July 24th, 2011
kvitsh
That twerp, all eyeliner and lager dithering up Chalk Farm Road under a back-combed barnet, the lips that I’d only seen clenching a fishwife fag and dribbling curses now a portal for this holy sound. So now I knew. She wasn’t just some hapless wannabe, yet another pissed up nit who was never gonna make it, nor was she even a ten-a-penny-chanteuse enjoying her fifteen minutes. She was a fucking genius.
For Amy « Russell Brand
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@Kvitsh

Misanthropic wench kicking at the darkness 'till it bleeds daylight. I take pictures and play ukulele.