Courtney Love gave an interview to The Fix about drug addiction and sobriety, and it's pretty what you would expect from a Courtney Love interview about drug addiction and sobriety. Courtney Love is an enigma marinated in dirty crack pipe water, wrapped in peyote skin, cooked on a plate of hot Adderall pills and served on the tongue of a mental hospital patient in a strait jacket. This is why Courtney gives a good interview! Bitch's brain is like a Whac-A-Mole of thoughts.
Before Courtney talked about being sober, she nursed a beer and then pointed to a bag of meds next to her bed (prescribed by a VERY reputable doctor, thankyouverymuch). And then Court got into it. Here's a few choice quotes:
On how she recommends this crazy tea she's never drank before: "You couldn’t pay me a billion dollars to take marijuana. I don’t really like coke anymore. I’m scared of ecstasy. The one drug I'd like to try one day is Ayahuasca, which should be mandatory for everybody. It’s apparently this crazy tea that gives you these intense hallucinations. Everyone who takes it sees a wise old black man who takes you on a wild journey. I’m not going to name names, but everyone who takes it sees the same black guy. I'm not kidding you. Everyone! "
On how the wise old black man you see is not Morgan Freeman: "Shut up! No! My drug counselor did Ayahuasca with Sting one time and Sting spent an hour chasing a bee through Joshua Tree. I didn’t join in because losing control is not my jam. The few times I’ve been really drunk, I was plastered on tequila, which is no fun at all. One of those times was at the M.T.V. Awards, when I nearly fell on the floor because I took so many benzos. "
On how she's the Virgin Mary of drugs and almost every celebrity is an addict: "You know what's funny? People in the flyover states tend to think that all the celebrities on both coasts are constantly high. They think that we're all on some uber-drug. But the thing is, they're kind of right. But somehow most of them manage to function, more or less. The biggest celebrities and movers and shakers I know are also some of the worst alcoholics and drug addicts. But you'd never know it by looking at them. Now that I’m trying to stay sober, I try my best to stay away from that crowd, but it’s not always easy. These days, I’m very virginal when it comes to drugs."
On how not doing the bad shit has turned her into a nympho slut who thinks sex is overrated: "Yeah. After I stopped doing drugs I started to fuck like a bunny.... I had this Norma Desmond moment, I guess. I started sleeping with this dude who wasn’t so great, and then I hooked up with another dude who was in an open marriage, but he wasn’t so great, either. I'm a very sexual person, but in general, I think sex is kind of overrated. Most of the guys I sleep with have tended to be actors and musicians and directors. And they tend to be lousy lays. "
On how she wants to be a trophy piece: "Actually, these days I’m only interested in plutocrats. Like really, really rich guys. I’m determined to land one sooner or later. My favorite book these days is something called The Official Filthy Rich Handbook, which I study like the Talmud. The thing is, I think I can be a real asset to a wealthy man. I’ve always been a great girlfriend, but until recently I’ve struggled to stay single, because I had never been without a boyfriend before. It’s just my nature to couple up. I’m not saying that I’m completely monogamous—I’m too much of a libertine for that. But I’ve always craved real relationships."
On if her rock bottom was when she let a stranger suck on her tit for the cameras: "No, my bottom was snorting blow up Pamela Anderson’s ass! [laughs] Actually my real bottom was buying my pharmacists on both coasts wide-screen plasma TVs for Christmas!
The Pam Anderson roast on VH1 wasn’t a great moment for me, either. I was a mess. I had lipstick smeared all over my face. I was doped and dazed. I may have even been drooling. But it’s all Andy Dick’s fault, really. He handed me a pill right before the show and said, 'Courtney, take this, it’s like Vicodin without the aspirin.' It fucked me up bad. Winona Ryder slipped me a similar pill a few months earlier. I’m such an addict that I just swallowed them both, without asking what they were. So thanks to Andy Dick I ended up accidentally getting addicted to benzos, which went on to plague my life."
On rehab scholarships: "I spent 90 days at this ritzy rehab called Beau Monde. They accepted me on a scholarship basis, because I seriously had no money at the time."
On how ScarJo should play her in a movie: "A few months ago, at a party in Hollywood, Scarlett Johansson did a pretty spot-on imitation of me. She wrapped a bandage around her boobs and tumbled down a flight of stairs with a bottle of Jack Daniels in her hands. But the truth is I’ve never had a drop of Jack Daniels. I hate the taste of hard alcohol. What I really like is wine."
