Amy says (about Lindsay): "I want to coddle that girl. I really want to hug her," and "I saw pictures of her coming out of the doctor's [office], and she's crying. She's holding papers in her hand, like, 'Oh, it's a note from my liver saying, "Dear Lindsay, I've gone to Vegas!"
First of all, is that an example of her wit? Because if it is, that's pathetic. Second, Amy needs to worry about her own friggin' liver. All she does is stumble around drunk and let people like Kelly Osbourne catch her before she falls on her anorexic tattooed ass. Who the fuck is she to talk about anyone else? Her pissed off liver jumped ship two albums ago. She'd best not fark with The Blow. Lindsay will bite her and smack her with the bible, then snatch her beehive off and shove it in her drunken poon.
I am quickly becoming UN-enchanted with Winehouse.
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