Oh man, I wish Jean Seberg would have lived next door to me growing up.



I wish Jean Seberg would have lived next door to me growing up, and not just because I would have been able to look into her bedroom window from my bedroom window, but that would have been part of it, no lie, but golly gee, she was just so neat-o, and I bet she would have looked like whipped cream and other delights in a pair of baggy blue jeans and her father's old pin stripe shirt, out washing the car on Saturday morning. Hi Rick, hi Dave, hi mom, hi dad, what's for lunch, and did Mary-Ellen call yet?