Who loves ya, baby?

I should just sell my soul to YouTube now and be done with it.

Lucretia, My Reflection

Dominion (The Mother Russia-less edit)

I wonder how many mics, set pieces, sound guys, extras, and/or horses vanished into Patricia's hair and were never seen again.

Why is Von still playing with sticks?

(And why do I find him hotter after ten years of meth?)

This was meant to be a post about the Life Lessed Lived collection, but now I've been distracted...

Childhood's over the moment you know you're gonna die

Or in this case, when you watch the video of the NIN & Bowie "Hurt" and think, gee, Trent shouldn't sing with Bowie--it just makes him sound whiney.

Followed closely by, Maybe Trent really is better when he's producing other bands.

I think some lingering vestiges of my adolescence just rolled over and died.

On the other hand, I'm Afraid of Americans is comedy gold. (Also, full of hotness.)

Who is driving car? Trent is driving car! This cannot be!

(Yes, I'm crazed, perky, caffeinated, and writing-avoidant. Today may be a spam LJ sort of day.)

It's amazing. High doses of Andrew Eldritch and David Bowie actually reduce my hatred for mankind by startling degrees. If I watched "The Heart's Filthy Lesson" often enough, I might actually feel some sort of goodwill toward humanity. I know something will happen to undo this, sadly.

(no subject)

Goodwill toward man cannot survive more than hour at the Reserves desk. I need more Bowie, STAT.

Also, what the heck is going on in this scene? Zhirin has come home, and is about to walk in on her parents in a meeting with someone, talking about things plot-related. It would be so nice if I knew who and what those were.