On Dr. Drew: "I mean, I wouldn’t want to end up at Dr. Drew’s place. He’s such a phony, that guy."
Drinking beer.... Popping pills.... Talking about how she's craving hallucinogenic tea... Yup, this crazy bitch is completely 100% sober, DOCTOR!
By the way, do you think they sell that crazy tea at Starbucks, because I really need to spend some quality time with an old wise black man (played by George Clinton, preferably).
The rats of London are aimlessly wandering the streets today, wondering whose ears they will nibble cheese out of in the middle of the morning now that their all-you-can-eat buffet Pete Doherty has been sent to the chokey for six long months! Never mind the rats, whose whiskey veins are alcoholic mosquitoes going to suckle on when they need an always reliable buzz?! And what about the bed bugs who holiday in the pools of grease on Dreamboat's scalp? The future of London's entire ecosystem is at stake here!
But a judge didn't care about that this morning when the gavel was brought down and Dreamy was sentenced to six months. I suppose Dreamy had it coming since he pleaded guilty to cocaine possession last month. The bobbies (just let me call them bobbies, okay) charged Dreamy with holding the bad shit after Robin Whitehead, a filmmaker working with him, died of an overdose in her apartment. Dreamy apparently gave her the shit that pushed her way over the edge. In court this morning, Dreamy said he was sad about her death.
This is the third time Dreamy has been jailed for drug shit.
Well, the least thing prison officials can do is to provide Dreamy with tubes of creamed coffee grounds and alley cat bile to keep his teeth as yellow as the butter lube Paula Deen slathers all over her cream pies. Dreamy without yallaw teefs is like the sun without shine.
via BBC News
Before sentencing Lindsay Lohan to 14 days in her own living room today, Judge Stephanie Sautner said that she doesn't think the little ginger cokehead is a cokehead at all. Judge Stephanie thinks that deep under her fried freckled skin, she's got issues that she's trying to control by self medicating (story of all our lives). Basically, it was Judge Stephanie's professional way of saying that her parents are a pair of toxic balls of shit. But LiLo's probation officer disagrees with Judge Stephanie's diagnosis and wrote in his report that she is definitely a drug addict and substance abuse is the root of all her problems. The probation officer then wrote a list of all the meds that are making their way down LiLo's throats. The list proves that LiLo could become a champion on the competitive pill popping circuit. The list from 411mania:
Nexium for heartburn!
Yaz for birth control!
Zoloft for depression!
Trazadone for depression!
Zyrtec for allergies!
Doxycycline for a bacterial infection!
Zythromax for a bacterial infection!
The probation officer also wrote that she failed a booze test a month after she was released from Betty Ford. The police also interviewed the staff at several restaurants LiLo visited during her stay at Betty Ford and they all said she enjoyed a glass of the sweet nectar or two.
This only proves that Lindsay Lohan is a completely responsible adult woman! These are harmless pills! If LiLo didn't take Yaz, she'd probably have one of those "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" moments and birth out a baby in the urinal of some bar's men's room. Does humanity really need another Lohan? We all answer NO to that. See, LiLo is thinking of us! As for the antibiotics, you can't cure chlamydia with a mixture of Cool Mint Listerine and Everclear. Trust me, I've tried.
Brooke Mueller's week of crackwhore shenanigans came to a close yesterday when she did the inevitable by checking herself into rehab for the (count as high as you can and enter it here)th time. Unless Brooke spewed out a dozen catchphrases on Ustream and booked a multi-city tour, rehab was pretty much the only option for a crackie like her. As part of her child custody agreement with Charlie Sheen, Brooke was supposed to squat over a plastic cup on Friday for a drug test, but she never showed up since the contents of her bladder could make a drug sniffing dog's nose fall the hell off. Brooke opted for rehab instead!
TMZ says that Brooke is obviously trying to cover her own ass, because her child custody settlement is now in jeopardy. Radar says that the ramshackle warlock prophet has already made moves to get custody of his twins. A source says that Charlie Sheen's lawyer will file documents asking a judge to turn custody of the boys over to him. Brooke's lawyer is ready to argue that her mother is taking good care of the boys and Charlie has only seen them a handful of times over the past few months. The source went on to say, "Charlie has had enough with her excuses, period. Brooke refused to take a random drug test. Charlie's attorney will use that as evidence that the boys are better off with him than with Brooke."
