I grew up in a small town in West Virginia, and most of my family lived in our neighborhood or very close by. I had my grandparents down the street, my great-grandmother next door, and my great-aunt and great-uncle one door down.
My mother and my great-aunt told me stories, like how when my grandfather first met my grandmother at a party, he noticed her long legs and was like, 'Woo woo!' I like to incorporate those stories into my music. They just seem to fit.
My grandmother died in childbirth, and my great-aunt lived with us. She had bound feet. She never knew how to read or write.
[last lines]
Uncle Fester: Children, look. Great-Aunt Lavinia! She was beheaded by her own children!
Wednesday, Pugsley: Yay!
