16th April 2001

I bought leather pants this weekend, and they’re fabulous. They make me want to pose instead of standing still. They make me want to take up chain smoking. They make me want to pout out angry lyrics and crawl catlike toward a video camera while underage models writhe seductively in the soft-focus background. Man, nothing screams rock star like wrapping your legs in dead cow.

2:28 p.m.