This image was lost some time after publication, but you can still view it here.


Drawn like a cripple to the healing waters at Lourdes, we felt compelled to make a pilgrimage to a site similarly touched by otherworldly power: the Melrose Avenue t-shirt shop where one Britney Spears composed her incredible Graffiti of Truth on a wall.

Yes, it looks much the same in person, but in the interest of preserving this wonder for future generations of pilgrims, it's now been encased in a protective layer of plexiglass. A magazine spread heralding the Graffiti's virtues is framed and mounted above it, forming a kind of meta-monument to the now-sacred locale.

We'd heard rumors of the Graffiti of Truth's mystical, restorative properties, and after mere moments absorbing Spears' scribbled wisdom, our hangover quickly started to fade. We felt instantly, electrically alert, and our mouth was suddenly filled with the unmistakable metallic aftertaste of a greedily imbibed Red Bull. We raised a hand to touch the Graffiti, suddenly drawn to trace the words with a searching finger, but drew it back when we realized that our outstretched palm was displaying what can only be described as a stigmata of orange Cheeto dust; we hadn't touched a bag of the cheesy delights in months.

Confident that our time with the Graffiti was over, we stepped away from the wall and snapped this camera-phone picture of the shrine. We knew that when we returned home, we'd happily recount our pilgrimage to the fellow seekers here at Defamer.