Zimmerman

As we were watching Tuckshop-Lady-Arms Kate beat out Shut-That-F***ing-Cry-Baby-Up Emily in the Australian Idol Grand Final last night, Flatmate A decided to register her disgust, hatred, dislike of being referred to as Flatmate A in my blog.

Since she doesn't want me to use her real name either, I was left in a bit of a quandry.

Should I not mention her at all? Would be a shame, since she is a very funny person and has provided a wealth of inspiration for this blog (the recent Dewey Decimal post being one of the many pearlers she has come up with).

I asked her to provide a nom de plume which was to her liking.

Zimmerman was her first choice.

She's a big Bob Dylan fan. Actually, I would add '-atic' to that. As in fanatic. I was forced into an internet search the other night in her quest to find the perfect poster of the man as a youngster to frame and put up somewhere in our house. We spent hours trawling through site after site before she finally decided to purchase the first poster we had looked at.

Geez.

Personally, I'm not a fan of the man. Its that nasal voice. I just can't understand what he's saying. The lack of annunciation sh*ts me. Clear speech Bob. Its not that difficult. And it will get your message across much more effectively.

But I digress.

From this moment, I declare Flatmate A to be re-christened Zimmerman.

That ok Lisa?