Robbie, my darling, my favorite most sexy pop idol ever. What are you thinking? You’re just out of rehab (I did love your statement that you were in for addiction to caffeine; we could be roommates) and you’re hanging out with this walking petri dish? Don’t the counselors at your rehab give you a talking-to about hanging out with known addicts? Or is that just in prison?
Robbie, my sweet, you’re getting into Carson Daly manorexia territory. You look like the undead and not in a good way. I always liked you with a bit more meat on your bones and now you’re just the bones. Why don’t you just swig down a bottle of Jack Daniels and be done with it? At least you took better pictures when you were hammered.