I met with Lovefoxxx the other day, and took her up on her offer of making love and listening to Death From Above 1979. I had hardly taken my shirt off by the time the bodyguards came in to remove me from the premises.
Feeling sorry for myself, I travelled to New York to ask Talking Heads if they were interested in some casual suburban arson. Similar outcome - they certainly weren't up for burning down the house. What the hell is wrong with the music world?
I didn't stop believing though, as Journey once told me, so I pushed for one last meeting. Sadly, INXS didn't need me tonight, and told me to just keep walking. Twunts.
Restraining orders are shit.
And to think that the only musician to tell me I'm the best friend that they've ever had is dead. Seems that Fred's passing held me back from stopping him now.
Note to other fans out there: Run DMC don't enjoy you masturbating at their concerts, even though they themselves promote beats to the rhyme.
1 comment:
I'm starting to think that Craig David might have been making it all up.
Yeah. But Major Tom was a junkie.
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