Denzel Washington spent the month of July on a yacht with his wife rippin’ and tearin’ and guzzling down booze like a human funnel and channeling a 1994 spring break and just generally living the dream. Literally a tear fell from my eye when I pictured waking up every morning for 30 days on a million-dollar yacht and doing nothing but dry humping margaritas till I fell asleep on a pile pool noodles. But apparently the shame sector in Denzel Washington’s brain is still functioning (mine dried up the second I drank an entire 2L bottle of Chi-Chi’s Mexican Mudslide) because TMZ says that the second the boat docked, he got out and took a taxi straight to rehab to dry out.
A source close to Denzel claims that the actor spent the past two weeks detoxing at a residence in Orange County after he pumped his veins full of the good shit, the bad shit, and everything in between. Apparently it wasn’t just for booze; Denzel was there to cleanse his body of “toxins”, and was working with a chef, a trainer, and a nutritionist to do so. After two weeks in the ‘hab, he’s out and back to his regular old self.
Who knew that Denzel Washington was such a party animal?? I always thought he was a serious quiet gentleman who read leather-bound books and took Italian cooking classes and took piano lessons in his spare time. Turns out you put the dude on a boat with a couple of Mai Tais, and he turns into a Lohan-level MESS.
And I like that Denzel went to rehab for something that all of us do during the months of July and August anyway. Sure, maybe we don’t rent a yacht, but the second the clock hits 11:59pm on June 30th, you, me, and everyone else with low immune systems catches Summer Fever and we don’t stop guzzling the sweet stuff till Labor Day. Right? It’s not just me? Please tell me it’s not just me. “It’s just you trick” – the bottle of ‘daytime’ sangria in my fridge.
In an article that could have been written by Doge and titled: “Wow, much mess, so surprise”, The Toronto Star claims that Toronto Mayor Rob Ford, was a dumb destructive asshole during his two-month stay in rehab. According to several sources, the human version of ham smell spent most of his time at the GreeneStone rehab facility acting like the sweaty, bloated, grown-up Costco-sized version of Justin Bieber by terrorizing other patients, and not just with his rancid fried chicken farts (but I mean, come on, those were probably an issue too):
During the morning group sessions, where residents are encouraged to share their deepest secrets, Ford was abusive to other residents, shouting them down, refusing to listen, swearing constantly, sources told the Star.
In the hallways and common areas, Ford argued, pushed and shoved other patients who were angry that Ford had “brought his circus with him,” sources said.
“We are not paid enough to deal with this guy,” one counsellor remarked during a conversation with another counsellor.
“Rob Ford literally had the run of the place. There were no rules around Rob Ford,” said another source.
And even though he was at GreeneStone, he might have still been trying to score that white rock:
Management was concerned Ford continued to use drugs or alcohol during his time in rehab. The Star was unable to determine if Ford abused any substances during his two month stint.
GreeneStone’s wooded property has a well known “nature walk” and a concern of staff is that some residents meet their drug dealers or people providing alcohol at the far end of the walk.
Walk? Far? Oh, never mind then. He definitely wasn’t getting any drugs from his dealer. But he was clearly on something! I bet it was animal tranquilizers. That crafty crackie probably wandered around rehab naked hoping someone would mistake him for an albino grizzly bear and call animal control. Then he’d sit back, relax, and wait for the drugs to be delivered directly into his neck via tranquilizer dart.
After getting escorted out of Cabaret in handcuffs for slapping asses and smoking, and trying to get a stranger to punch him outside of a strip club, and fucking with a homeless dude, and spitting at police officers, Shia LaBeouf, or somebody in Shia’s life, thought it would be a good idea for him to have a seat somewhere and deal with whatever it is he’s going through. Shia’s terror on Times Square ended this weekend when he flew his ass back to L.A. L.A. braced itself thinking that Shia would pick up where Amanda Bynes and Lindsay Lohan left off by either clipping a baby’s stroller with his car while drunk driving or by having a long conversation with hangers while spending hours trying on jeggings in a dressing room. But apparently, Shia has finally checked himself into rehab.
X17 (via HuffPo) has been stalking Shia’s house and they say that earlier today, he was seen carrying around an Alcoholics Anonymous Big Book. Hours later, Shia left his house and x17′s paps followed him to a rehab facility where a security guard and a nurse greeted him. X17′s pap must also freelance as a mind reader (Watch yourself, Long Island Medium, because x17′s pap is coming for your gig), because he said that Shia didn’t want to go:
“Shia was nervous; he didn’t look good all morning. He was looking down and wasn’t even talking to his driver. It looked like he didn’t want to do it, but he knew he had to.”
A few years ago, Shia admitted to Parade Magazine that he had a major problem with the sweet nectar. Shia has tried to clean up with the help of AA for years and he’s been on and off the wagon. Shia is most likely in rehab to deal with his booze issues, but he could also be in there to deal with his severe addiction to nutsack-strangling man leggings.
