I was out the other night with a chum who described driving a new Ford Mustang in the United States as slow and lumpy. He managed to get a speeding ticket nevertheless, but only with effort.
By contrast Ford Mustang of Serge Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin is a brilliant entente cordiale on wheels.
Serge Gainsbourg may have been valuable not only for his services to music and harassing Whitney Houston on television, but also to all men who resemble a badly groomed badger on the hunt for sex. How he ever secured the affections of Birkin is a mystery, but he was, even when alcohol had rendered him foul to the rest of the world, a quite brilliant musician.
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