Man, I totally created that Hollywood sign from scratch! And those shiny couches -- those are really hey covered with potato sacks. And those silver records or whatever -- and Brian Molko! I know the picture sucks, but it is still the most awesokme photoshop job ever. You give me not enough credit, no sir.
It went just like this: Britt: Do you think you could write something specific? Brian: (notice how cute our names are) (In the cutest British accent ever) I don't suppose we have the time with this line and all.
He smiled at me what I think was either big or knowingly.
My interpretation: I would gladly write anything you want, sign myself away to you and write quite morbid yet lovely songs about you forever if it weren't for the public nature of this event and I must insist on holding out for a sacred event, when I can take your hand and place my single bondage chain around your finger, christen your veins with my platinum needles and liquid rapture, (possibly make you half boy), and show you personally how midnight reflects on pale skin in the garden of evil, as I see you have just recently begun your decent. (And by the way, love, I find it quite interesting that we play the exact same guitar.)
I'm pretty sure that's what he meant. Now he's wallowing in sorrow, wearing a frown, because I'm not around...
Yes, Brian and I are very intense. Oh, I should just tell you this but I am sure I will forget. I had them sign a couple things for various people but my journal for me. I always wish they would "say something" other than signing their damn, illegible name. But this lady who I don't know who she was (definitely not Brian's girlfriend) that was with them -- it would be cool if she was their bodyguard -- but anyway! She asked if I was an artist because of my journal and I stuttered and couldn't really talk and she said, no, I love it! I still couldn't really talk, but yay, someone who knows Brian thinks I am an artist and I am sure she is still talking about me on their tour bus. I am not really even this obsessed, I just have nothing better to do or think about.
you really are getting good at photoshop!!! i guess all that classtime you spend at my house is paying off...
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you are like the Grand Duchess of Computer Graphics, & also clever like, practically a criminal mastermind
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Britt: Do you think you could write something specific?
Brian: (notice how cute our names are) (In the cutest British accent ever)
I don't suppose we have the time with this line and all.
He smiled at me what I think was either big or knowingly.
My interpretation:
I would gladly write anything you want, sign myself away to you and write quite morbid yet lovely songs about you forever if it weren't for the public nature of this event and I must insist on holding out for a sacred event, when I can take your hand and place my single bondage chain around your finger, christen your veins with my platinum needles and liquid rapture, (possibly make you half boy), and show you personally how midnight reflects on pale skin in the garden of evil, as I see you have just recently begun your decent. (And by the way, love, I find it quite interesting that we play the exact same guitar.)
I'm pretty sure that's what he meant. Now he's wallowing in sorrow, wearing a frown, because I'm not around...
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that's pretty intense
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