My statement to follow may seem a little drastic and out of character to some :
You couldn't get me to attend an Amy Winehouse concert even if you paid for my tickets.
This may baffle some of my friends who'll remember my long lost days of bitter melancholy, silently proclaiming (to myself) that she was the only one who understood my misery. I shed many a tear droning on about some poor sod who messed about with another poor sod i.e. moi . How I sat there clinging helplessly to the brutally honest lyrics of self pity by this extremely talented British female singer.
I won't be attending any Wino gigs in the near future, not until she clears her act up. At least a drunk shambling singing Peter Doherty doesn't sound like a strangled cat trying to let a big one out on the bog when he's drunk!
Use the mic properly not the bottle Amy!
