So I left London to go be with father figure Frank. To get on some kind of common ground with him. To be honest I just wanted to be on common ground with anyone because ever since Paris Hilton started wearing my darling Jill Sander, I had no one.
I packed my bags and threw some fur on. LA is a cold hearted motherfucker and I dressed for blistering cold. At the arriving hall my name was on none of the signs. There was no one there loning to see me. No handsome man all dressed in black hiding a cloud of smoke. There was no one.
At Father figure Franks house the pool was drained, but all of his furniture was still there. The closet was full. So I decided to wait for him. And so I did for three weeks.
I wandered the halls longing for him, I stayed up all night wishing that the sound of the wind was actualy the sound of his car pulling up. I was his faithfull soldier.
But little did he care.