When I was nineteen, I didn’t have any gigantic teddy bears or rapey duet partners dressed as Beetlejuice. But the apartment did have a Target floor lamp. “Put on some stripper music!” I said. I mean, maybe I said that. I can only remember that night in movie snippets, probably imagined up from bits of […]Read more "I Love Lamp: Tales of Miley Deja Vu"