Dear Björk Guðmundsdóttir,
I love you.
I really do.
I love you for all your weird, quirky and inventive songs. I love your half-elf, half-Icelandic lyricism. I love your cute little pixie self. I love the production values on all your records, too- you have both the piece of mind and sense of purpose to work with some really out-there folks, although I guess that's like calling the kettle black, no?
I love that we almost have the same birthday, only three days away. And I get along really well with Scorpios, both my brother and sister are Scorps. That's tight.
Holler at me.
I must also say that your videos by themselves are truly all works of art. I used to have your DVD, Greatest Hits: Volumen 1993-2003 but it was crushed in a box in my trunk when I moved to California so I sold the damaged video to Amoeba Records in Berkeley and some poor chump bought it and later realized that the three videos for Hyperballad, Possibly Maybe and I Miss You were all pixelated and fucked up and the sounds skipped and sounded like glitchy shit.
You're in me, Björk. You're a part of me- and not like that time I washed my clothes with a bag of weed in one of my pants pockets, and then I even dried it and it like totally baked the smell into that entire load of clothes for like ever, not like that. You're like, here.
Right here.
I love you so much, Björk. I'm going to prove this to you by putting three of your best albums up for "sharing" purposes. Yeah, I know, it's really stealing, but whatever, I love you, Björk.
I. Love. You.
Sincerely,
Jimmy Mac
Monday, November 15, 2010
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