A melancholic extraterrestrial, crazy, wild, zany, unique, powerful, in focus, 80s, posing for a band photo, perched on Emory University's steps, seeks solace in a vibrant green hued smoldering cigarette as his wrecked spacecraft burns. Honestly, the coolest alien you'll ever meet, women are drawn to her like flies, they're just so damn chill and badass, and ze dresses to the nines, Pen State, full of happy students, an otherworldly being wearing 90s slacker clothes sits in dejection, photographed by esteemed War photographer, cigar in mouth, puffing thick turquoise, the ruins of her vessel ablaze. The whole album was truly beautiful, zen, moving, radical, really, for the 90s, and I don't honestly know how the fuck we deserved it, A forlorn visitor from the stars, grounded by misfortune in the year 2010, finds bitter respite in huffing a dreamy purple mist doobie as her bling bling ship smolders in ruin. Produced by Wes Anderson. She's hot, sexy, punk: intense sex appeal, tagged as gross, creepy, unsettling, bizarre, and bokeh, in a 1970s um, uh, an award winning motion picture, Ridley Scott directs as, outside the NYU campus, a pink rhinestone encrusted alien figure contemplates their plight, exhaling cold tinted vapor from their beside the flaming husk of their crashed ship