Somebody reminded me that Even Stevens was a Disney show, which makes Shia one of Mickey Mouse’s former hos. Damn you, Mickey! You got another one. Dateline NBC really needs to conduct an undercover investigation into Mickey Mouse’s finances and dealings. They’d probably discover that Mickey is the largest owner of rehab joints in the country! That’s Mickey’s game. Mickey milks as much cash out of his child stars while they’re cute and young and as soon as they grow pubes, he throws them out into the streets, knowing that they’ll probably turn to the bottle to deal with being one of his former puppets. Then when they have a full-fledged problem, they’ll check into a rehab facility that’s probably owned by Mickey. Mickey makes money off of them when they’re young and cute and he makes money off of them when they’re down and out. Mickey Mouse is the devil and must be stopped!
Since Allison’s Canadian, she should really be handling this one, but she’s not around right now, because she’s standing outside of Mayor McCrackie’s mansion with a sign that reads, “I STAND BY CRACKIE.” Or maybe she’s out celebrating the fact that the streets of Toronto are safe again since Rob Ford is drying out in rehab.
Everyone’s favorite pussy-eating, crack-smoking mayor announced tonight that he’s taking a leave of absence to get treatment for a “substance abuse” problem and that substance is either crack or pussy, but I’m going to take a wild guess that it’s crack. Rob Ford didn’t decide on his own that he should finally roll on into rehab to try to kick his hunger for crack. A new crack-smoking video and a new drunken audio clip helped him make that decision. The Globe and Mail says that a sequel to Rob Ford’s unreleased crack-smoking video from last year is making the rounds and they’ve seen it. The video was shot by a dealer in Rob Ford’s sister’s basement at around 1am on Saturday. The dealer claims he’s got three videos of Rob Ford smoking crack and he wants six figures for all of them. That dealer must’ve inhaled a whole lot of second-hand crack smoke, because bitch is crazy for thinking those videos are worth six figures. That shit isn’t even worth six pennies. I’ve heard so many stories about Rob Ford smoking crack that I feel like I’ve already seen him smoking crack. And in his sister’s basement? I guess a family that smokes crack together, stays togethers. (“That’s right!” – White Oprah)
The Toronto Sun says that on Monday night Rob Ford was at his most Rob Ford-iest at a bar in Etobicoke. When Rob Ford wasn’t trying to fight with people at the bar, he was downing tequila and talking shit about his wife and his mayoral opponent Karen Stintz. Someone at the bar secretly taped Rob and gave the clip to The Toronto Sun (you can hear it here).
The audio recording, covertly taped by a patron of Sullie Gorman’s Monday night, captures the mayor being unruly as he’s ordering booze at the Royal York Rd. bar, complaining about his wife Renata and making lewd comments about mayoral contender Karen Stintz.
“I’d like to f—–g jam her (Stintz), but she doesn’t want … I can’t talk like this…I’m so sorry,” Ford is heard saying on the recording. “I forgot there’s a woman in the house.”
According to one witness, Ford was seen buying shooters and tequila and trying to fight with patrons Monday.
“He was really wasted,” said the witness. “And he was acting like a real ass.”
Rob’s currently campaigning for reelection in October and he said that his team is hoping he won’t drop out. As the crack dealers of Toronto softly weeped while walking toward the unemployment line, Rob released a long ass statement and here’s a piece of it:
Today, after taking some time to think about my own well-being, how to best serve the people of Toronto and what is in the best interests of my family, I have decided to take a leave from campaigning and from my duties as Mayor to seek immediate help.
I have tried to deal with these issues by myself over the past year. I know that I need professional help and I am now 100% committed to getting myself right.
I love the people of Toronto, I love being your mayor and I hope you will continue to stand by me.
We all know what’s going to happen next. After Rob Ford gets out of rehab, Oprah’s going to interview him and give him a docu-series on OWN. I can’t wait to see the waterfalls of sweat trickle down his face when Oprah tells him to cut the bullshit. And it’s times like these when I really miss Chris Farley. Think of the skits he could’ve done on SNL. Think of the skits.
Rob “The Sock One” Kardashian has always been the most difficult-to-pimp hooker on the roster of Pimp Mama Kris’s Klassy EsKorts (30% discount on all hookers not named Kim) since all he really does is eat, tweet, sell socks, and take up extra space in the bordello. But leave it to that shrewd pimp to find a clever way to make a buck off of even the most useless of her offspring (and that says a lot).
According to Radar, a source close to The Sock One (Pimp Mama Kris with a home-made sock puppet named Tha Source) has entered The Meadows, a treatment centre in Arizona (yes, the same Meadows that Selena Gomez went to when she was fighting her addition to Doucheahol) and will stay for about a month to treat depression and substance-abuse issues. “To find out exactly what substance Rob has been abusing, tune in next season to KUWTK!” - Kris Jenner, as she’s fanning the ink dry on another deal with Satan.
