Amy Winehouse is dead.
Ya know, just in case the 1000s of other news articles weren’t clear enough.
This was the first image of her when I Googled her name.
She died at 27 like so many of the greats. The only thing that is different between Amy and so many other artists that are equally as great is we are still waiting for album from Amy which isn’t shit house (C’mon, “Frank” doesn’t really count).
Thing that fucks me off is when she was alive, she was hated by everyone except a dedicated few. Mostly close relatives who considers her drug addiction a “disease”. Now that she is dead, people everywhere are swooning over her going, “WE LOVE YOU, AMY!!” Where were you hypocratic fucks when she was alive? At least I am not trying to fool anyone I give a shit about her existence either before or after her death.

Now that she has carked it, I can safe with confidence that it is truly in bad taste to imagine her horse-shaped mouth over my cock with that sexy, pasty pale, dried out skin which was stretched and taut over her face which looks like her nose is some kind of tent peg holding the whole face up with dark bags under her eyes looking up at me while she tries to get some money for blow out of me.

See? I told you still no one cares.