Texting with Indie Boy: Gaga vs. The Clapper

(I had recently purchased several CDs, and was listening to them while at work.  An unexpected vocal track prompted me to text Indie Boy at home.)

Me:  Um, one of the songs on Mogwai’s new album uses auto-tune.  Scary.

Indie Boy:  Damn auto tune!

Me:  On another note, Lady Gaga* totally ripped a synth line from Depeche Mode’s Strangelove for one of her album tracks.

IB:  Did she give them any writing credit?

Me:  Nope.  I wonder if they’ve heard it?

IB:  I can’t imagine them being ok with someone ripping them off.  Especially someone as shitty as her who happens to be selling a lot of records.  Imagine the royalties they’re not getting!

Me:  Fletch is the business guy in the bunch.  He should go clap** at her!  In your face, Gaga!  *clap*  That would be awesome!

IB:  She wouldn’t understand.  She’d probably just clap along with him

Me:  Man, you can’t beat Andy Fletcher at the clapping game.  He’s The Clapper!  He can turn you off [and] on by the sheer force of mashing his hands together.

IB:  So he’s the “master clapper”?  The clapper who all other clappers are judged by?

Me:  I mean Gaga may emerge from an egg on the Grammies, but he will eat a banana on stage.  While “playing”.  And then, the clapping.

IB:  That is the very definition of “talent.”

Me:  He’s got a PhD in clapping, bitch!  (Side note, my autocorrect turned “bitch” into “birch”.  That makes me laugh.)

IB:  But does he have a black belt in clapping?

IB:  Or a gold medal?

Me:  Hmmm.  He does wear black a lot, so I would presume so.  He could totally clap Jet Li under a table.

Me:  Well, he’s a professional, so he wouldn’t be eligible for the Clapping Olympics.

IB:  Lady gaga should watch her back then.

Me:  Agreed.

IB:  You should send him an email so the “clapdown” can begin.

Me:  I’ll post it on their Facebook page.  That’ll get it going.

Me:  But no Tweeting.  I refuse to Tweet.

IB:  Watch out gaga!

Me:  This is why I’m glad there was no such thing as texting while I was in high school/college.  All my time would have been spent like this…

IB:  Didn’t you ever pass notes in class?

Me:  Oh, yeah.  We had notebooks full of notes back and forth.  But with texting, we wouldn’t need to be in the same class.

IB:  So true.

Me:  You do realize that this entire ridiculous conversation is going on my blog, right?

Me:  For posterity.

IB:  I wouldn’t expect anything else.

*Yes, god help me, I bought a Lady Gaga CD.  Used, though!  That’s important!  All money went to the record store only and not her.  Plus it was only six bucks.  I blame Glee for doing such a fun rendition of “Telephone” that I decided that I liked it.  Plus “ra-ra-ooh-la-la” finally worked itself into my brain.  Strangely, my favorite track on the album was “Teeth,” which is pretty much nothing like her singles.  More songs like that, and Indie Boy might not chastise me so much for owning it.

**If you don’t know what I’m talking about, just Google “Andy Fletcher” + clapping.  He’s kind of known for spending more time on stage clapping than actually playing the synth in front of him.  For  good reason.

Sadly, his Wikipedia page makes no mention of the clapping, which is just shoddy work on behalf of the contributor, in my opinion.



  1. Can his clapping save Tinker Bell and other fairies?

  2. Great now I have the Clap

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