I actually have a soft spot in my heart for The Sock One (a soft, doughy spot), so I hope he gets whatever help he needs fighting whatever demons he has; especially since being around those demons was probably what caused his depression in the first place.
UPDATE: The Sock One’s rep (again, Pimp Mama Kris speaking through a sock puppet) has told E! Online that “Rob is not in rehab”. Phew! For a second I was scared that Domino’s had picked the wrong week to launch those popcorn chicken pizzas, but it looks like they can go ahead and resume production.
“You claim that your time in rehab has taught you to be less violent. The fact that you chose to assault my eyes with awful Night At The Roxbury-looking suit determines that was a lie.” – What I’m assuming the Judge said to Chris Brown right before he sentenced him back to rehab. And yes, I’m imagining the judge was Maury.
Just four days after trading friendship bracelets and mailing addresses with his best buds on his last day in rehab (“I’ll write you the minute I get home! Camp Rehab forever!”) Chris Brown has been told to pack up his Rescue Rangers duffle bag and hop back on the bus to anger management rehab. Despite successfully completing 95 days (I consider it a success if he doesn’t burn the place to the ground and punch the ashes) he has been ordered to return to rehab for 60 more days:
Superior Court Judge James Brandlin scheduled Brown’s next hearing for April 23. That would come after what’s expected to be a brief assault trial in Washington, D.C., earlier that month.
Prosecutors have asked that Brown be sent to jail for violating probation with his October arrest in the district. In that incident, Brown and his bodyguard are accused of punching a man and breaking his nose outside a hotel. Brown is on probation for his 2009 attack on then-girlfriend, Rihanna.
Brown’s attorneys have asked the judge to await the outcome of the Washington, D.C., case before hearing evidence on whether Brown should go to jail.
And according to a document obtained by TMZ from the facility where he was staying, his extended stint in rehab isn’t just a clever way to skip prison. As it turns out, Chris Brown is that troubled kid from down the street who keeps asking your 8-year-old self if you “wanna see a dead mouse?” and needs some major mental health help:
The facility writes, “Mr. Brown became aggressive and acted out physically due to his untreated mental health disorder, severe sleep deprivation, inappropriate self-medicating and untreated PTSD.” They never explain the cause of the PTSD. The letter also says Chris was diagnosed with Bipolar II.
Did I just feel bad for Chris Brown? Yikes. Calgon take me away and Jesus take the wheel.
Buuuuut also for pot and booze and pills and DIY leather projects. Which brings me to my next point: when did Selena Gomez turn into a dope-smoking, booze-chugging skid? Correct me if I’m wrong, but it was my understanding that Selena was BFFs with that dimple-cheeked goody two-shoes Taylor Swift, and her idea of a bad-as-I-wanna-be time is drinking full-sugar root beer floats, taking 3 Flintstone vitamins, and watching The Craft. Unless Taylor has a secret drug addiction and she’s the one who hooked Selena up with Tantrum Toddler in the first place. What am I even saying? She probably hasn’t even smoked a cigarette (and when she does, it will look like this).
But back to Selena “Lil’ Badgirl” Gomez. According to TMZ, Selena had been studying at the Demi Lovato Bad Shit Academy and preparing for her GED (the final exam takes place on a plane) but left to pursue other interests, like not being a pilled-up drunk, at a rehab centre in Arizona called The Meadows:
Sources say Selena went for a combination of problems, including alcohol, pot and prescription Ambien.
But we’re told Selena’s decision was largely based on “that crazy boy” — aka Bieber. Selena blames a lot of her problems on the excesses she was exposed to by being around Bieber and his buddies.
The 2-week program at The Meadows is called DAWN … specifically designed for people between 18 and 26. DAWN specializes in substance dependence, trauma, family dynamics, mental health and relapse prevention.
I’m just glad Selena finally woke the fuck up and realized her life was turning into the sad cliché of a post-Disney actress and high-tailed it all the way to professional help. I also hope she’s serious about staying sober. And no, I’m not talking about the booze; live every day like it’s raining the sweet nectar and get your swerve on for all I care. I’m talking about staying sober from Justin Bieber; Justin Bieber is a hell of a drug. I’ll be crossing my fingers for you in the hope you don’t relapse.
Here’s more of a cleaner Selener out for brunch with a friend wearing the kind of outfit that says ”I’m still making mistakes, just not the drug kind.”
Wow, another story about a douche-nozzle being put away? I had to check today’s date, because all these too-good-to-be-true stories had me convinced it was April 1st. When it rains it pours. Who even knows what we’ll finish the day with. Crosses fingers for Kanye and Kim to confirm a move to anywhere but here.
