Another 'thank fuck I'm not alone' book

Read this - Some Other Rainbow - during the younger, very severe stalker & Stockholm Syndrome years, and it was slight salvation, as was the club Ayres Rock in Earl's Court Road. I was able to escape and have a drink and a bop now and then at weekends, fucking bliss. I love to dance. I fucking love dancing. Back is bad now but I used to adore the bop over anything else. Free style but good (modern jazz and ballet classes were hated but learned me a bitta class moves) Liked a bloke there called Jonas, the Jesus-a-like manager dude. Gave him a copy of it in the hope he'd ask me why I couldn't articulate reasons.  Again - all these ego's assume you want to fuck them, never that you have something of slightly more significant importance to convey. He said 'I want to make love to you Liz'. My deflated grey-purple aura said 'I thought you had a brain, but it is only ever your dick talking' Still, he was adored and never let me buy a drink, fucking saint. I used to play this a lot (as well as perseverating on Iggy ('Passenger') )
Loved to shouty sing to this when a bit pissed