I Shot a Man in Wee-no, Just to Watch Him Die

The Object of My Affection bought himself a sparkly new guitar. No, really, it's sparkly:
(Note the acoustic guitar, relegated to a position of shame in the corner.)

About an hour after the Object got the guitar, we decided to institute some new regulations in our house. These stipulate that I get to veto him playing along with the song on stereo in a different key. After much negotiation, we added a codicil that states that if and when that occurs, he gets to then try to convince me that he's developing his artistic talent. However, I reserved the right remind him why we will always have a two bedroom apartment and use this information in all future apartment considerations, until which time I get a keyboard and am in the same boat.

To be fair, the Object has no small amount of talent those skinny fingers of his. His latest project has been working on the passages from Folsom Prison Blues. I don't have the heart to tell him he can never top the all-time, greatest performance of the song: