Behold, the Albino WinoSome call Amy the "British Britney". She's more like the British Rumer with that burnt Brillo hair. It's a wonder she has any left really, after ditching the nit-infested beehive. Now that's gross.
I mean, it had to be the new hair. It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that he was stuck in solitary confinement while she had a holiday romp with her ex-boyfriend, or that she recently spent a night in a hotel with producer Marc Ronson and a mysterious little package he held in his hand. They went out for ice cream at 6 AM - you figure it out.
I give Amy mad props for getting out of town to get her shit together, which she may or may not have done. She does seem to be trying, which is more than we can say for that doodyball she married. Now Blake is threatening divorce on advice of his mummy, who's always hated Amy. Good. Let him. Then Mummy can pay his legal bills, too, and his rent when he gets out.
