#xpaperbackwriter

[thesmartonex-blog]

Send My Love to You ✌

                                                                                                                  December 2nd, 1942

       Dear Paul,               

        My dear, I miss you already! Although German winters are quite nice, what with the sub zero temperatures and all I’d much rather be back in good ol’ Brittan with you. These bloody gloves are the worst to write in but if I take one off I’m losing my fucking finger so bare with me here on my handwriting.

       But speaking of winter gear I don’t think I’ve ever been colder in my life, they have us trekking fucking everywhere and I’m starting to believe I’m the only one who has a problem with it. Everyone around here is so solemn... Maybe it’s the yank’s here; they’re bloody rude and try to fight yours truly. (Well, I mean, I’m not the most polite either but still.)

       I have the cologne you’ve given me from Hamburg and trying not to break this glass container is more treacherous then I would’ve ever thought it to be. Some of the boys carry around panties, though, which is daft. Why ruin panties? They’re good until you take them out with your spunk on them and they freeze, though it’s pretty entertaining because everyone knows what’s happened. I’ve laughed at quite a few instances but sometimes it even hurts to breathe because of how harshly cold everything is. Everything’s been put in deep freeze.

      Well, writing time’s almost up because we have to head out again soon and I really just want to get this finished and send it out to you so you know how I’m doing. Plus, you get to answer back sooner! I’ll give Hitler a few good beamers for you.                                                            

            Yours truly,                                  

      John Winston Lennon 

[thesmartonex-blog]

A Lost Boy

      A regular night in Hamburg, that’s all it was, or rather that’s all it was supposed to be. The four boys had gone out to a local pub, just as they always did, but rather than playing a set they were just observing tonight.  

    John had cornered a dainty little bird early in the night, the last few hours filled with flirting and drinks being passed around, all bought by John, of course. When everybody had began to file out the girl, now known as Jessica, tugged at the musician’s hand, leading him down the alley that was adjacent to the bar. And the two began to go at it, Jessica soon wrapped around John, their lips interlocked like they had been acquainted. So when things began to get more heated and her lips traveled down the boys neck he thought nothing of it, even leaning into the touch before little nips turned into full fledged bites.  

   “Oi!” He let out a little noise of surprise and tried to pry the girl off but it was futile, and before long his vision was clouded with black. John crumpled to the pavement when she fled at the sound of voices calling out to the young guitarist, who had been thrown into full fits of convulsion. The blood that had been pouring from his mouth stained his cheeks, his eyes vacant. 

[imringostarr]

"Ringo," He takes a shirt and places it over the drummer's head. "Packing."

He turns around a bit, face still covered with the shirt. “Packing,” he chimed.

[mccartneymadness]

I was wondering if you could please help me with finding some kind of article or interview with Paul during the Beatlemania part of his career where one of the questions is about his preference in women? I've been looking all over, but I can't seem to type the right combination of words. It's for a thread I'm doing, and I'd like to keep Paul as realistic as possible with his answer, you know? So if you could help, that'd be really great! ^u^

It was pretty difficult to find him answering that exact question in an interview but I looked through this site for interview transcriptions and i found this in a 1964 interview:

Q: "What do you think of the American girls as opposed to British girls?" Paul: "They're all good, you know."

This might be a better answer but he said this in 1997:

 Paul: John and I lusted after Brigitte Bardot in our teen years and tried to make our girlfriends look like her. She was it, she was the first, she was one of the first ones you ever saw nude or semi-nude. She was a great looker, and she was French. So Brigitte for us, with the long blonde hair and the great figure and the little pouty lips, was the epitome of female beauty, but if she hadn't whipped them off, she might not have been quite so attractive. It was the fact that she was thought to have loose morals; we could fantasize that she did anyway. She was pretty cool. John once met her. Didn't get on very well. I think he was trying to shag her and I think he was probably drunk and I think he probably misbehaved and was boorish, which was well possible.               I had a girlfriend called Dot, Dorothy Rohne, who was my steady girlfriend for quite a long time in Liverpool. She and John's girlfriend, later wife, Cynthia Powell, came over to Hamburg and I remember buying her a leather skirt and encouraging her to grow her hair long so she'd look like Brigitte. She was a blonde. Cynthia had the same thing, tight skirt, long blonde hair. Cynthia wasn't actually a blonde but John got her to dye it blonde to look a bit more like Brigitte. I remember he and I talking and saying, 'Yeah, well, the more they look like Brigitte, the better off we are, mate!'