alternate ending.

there was a time when i was slightly embarrassed to mark pete doherty as one of my heroes. biggest rock star in the uk, yet belly broke? constantly shooting drugs yet as lucid as if he'd been chewing flinstones vitamins? a menace II society, bashing about albion in margaret thatcher-era jaguars, perpetually under arrest? going to rehab like most people go to safeway? this is your hero kasai? jesus.
(scornful looks and scoffing ensue)

exactly.

look at what the last few months have brought for the kid and you'll know who's got the last laugh you squares.

hell, there was a time when even pete-o-philes like myself thought he would be strung out and dead at the crime scene by now, particularly after the whole blood painting scenario. but i guess that's the thing about expectations. just prospecting. like playing the lotto. can't count us out, can't keep us down!

shine on you tiny diamond!

You go grrrrl!

conformist's choice... identify yourself, cuz there's been a lot of enemies at the gates and i won't fall for their tomfoolery more than twice, got a vice grip on life and i refuse to let them fuck up my shine. put it there buddy. i was raised by vipers that'd spit in your eye as soon as look at cha, bit me about the face (repeatedly) when i was an infant to make me into a real man. no water in the desert, no rest for the weary and no heartbeat in this chest cavity, just pure fucken fire, got it? an eternal joyride that no one's troubling themselves with lately. they say the universe has no edge but i've seen it, been there, done that, cowabunga dudes, messed me up real bad though. because now, like right now, i know i can't die, know that i cannot be fazed by earthly delights and diamond nights with emerald eyed girls. i'm here for my thrills, so leave the pills under the doormat. i get paid next friday, can't wait to live life my way.