(Keiichi is rich now BTW)
I am p.b. and jelz of Terry Richardson. All he does is ride his bike, have three-hour lunches with pals, listen to K-Rock and take pictures of ten’s tits. Some of the women that walk into his studio for go-sees are so fucking hot, the only joke I can muster is the Ralph-Kramden-caught-in-the-headlights thing where you’re like, “Aba babab ba baba baa b ab.” They don’t laugh because they’re familiar with how verklempt they make men and it’s boring now.

When Terry isn’t looking really closely at stunners, he’s traveling around the world first class to attend openings where sycophants from Paris to Tokyo kiss his ass. What a life.
I’m not saying he didn’t work to get there. Sure being Bob’s son helped but the guy busted his ass for years and was so destitute after ten years of going nowhere, he made a pact to commit suicide at 30. Sometimes I wish he had.

PS: Shout outs to Barfin Arfin for p.b. and jelz.

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