surprise

Tell me this isn't all just an excuse to get in my pants. Oh, it is. Mm-hmm. Everything is.

northern downpour sends it’s love

Patty ‘ride or die’ uris:

I have been thinking a lot about teenage fever, about being a girl and about my exes. About love and how to find it, where I left it I can’t remember. About body heat and human touch - it’s been about 8 months. About how I usually have no idea how to spend my time - but I don’t want to waste it. Sometimes that fear is paralyzing and I have to put colors back in my hair. Sometimes the fear is liberating as Julian and I wind around Mulholland crying about how many problems we don’t have…We sat at the French bar for a little bit too long last night, looking at

the grey suits eating their caesar salads alone. Is that type of future inevitable? Not for a girl like me - but I’ve never been one to be good at pretending to know what I’m doing.

“If you love something, give it away”

I remember a movie on, and the pouring rain, and ugly burgundy carpet - some air bnb, a stranger’s house, in the middle of - maybe it was somehwere in Texas? I get the cities mixed up. But there was a vegan restaurant down the street and everyone seemed excited about that - Ronnie. That was the night we went out to hang with the other boys in an even smaller hotel room, standing in a small circle in the parking lot, me with my camcorder trying to remember everything, shotgunning beers in the shower, jumping on the bed - or maybe we didn’t. I remember having the day off and feeling alright with staying in bed all day - stillness for the first time in my life like warm bath water.

we had a lot of good nights that month - almost perfect nights, you know, the rare ones. the ones that are sore on the brain later. Kansas City - I forget now what the house was called, something manor. there was graffitti everywhere, mattress that had been stabbed to feather death blooming with filling, dead christmas lights, bathroom sink melodrama, bodies draped over the furniture like expensive winter coats. downstairs in the basement I watched a band called Clean Spill sing their garage anti-melodies, pushing, smiling into a mosh pit, slipping onto the floor and immediately yanked back up by a strange, beaming face. dripping sweat, drooling beauty, bleached hair and aching for a shower but that night the kids were going to be all right.

Roger and Freddie have such great vocal chemistry??????

The bass SLAPS HARD??!? Like DEAKY BRO THIS IS GREAT!!!

Finally Freddie and Roger screaming to Brian during his solo is GREAT