I woke up today after a particularly heavy night injecting pig fat into my eyebrows to give myself that 'bushy' look. Vogue rang to ask whether I had decided on the magazine shoot in Cranleigh. I asked whether pigs had been delivered to my dressing room. A good ride on a pig before a shoot helps my bones settle down. Sarah, that wh*re from Vogue, said that they couldn't find a sufficiently thin pig. I decided against the shoot; who the hell wants raised shoulders because the pig is too thin to make your bones sink down???
Spent the night talking to Johnny Depp about inhaling fox gas.
Depp rang. God! He's so boring!! He says that to get a fox filled with enough gas that me and him get off our faces would take a fox the size of a small horse. I asked him whether a horse would...