thinking about nothing but these monkees temporary tattoos that you could buy by sending $1 to flip magazine in 1968 and were apparently approved by the monkees themselves
I mean this in an incredibly nice, loving way: you are my 1960's dash simulator. Seeing you talk about wanting Mr Monkee's big nose squashed against your face gives me the same feeling I get when I read ancient graffiti. It's like I'm looking through a portal to the 60's and finding that people have always been people.