This is my way of getting back at her for buying me dinner the other week. Don't ask. It'll just confuse you. I know I'm confused as heck by it.
The shot itself was taken at a hotel in Florence. I wouldn't recommend it unless you like being woken up constantly by the noise of motor bikes. It's a decent place, but it's in a really loud section of town. Just about anything near the center of the city's loud, though, so it's no fault of the hotel.
The flowers aren't mine, by the way. Where my head is, there should have been a bust of Jim, but apparently, it was stolen a while back by some Morrison fans who thought that it was desecrating his memory. Personally, I just think that it was some drunk Parisians who, finding out that there weren't any Bob's Big Boys statues to steal, picked the next best thing.
I can't think of anything even half-way witty to say right now. I'm actually doing this from work, and I should be working, but that would make sense.
Oh, by the way, Chris, Kay, Alasdair, if you're reading this, I've just lost all respect for you. Same goes for you, too, Paul, because I don't think I've had the chance to do it lately.