Old Pete was in a recording studio last weekend, apparently not just walking around as if he was in a Tim Burton cartoon, but actually recording some of that shit music again (five seconds of hook stretched out over three and a half minutes of sonic torture - hey, daddio, get with it!) and while the paps are away the mouse will play.
Well, if you consider jacking a load of horse into your arm 'playing' that is. Pete's arm was so fed up with being used as indie's voodoo doll it decided to give up the ghost and, erm, burst ("Too much heroin and a burst artery or something - Apparenty." - Dr. HM).
Anyway, it EXPLODED while he was there and the private doctor's speed dial was rung. Problem is, by the time the doctor arrived, the drugs had kicked in on dusty Pete and he kept running away from the doctor. So in some form of opiate Benny Hill tribute they had to chase him around the room before finally manhandling him to hospital.
by Mr Holy Moly
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COMMENTS (1)
I bet every drug rehabilitation center would love to have him as a patient.