They'll inherit your blood

I don't know if you can call it "delicious" (unless your taste buds are acclimated to cocaine, garden sod, tobacco or hooker's knee pits), but Keith Richards is apparently writing a memoir, due out in 2010. You might be thinking, "Well, gee. It's 2007. 2010 seems like an awfully long way off, doesn't it? I mean, that's three years from now. Surely they could crank that tome out earlier than that."

To which I riposte: It's Keith Richards. He can barely remember where he left his knee pits.

Nevertheless, I'm going to update my iCal to reflect this occasion.

I'd like a memoir from each of the 'Stones, actually. Charlie Watts, especially, because I've got a thing for drummers. I just found out that he has this habit of sketching every hotel room he ever stays in; 'just diagrams the layout of the furniture and the art on the walls. That's crazy. I also think it'd be great to hear about that time he punched Mick. "Don't ever call me your drummer again. You're my fucking singer."

God, it would have been great to've been a roadie/groupie for the 'Stones. '69-'74, preferably.

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