You’d have to have a heart of coal to not care a jot about the passing of Amy Winehouse. That, or you’re indulging in an exercise in nose-pulling by saying cruel things for the sake of it, just to wind everyone up.
What kind of scumbag would do that sort of thing, eh?
Still, while we all scurry around the floor crying and braying, Blake Fielder-Civil is taking a little from column A and a little from column B as he’s more than prepared to show how inconsolably hurt he is by all this, mixed with a need to rinse Winehouse’s cadaver for a few quid. He’s approaching the world of Paul Burrell, the arena of the overwrought vulture.
Amy Winehouse has taken a rare wrong turn in her otherwise nondescript life. Thus far, her life has been about merry walks in the park on sunny days and staying as far away as she can from yucky things like crack.
So, it’s over. Amy Winehouse and Blake 

Think of some of the greatest jobs in the world from a purely money-making perspective and ‘Amy Winehouse’s drug dealer’ is sure to pop up near the top of the list.