Saying Charlie and Brooke's twins are totally fucked is an understatement greater than a Catholic priest saying he's okay with children. If Brooke keeps custody of the boys, it's only a matter of time before they end up on the storage room shelf of a pawn shop in Inglewood. If Charlie gets custody, it's only a matter of time before they end up wiping tears from the face of a naked whore after their daddy locks all of 'em in a hotel bathroom. I'll tell them what my therapist told me when I was 13: "You're screwed up beyond the point of no return so run with it!"
If Brooke needs a good reason for why she's back on crack, she should just show the above picture to the court. Your brain's natural reaction to being touched by Wonky is to instruct your mouth to put itself over a crack pipe as soon as possible. Scientists have proven this.
It looks like Brooke Mueller has fallen off the wagon and landed mouth first right on a crack pipe. That's what Radar is saying anyway. Since yesterday morning, Brooke has reportedly been been siphoning piss out of puppies for her drug test and was seen trying to sell a watch at a pawn shop in Inglewood (FYI: Brook's mom said she was selling the watch for a "friend"). Now a drug dealer in Inglewood tells Radar that Brooke bought an 8-ball of crack for $150. If Brooke is trying to make Charlie look like a better parent in comparison, it's not working, but really...crack?!
The bad shit merchant who goes by the name T-Mac (they're always named T-Mac) says that she came out of the pawn shop and was itching for a hit right away, "Man, I ain't never seen some shit like that, a cute ass white bitch looking for some candy on these streets. I was posted up across the street from the pawn shop and, when she got into her Benz, she asked me if I knew where she could get a bump. At first, I thought she was po-po, you feel me, but she told me she just wanted to get high. So I went for it. We got in her ride, bent a corner, and I hooked her ass up with 8-ball for a buck fifty and told her if she liked it, to come see me again."
No word if Brooke got a receipt or not.
TMZ says that Brooke better hurry up with siphoning that puppy piss out, because she's got a drug test scheduled for 6PST tonight. If she gets an F on that shit or doesn't show up, they could take her twins away.
So those twins turn to the right and see the par-baked warlock staring back at them with crazy eyes and then they turn to the left and see Brooke Mueller making out with a crack rock. If they haven't said their first words yet, then I'll bet my everything that those first words will be: FUCK MY LIFE. Does Denise Richards want to pick those boys up or is she going to wait until they crawl up to her front door, because I'm pretty sure they're headed that way.
Yesterday, Brooke Mueller hustled hard for clean piss when she found out that she had to undergo an unscheduled drug test in connection with her child custody agreement with Charlie Sheen. No word yet if Brooke's scheme of disguising herself as a potty training technician to steal clean piss from a toddler worked, but TMZ is reporting that she had another Intervention moment yesterday. Brooke Mueller might be Broke DrugMueller, because TMZ has footage of her trying to get some quick cash for a fancy watch and a stereo at a pawn shop in Inglewood, CA. Because Brooke didn't bring any kind of I..D., she walked out of there empty handed.
Brooke gets $55,000 a month in child support from the Warlock Jester of Duhville and on top of that received millions of dollars in her divorce settlement, so she shouldn't be that hard up for money. When you're hawking shit for a quick dollar at a pawn shop in Inglewood, it usually means that you need to bail a bitch out of the clink or your dealer refuses to take a handjob and lap dance as payment.
And the video! Damn. Brooke is nervously pacing like me at the porn store when the cashier is ringing up my purchases and I know I've only got $100 on my debit card. You know that feeling. The total is rising to your reaching point and you're saying a silent prayer that one of the crazies from Extreme Couponing would magically show up with a double coupon for butt plugs. Brooke was acting like a serious strung out version of that.
But I'm sure there's a good explanation for this. Brooke volunteered at a child's orphanage earlier that morning and accidentally left her wallet there. By the time she realized this, it was already nap time at the orphanage and she didn't want to wake the sleeping angels, but she really needed the money to adopt a group of puppies from the pound that were about to be snuffed out. That explains the pawn shop visit and the nervous shake (PUPPIES LIVES WERE AT STAKE!)
Or maybe the toddler she was trying to steal clean piss from realized what she was up to and demanded a diaper bag full of cash. I swear, IN THIS ECONOMY, even toddlers are refusing to lower the price of their clean piss.
