I own this slow version of Newtown, the one with a slight limp. Everyone is missing so I'm picking up the $1 glasses and holding them to the light in shop after shop to see if any of them will please me. Spencer and the band have gone to play at some damned festival somewhere across the world. I had the idea of writing little notes to be left in people's green rooms,
Dear Placebo,
I hate you.
Dear Tricky,
What are you doing?
Dear Frente,
No really, what are you doing?
Dear Chicks on Speed,
I love you.
Spencer said he'd hide them there for me but in the end I was too drunk when he dropped me at my door and drove away.
Dear Placebo,
I hate you.
Dear Tricky,
What are you doing?
Dear Frente,
No really, what are you doing?
Dear Chicks on Speed,
I love you.
Spencer said he'd hide them there for me but in the end I was too drunk when he dropped me at my door and drove away.
Comments
-Spencer throwing himself into a giant ice bucket
-Holy Soul bass player taking a nap on stage during Frente performance
-Contaminating Brian Molko's pristine white tambourine with my hand sweat
-Watching the front man of Japanese experimental group Ghost give himself concussion while attempting to run vertically up a drumkit
Madam Squeeze
Hello.
Regards,
DS
The tales keep getting more interesting. I particularly like the ones about breakfast as it is one of my favourite meals of the day.
Regards,
DS
PS I forgot to give you that tea cup, will wash it and set it aside for next time you pop in.