According to People, the streets run salty with the tears of a million Hooters girls and cocktail waitresses because the Patron Saint of Grab-Ass, Dean McDermott, has checked into rehab. If Tori Spelling is looking for ideas for her next fake family photo-shoot, I suggest glitter-gluing the following statement on a piece of poster board:
“I am truly sorry for the mistakes I have made and for the pain I’ve caused my family,” he tells PEOPLE in an exclusive statement. “I take full responsibility for my actions and have voluntarily checked myself into a treatment center to address some health and personal issues. I am grateful to be getting the help I need so I can become the husband and father my family deserves.”
…but what he meant to say was this:
“What’s crappenin? Things haven’t been going so well for the ol’ Deaner ever since he got back from Canada. You know how it is; the wife caught me fucking some chicks and maybe also some dudes (hey – a hole is a hole, amirite brahs?!?) and now Tori’s making me check into rehab, because apparently getting your dick wet is a crime. Fuckin’ wives, right? Also I kinda owe some guys in Canada money, so it’s best if Deano lays low for a while. Keep it Sleazy – D”
Either Dean is the world’s smartest gold digger (congrats on being described as smart for the first time, Dean!) or Tori is a stage 5 clinger and WILL NOT EVER LET GO, because none of this makes any sense. Rehab? Rehab for what? He’s a cheater, and to the best of my knowledge, you can’t fix cheater. But a gold diggers gotta do what a gold diggers gotta do; if Dean has to spend some time crying in group therapy over a mug of hot Sanka, it will all be worth it down the road when he clickity clack makes that Candy Spelling money.
(Pic via Splash)
Has there ever been a tattoo that says: “I make awful, regretful decisions when I drink” more than a tribal sun ankh around a belly button? Well, maybe the belly button/cat butt tattoo.
Regardless of the terrible ink on Dennis Rodman (and there is a lot; so much we could write a book and get our PhD in Bummer-ology) it’s what’s inside that counts. And what’s inside Dennis Rodman is a never-ending stream of booze. Earlier this month, Dennis gave an interview to CNN from North Korea that was – in a word – insane. Shortly after, he admitted he was drunker than your drunkest uncle during the interview and apologized profusely. Now TMZ has confirmed that Dennis is ”beyond exhausted and overwhelmed” and has checked in to treatment facility in New Jersey for 30 days. This makes the 3rd time Dennis has tried to get clean with professional help. Or is it the 4th? Does his time on Celebrity Rehab count? What about Sober House? You know it’s bad when Lindsay Lohan just side-eyed you from whatever pile of clothes she slept in last night and mumbled ‘Get it together, Rodman’.
It doesn’t say what or who made Dennis decide to check-in and get dry, but I’m going to guess it was his boo Kim Jong Un. After the drunk television interview, Dennis crossed his heart and pinky swore to Kim that he’d never drink again, but later that week Kim found dozens of empties stashed under their bed and confronted Dennis about the booze by screaming his favorite lines from The Room (he changed Lisa to Dennis). Kim Jong Un then threw all of Dennis’s clothes out the bedroom window onto the lawn while blasting Stronger at full-volume, lit a match, and realized what he’d done and called up his best girlfriends. “I know it’s not Mimosa Monday, but you guys need to come over. I kicked Dennis out; I’M SO STUPID!!! He was my soulmate!!”
(Pic via Splash)
The bars of L.A. are safe from Josh Brolin for now. UsWeekly says that 45-year-old Josh Brolin has finally realized that getting into sad, pathetic drunk slap fights with bar bouncers is entertaining as hell to us, but it’s no way to go through life. Some source tells UsWeekly that he checked into a rehab facility in Northern California somewhere to deal with “substance abuse” problems.
“He realized he needed help and is committed to his sobriety.”
Josh was put into handcuffs earlier this year after he ruined everyone’s fun by acting like a messy, angry drunk at a bar in Santa Monica. And earlier this month, TMZ posted a video of a broke off, dozed off Josh slapping at a bouncer before hugging it out. That same weekend, Josh was caught on video raging at a cab driver in a Del Taco drive-thru. I can hate on Josh Brolin for a million things (see: ruining whores’ buzzes, hitting Diane Lane and Jonah Hex), but I can’t totally hate on him for raging at a Del Taco drive-thru, because I have had the urge to bulldoze through cars to get to a Crunchtada Pizza.
Josh was also busted in 2008 for fighting in a bar in Louisiana and in 2004 he was charged with hitting Diana Lane.
At least he’s finally drying his ass out. It only took him punching Diane Lane and getting banned from every bar in Santa Monica to finally realize that maybe the sweet nectar and him aren’t mean to be best friends. And since The Difficult Brown and Josh Brolin are both off the streets, you might think we’re safe from the flying fists of asshole celebrities, but nope. We still have Sean Penn!