Happy birthday to Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards, who turns 70 today. His face turned 70 about 15 years ago, his liver has to be 490 (I'm assuming seven years is a Keith Richards liver year, like dog years), but his guitar riffs are timeless. In spite of his notorious partying, apparently the closest he came to overdosing is that a band named themselves Keith Richards Overdose, he shrugged of brain surgery that was required after he fell while climbing a tree in his 60s, and I'm pretty sure he wasn't kidding (as he later stated he was) when he claimed to have snorted some of his dead father's ashes. And at this point I'm becoming convinced he'll outlive us all. Happy birthday Keith, you magnificent bastard.
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