Here's the always sexy Pete "Dreamboat" Doherty suffocating the grease-eating pore dwellers on his scalp by wearing an upside down barristers' wig outside of court in London yesterday. Oh, that Dreamy's always making a joke out of the British justice system one way or another! The scab crust on my heart was at his home away from the crackhouse yesterday to face charges for cocaine possession in connection with a socialite's death. Dreamy might've given her the 8 ball that took her over the edge. Dreamy bit the guilty bullet and will go back to court on May 20th for sentencing.
The judge let Dreamy know that because his criminal record is messy messy messy, he's probably going to go to jail for a third time. The accommodations in the chokey are nicer and more luxurious than the ones in Dreamy's own house (aka a tent made from old coats under a bridge), but he's not going there. In this day and age, no judge is going to put that precious face behind bars. Thanks to the royal wedding, all eyes are on England. They want to parade their prized beauties in front of the world, so he's not going anywhere.
And never mind that the wig on Dreamy's head looks better than Brit Brit's weave, he really isn't right for taking that shit. That's a health violation on every level. I'm sure the barrister put that wig back on her head before going back inside. Mutant lice are now running rampant all over the court house and they'll have to shut that shit down for fumigation for MONTHS! Wait. Maybe that was all part of Dreamy's plan after all. Naw. He just wanted to give everyone a quick tingle by accentuating his succulent jowls with that blonde wig.
Charlie Sheen's "Torpedo of Truth" launched in Detroit last night and quickly turned around and bombed right in his dilapidated crackhouse hot place of a face. People who paid anywhere from $80 to $600+ for a ticket must be rubbing Cortizone on their wallets this morning, because they were violently dry fucked by a fraudulent warlock who put on a shit show that was so disastrous he made everyone wish they were watching an episode of Two and a Half Men instead. It sounds like the only way it could've been worse is if Julie Taymor pushed a flying Spider-Man from the rafters.
Entertainment Weekly was there and according to them, there was already shit in the toilet before the show even started. The comic that opened the show BITCH BOO BOMBED so hard that Charlie had to come out and tell his followers to give the dude a chance. They didn't and the tap-dancing clown from the Apollo was ready to catch a flight from NYC to pull that bitch off the stage, but the comic went on his own. What followed after that was a rambling mess full of random movie clips, kissing goddesses, Charlie repeating his catchphrases over and over again. Here's a piece from EW's timeline:
9:20 — People start booing Sheen. Not playing around, but actually booing him. Sheen yells, “I already got your money, dude!”
9:23 — We are watching video of Charlie Sheen playing Call of Duty.
9:35 — The show has become a padded and disjointed mess. Sheen plays an old short film he made called RPG starring a young Johnny Depp but the audience gets frustrated and starts booing. Sheen stops the video and says, “Okay, so RPG was a bomb. Tonight is an experiment.” One is reminded of Torpedo of Truth’s subtitle on the marquee outside: “Defeat is not an option.”
9:40 — Sheen says he’s going to “Tell some stories about crack. I figured Detroit was a good place to tell some crack stories.” This comment, not surprisingly, does not go over well. “Show of hands who here has tried crack?” Very few people raise their hand. “I don’t do crack anymore, but this is a good f—ing night to do some crack.” The audience boos.
9:43 — Sheen tells the audience, “You paid your hard-earned money without knowing what this show was about.” He asks if people have any questions. A girl from the audience asks for his best pornstar story. Sheen doesn’t want to tell that one. He’s starts telling a story about getting his car stolen — he says the story involves crack — but nobody wants to hear it. Another woman asks for a hug. He gives it to her and that’s nice — pretty much the whole audience could use one at this point.
9:50 — The show appears to be almost over. More padding, rap tributes to Sheen from YouTube. He plays a video that intercuts his 20/20 interview with new footage of him being obnoxious to Andrea Canning. It’s amusing at first, but drags on too long.
10:03 — The show is now an unmitigated disaster. There’s a fairly steady stream of people leaving early. Attendee Chris Acchione, a self-described Sheen fan who traveled all the way from Toronto for the show, says his entire mezzanine row walked out. “He’s making a fool of himself,” he says. “Is there a bigger loser in the world? He’ll be [begging] Chuck Lorre for his job back by the end of the week.”
What's the opposite of winning again?
