about this time last year, the hitman threw this song up for Pete (PS cheaptoy: i still think that's a good name). i don't think i ever really got into how rough that week was, but i trusted the docs (not you, bS) that things would get better eventually, and they most certainly did. Pete is a crazy bastard, but i love hanging out with him (this week featured Pete and i running around manhattan by our lonesomes with literally no plans), and i perpetually can't wait to see what the next day will hold.
anyway, from some hipster's wet dream, here's the flaming lips and ESatMZs playing in the hollywood cemetery at sunrise.
again, rock on, Pete.
Wardrobe courtesy of FTLT Fashions