Alex James' autobiography,
bit of a blur.
He did all the naughty things pop stars should do, and loved every minute of it. My personal favorites:
* selecting the 5 prettiest fans in Sao Paolo and bringing them upstairs for an all-night romp interrupted only by breaks for more drugs & champagne
* drunkenly locking his wife out of their house, climbing the stairs, opening the upstairs window, and peeing on her head
* being driven around Atlanta at top speeds in a souped up sportscar by a red-hot, tequila-swigging ex-girlfriend (yes,
girlfriend, allegedly) of Michael Stipe's
He's a Dorset boy, by the way. Blur = totally fake cockneys.
Epoisses, what was your britpop haiku again?