The best part? The grand finale in this empty crack pipe disaster was SIMON FUCKING REX rapping over a "song" Charlie recorded with Snoop Dogg. When your finale is Simon Rex rapping and not remaking a scene from his Sebastian days, you know you've got a bomb that even Jeremy Renner would run from.
There's clips on MSNBC and ONTD if that's what you need to see this morning. The moral of the story is, before buying tickets for any show ask yourself first: "Can I see this for free on public transportation at 4 in the morning?" If the answer is "yes," then put your credit card back between your cleavage and go ride public transportation at 4 in the morning instead.
And somebody should check on Chuck Lorre, because he's probably choking on the non-stop laughs out of his mouth.
Have you ever watched the "adrenaline shot to the heart" scene from Pulp Fiction and thought to yourself that it would make so much more sense if it starred Kelly Osbourne in the Uma Thurman role and Courtney Love in the John Travolta role? No? Yeah, me neither, but Courtney Love says it really happened like that. The truth is, Courtney's hallucinations probably crossed paths in the dusty bowling alley dance floor in her brain and shit got mixed up, but listen to what she has to say anyway.
During a Q&A with fans on VYou, Courtney was asked how long she's been sober. Courtney answered since October '05 and then her crazy train crashed at full speed into Kelly Osbourne's station. Apparently, Kelly and Joan Rivers called Court a "crackhead" during E!'s Fashion Police the other night and bitch didn't appreciate it. Court went into some mumbling rant about how she saved Kelly from dying of an overdose twice! Courtney is a regular Dr. Quinn of the crackhouse!
According to Court, Kelly took a little too much blow and Oxycontin one night, and ended up foaming at the mouth. Court, being the Captain Saveacokeho that she is, did CPR on Kelly and "put things in her boobs."
Can you imagine that scene? Like a MadTV skit. Courtney blowing even more coke dust into Kelly's mouth in between suctioning her nipples with a turkey baster and sticking random syringes into her tits. If Courtney put her mouth on yours and blew, your lungs would turn into dust and the Grim Reaper would show up to cover you in a Hazmat tarp before dragging you into a hot Silkwood shower. So I'm not sure I believe that she's the Vincent Vega to Kelly's Mia Wallace.
Courtney then said that she's sick of being the punchline and Kelly knows how sober she is. Courtney is so sober that she's only had one bump recently, only been drunk a few times this year, drinks rosé and sometimes takes Sonata and Abilify. But that's it!
There are two things I learned while watching this: a) I need to check my free clinic plan to see if they list Courtney Love as one of their back alley pharmacists of choice, because she really knows a lot about meds. b) If I ever overdose on coke and OxyContin, make sure Courtney is not around, because I really don't want our tongues touching ever.
You've been waiting for it (not really) and it's finally here: Lindsay Lohan's excuse for why she hit the sidewalk in front of NYC's Motor City Bar at 2:30 in the morning. LiLo, whose everyday is April Fool's, didn't say that she has found Allah and was simply praying right there on the sidewalk. LiLo also didn't say that Michael Lohan must've rubbed his voodoo tits together sending an evil spirit to push her on the street. And she didn't says somebody slipped a weight into her coat. Nope. LiLo announced through Twitter, Facebook and TMZ that Jack Daniels didn't push her off the wagon, because she didn't drink. LiLo is simply a klutz.
A tornado of whiskey-scented delusion rose above LiLo when she quivered the fat colon tubes on her mouth about how the media continues to twist things around to make her look like a messy messy drunk. LiLo started her "I don't even know what liquor smells like" tour by typing this out on Twitter: "funny how making a joke can turn into.... well, me falling and a story.. #twisted." Then she went over to TMZ and said this: "I was NOT drinking, nor do I drink! I was with my brother, sister and friends. I was making a joke. They're trying to make something out of nothing. Just because I'm out doesn't mean I'm drinking."
Yes, I'm jealous that 17-year-old Ali Lohan is partying in a NYC bar at 2 in the morning on a homeschool night. And yes, I believe LiLo (no, I don't). If your lips were stuffed with 50lbs of delusion gel, you'd lose your balance and bust a BAM on the sidewalk too.
Here's a few pictures of Lindsay Soberhan at a screening for Source Code in NYC last night. I see that Butch Crackidy is back to her hold thieving tricks! I'm talking about that fur she's wearing. A fur that rightfully belongs to Kingston Rossdale! Taking fur from a baby? A new low...han.