Paparazzi had to be the lowest vultures on the press scale. Hell, most of them weren’t even press, but assholes with cameras who sold to sleaze press. He’d worked as a bodyguard once. Just once. He could sympathize with having personal problems splashed over the papers. That is low. If they had to report it, there didn’t need to be pictures. I guess you only get privacy if you actually die from it. No one published pictures of Belushi, Farley or Ledger.”
“Nah, hairspray just causes hair loss.” Sean had managed to avoid that problem, the hairspray, not the hair loss. His hairline was NOT receding, it just dipped inward a bit, damnit. No, he skipped the hairspray so he just looked like a rabid poodle. Karen had even put a pink ribbon above one of his ears before he woke for school. “And glitter permanently damages your perceived masculinity. You may have grown out of it, Kaz, but let’s face it, you did look kinda gay covered in glitter. No matter how many groupies you collected back stage. In fact most of the big hair guys looked like they were batting for the other team with the make-up and clothes that streetwalker mimicked. Hell, Duran-Duran still looks like they have less testosterone than Ru-Paul.”
No wonder he preferred Celtic and Jazz overall. Classic Rock was fine, especially acoustical such as Kaz had done last night and Carlos Santana was close to devine, but give him Ella Fitzgerald or Louis Armstrong, Loreena Mckinnit or Celtic Storm. Okay the Eagles broke all barriers, who didn’t like the Eagles?
“I’ve had my own run in with the press. Ended in a lawsuit that helped pay some medical expenses.” One of the reasons HE’D avoided the nosey Brit. As if HE wasn’t nosey enough for everyone. But his digging was in an attempt to expose potential wrongdoing, not to pander to the masses.