ends up drivel"