Hitchens: Hello, welcome to blogging heads. I am Christopher Hitchens from Vanity Fair magazine and today we are talking with Amy Winehouse who is coming to us from a crack house in Kennsington.
Winehouse: It’s in Mayfair actually luv.
Hitchens: Whatever. Well Amy you seem to be in the news lately. It seems your father is worried about you, that your crack smoking has so damaged your lungs that you won’t be able to breathe, let alone sing. What do you have to say about that?
Winehouse: It’s just me Da worrying. It’s sweet. Isn’t your Da worried that you are drunk all the time. How about the time you puked on Mother Theresa.
Hitchens: I stated that I spit on Mother Theresa not that I "puked" as you say. I only expectorate when it it political motivated. It’s political commentary not gastric distress. The only gastric distress I have is when I see a picture of you running around in the tabloids in your knickers looking for drugs. You look like an emaciated lemur searching for a crack pipe.
Winehouse: Bluurrrppp (vomits a little in her mouth). You’re so smart with you fancy words. You’re just a bugger. A dirty bugger,like the buggers that are buggering my fiancé while he’s in prison. You bugger.
Hitchens: Well this is definitely going to be a battle of wits today. It’s almost as bad as the time that crazed blond woman went off her nut while debating that hippie chick with the moustache Garage Frankenfurter or whatever her name might have been. This is quite depressing.
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2 comments:
A little in-joke for Althousers, eh?
You might say that but you didn't hear it from me.
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