Kate Moss does not grow fat on a rolling stone
There's this guy, an underwater guy who controls the sea.
No there isn't. I got sidetracked there.
Now where was I? There's this guy. Oh yes ...
There's this guy, a skinny, middle aged kind of guy (as opposed to the middle ages kind of guys who square off against the Motley Crue kind of guys downstairs), who sits all day outside a well patronised Perth grog garden bumming beers, and stopping passers-by for spare change.
He's a little bit scary, usually very scruffy, but generally pretty happy. A bit like I'd be if I was bumming beers all day.
Anyhow, today I managed to avoid him, and instead he collared a yuppy who was walking in front of me: "Maaaaate, can I buy a cigarette?"
Nothing strange about this. Except I reckon our skinny, middle aged, little bit scary, usually very scruffy, generally pretty happy kind of guy had had a makeover.
Instead of his usual Ken Done T-shirt, trackies and thongs, he wore a navy jacket, striped polo shirt, navy deck shoes and, if I'm not mistaken, a pair of Gap jeans. And he was strutting around like Mick Jagger. If Mick Jagger were an Emo, that is.
And he looked way healthier than Pete Doherty ever does.