Lana Del Rey Chainsmoker • Made Girls Wet from Crying • In this $4000 Ferrari Chair •
Upon my arrival at 9PM, I found Trish Collins pie-eyed, and from my vantage, recumbent and splayed on a $4000 Ferrari Racing Chair which Enzo himself had designed and manufactured in limited edition, the condition the chair for so many years behind his desk maintained the day on which he commemorated it so.
everything which made Ferrari his unchallenged iconic combination modernity, function, design, machismo, competitive prowess, beauty, and a hundred qualities whose legend is forever storied, and grows of its own past even as its present still produces ever innovative, impractically sexy design and engineering on a yearly basis -- all by, for, or inspired in the man whose brand, fully capable of competing with product whose heritage, dynastic, classic, perfectly preserved for the ages.
Story ends abruptly when director finds lana del rey sleeping.
Calls alt deejay,boo.
THIS STORY
... boiling interlocutor
Record labels dismissed her, kickoff squads reassessed and reverse-budget engineered a decision which now pushes her out of seclusion from a secret location, a record company Trailer Park investment in New Jersey.
no place like home.
no Toto, no place like no place like home
reemergent Zarathustra-like, dancing foot-over-foot over proscenium, over herself and A&R — inauthentic
no one broke her, no one tells her undress or sundress, to keep her fucks to herself, her coprolalia tics -- her die antwoord landy dolls,
Yo-landi Visser:
racked-up, tracked-up viddy looks, like she was mad for these times ...
but it woulda been nice to kiss-a bitch who likes older guys, who had them at ‘fuck,' and who had that first impression only get made one time, like a broken clock with one hand and a shadow: it's right once a day, and if it's light out, sometimes twice.
i can’t contain my eye strain, she’s a dress flipper ...
smokes LDR Cigarettes, but got all y’all-know-what to live for, and still not give a fuck ...
for a $ 4000 ferrari chair!