The Windmill Club ain’t fucking around. "She said, ‘Don’t make others suffer for your personal hatred.'” WOAH. Spread club collar? Bar tacked double zero on the back? A black and white lookbook shot by young Liam Gaws? FUCK SON, I WANT TO BE THIS COOL. I want to be drinking and smoking and doing what I imagine to be things people in Los Angeles do all the time. Namely, smoke drugs with models in their lingerie in a perfectly mid-century modern house, drink booze for breakfast and drive around with my boys in a fucking dope car, while one of us skitches on back with a fucking road flare. Right now we trade in loose morals, hash and cool clothes. But pretty soon we’ll get AKs and rob a bank or break into an abandoned motel or some shit. WE'RE STEALING BECAUSE WE WANT TO NOT BECAUSE WE NEED TO. MOODY BROODY HOOLIGANS.
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