Jimmy Stone is an idiot, who is arrested in pretty much every other universe for too many drugs, and too little common sense. He wasn't talented, and I was very young and naive and believed if I just clapped my hands and believed in him hard enough, he would make it big and fulfill all our dreams, and I was just desperate to get away from my Mum, and young enough to be taken in by any angle of the London underground scene.

I was covering his rent and workin' two jobs so he could practice all day, but he went off and got engaged to a woman named Noosh in Norway. Everything bad happens to me in Norway.

His band never could decide on a genre either. I was an idiot enough to think that was just because they were on the cutting edge of creating a whole new genre unknown to everyone at the time. After a few months, it got obvious that they were just too busy partying to actually commit to practice and not really good enough to pull off grunge, punk, rock, death metal, or anything else.

Sting really wrote some weird stuff, huh? I still don't get the metaphors in Kiss From a Rose on the Grey. No wait. Was that Seal? Argh whatever. The Beatles are better.