Pete Doherty needs to borrow one of Jamie Hince's little neckerchiefs pronto. And then get himself on NHS Direct. Although he's probably quite happy with his little Dickensian cultivation of infected love-bites, cholera, pox and syphilis (warning: do NOT look up the latter on Wikipedia for any reason (such as fact checking) if the above has already got your stomach feeling uneasy) - it's all part of the character, innit. 

The good news is that his manager was locked up yesterday after a hit-and-run incident (Andy Boyd; the Artless Dodger to Pete's Fagin), so at least next time the shambles gets arrested (tomorrow?) there will be absolutely no one left to bail him out - his girlfriend's not exactly got the supermodel cheques coming in, has she?