At this rate, anyone else wanna take bets on how long it is before Mr. Hatherly
(a) starts slurring at Quinlan Terry, "Fuck off, I'm forty years younger than you - I've got my whole life ahead of me..."
(b) gets a bit big-headed about his photo essays and, at the first whiff of impeachment, begins typing so fucking hard he might break his fucking Mac book Air!!!!!
(c) implodes under the weight of both public expectation and his own potential, the epitaph on his unfinished legacy: "I'm not for sale."
Let's set the over/under at five weeks, shall we?
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment