The New York City medical examiner’s office released a statement today saying that Philip Seymour Hoffman’s official cause of death is “acute mixed drug intoxication.” Based on what they found in his system, it sounds like he was speedballing it. I’m getting shades of my 6th grade teacher saying the word “SPEEDBALL” like it was the most evil word in the world while talking to us about the bad shit.
Toxicology reports show that at the time of his death, PSH had all kinds of the bad shit in his system including heroin, coke, benzodiazepines and amphetamine. Julie Bolcer, the medical examiner spokesperson, also said that his death was ruled as an accident.
Lord, may a kitten or a puppy video drop on my head right now. I’d even settle for a cute ferret video right about now. Okay, okay, I’ll settle for a damn meerkat video:
When a famous person dies of a heroin overdose, the police really do not fuck around and pull all of their magnifying glasses out to track down the dealers who sold him those bags of bad shit dust. Not even a week after Philip Seymour Hoffman died of a heroin overdose in his West Village apartment, the NYPD has put four alleged drug dealers in handcuffs.
The New York Post says that last night, cops raided three apartments on Mott Street in Manhattan and arrested four people, 3 dudes and 1 chick, and charged two of them with felony drug possession and the other two with misdemeanor drug possession. In the apartment, they found 350 glassine bags with heroin in them. The bags found in the “drug den” on Mott Street (Side note: Drug Den on Mott Street sounds like the title of White Oprah’s upcoming autobiography) didn’t have the “Ace of Spades” stamp on them. The dozens of baggies of heroin found in PSH’s apartment were all marked with either an “Ace of Spades” or “Ace of Hearts.” The cops don’t know if any of the four people arrested ever sold heroin to PSH, but sources told the cops that he has bought the bad shit from that drug den on Mott Street in the past. One of the dudes arrested, musician Robert Aaron Vineberg who has played with Wyclef Jean, told the Post that he did not sell drugs to PSH.
The police had originally suspected that the batch of heroin that PSH had in his apartment might’ve contained fentanyl, because 22 people in Pennsylvania died after doing heroin laced with that shit. But officials told The New York Times that preliminary tests of the heroin found in PSH’s apartment showed no traces of fentanyl.
Gothamist says that the police are trying to find the two men who were with PSH on Saturday night when he pulled $1200 out of an ATM at the D’Agostino at Greenwich and Bethune Streets. They believe that PSH bought heroin and coke from those two dudes. There’s no surveillance cameras around that ATM, so police are looking at other cameras in the area.
And for now, I leave you with this headline from my favorite international literary journal The Daily Mail:
“Gay lover.” I know that whenever I introduce a boyfriend to my friends and family I always introduce him as my “gay lover.”
UPDATE: In case you didn’t already figure that The National Enquirer made that shit up, David Katz says they made that shit up.
After the news broke that Philip Seymour Hoffman had died of a heroin overdose, I said a little prayer at my Sandy Lyle shrine and took a nap in my Boogie Nights sleeping bag, because I knew I’d need a lot of strength to get through the downpour of celebrity tweets that were about to follow. Usually after a celebrity death, everyone and their dog has something to say, and the worst, most insincere examples of online grieving come from the d-list roaches, so I needed to psych myself up before I read something like:
@LindsayLohan: OMG my best friend Philip Stephen Huffman died and I, like, have SO many tears right now #PSH #sobbing #funeralinvite?
However I guess Kris Jenner was busy making Sunday supper for Beelzebub, because the worst offenders came from an unlikely place. First up was Dean from Gilmore Girls (aka Jared Padalecki) who tweeted this touching tribute to the late, great actor:
Thanks Dean. Not the worst tweet about PSH’s death (we’ll get to that in a second) but still pretty insensitive. Jared clearly agreed, because shortly after he applied for a membership to the Delete That Tweet club and tried to fix what he broke through more tweets (never a good idea):
I didnt mean PSH is stupid or that addiction isnt a reality. I simply meant I have a different definition of "tragedy".
— Jared Padalecki (@jarpad) February 2, 2014
When I think "tragedy", I think of St Judes, of genocide, of articles I read in the paper. But, yes, either way, a death, is sad.
— Jared Padalecki (@jarpad) February 2, 2014
At least he made an effort to clear things up – even though he still sounds like an asshole. And if Jared Padalecki is the asshole, then LeVar Burton is the angry, sore, Preparation H-resistant hemorrhoid. Yes, that LeVar Burton; if you don’t want to have all your childhood PBS memories crushed to a million pieces, you better stop reading and go back to watching post-game Puppy Bowl interviews, because the following tweets (yes, there’s more than one) are about to shatter ya dayum soul:
And here’s a punch directly into the soft part of my soul. The Wall Street Journal is reporting the shitty, shitty, terrible, sad news that Philip Seymour Hoffman was found dead in his Manhattan apartment at around 11:30 this morning. The Chief Medical Examiner is currently looking into his cause of death, but confirms that a friend found him in his West Village apartment. He was 46. And now we’re all seriously fucking sad, because he was one of the best.
TMZ and The New York Post are both saying that he died of an apparent overdose. Last year, PSH, who had been sober for 23 years, spent 10 days in rehab to detox from a heroin addiction. WSJ reporter Pervaiz Shallwani says that PSH was alone in his apartment and was found by writer David Katz who had been working with him on a project. Other reports are saying that PSH was found with a needle in his arm, but nothing’s been confirmed by the NYPD.
PSH is survived by his partner Mimi O’Donnell and their three young children.
This is just thirty tons of sad on thirty tons of sad on thirty tons of sad. Cancel the Super Bowl! But don’t cancel the Puppy Bowl, because we definitely need that today. This is just the worst. PSH was the best in everything from Doubt to Capote to Happiness to The Big Lebowski to The Master to Punch-Drunk Love to Flawless to ordering peanut butter and Penthouse in Magnolia. But my favorite of all PSH performances is his performance in Boogie Nights. Nobody wore a 70s tank top like him.
Rest in peace, Philip Seymour Hoffman.
Philip Seymour Hoffman, who captured a piece of my heart when he bared his beautiful gut in an XS tank top in Boogie Nights, spent 10 days in detox recently to deal with a little drug problem. Philip has been sober for the past 23 years, but he tells TMZ that last year he started downing prescription pills and that led him to heroin. (Side note: Every time I read the word “heroin” I think of my mom saying it. Heroin is like the most shocking thing to her, so she says it like: ‘HEROIN!!!!!!!!!’ I can hear the all-caps and string of exclamation points in her voice. The lights flicker and organ music swells in the background. It’s a dramatic performance.)
PSH tells TMZ that a year ago, he started taking way too many prescription pills and recently he switched to snorting heroin. After about a week of filling his nostrils with heroin, he realized that he needed to get it together, girl. He checked into a detox facility on the East Coast and spend ten days there. PSH says he’s clean now and he’s already working on a movie in Europe.
RuPaul’s Drag Race is seriously wedged deep in the crevices of my brain, because when I read about PSH spending 10 days in Detox, I picture him spending 10 days IN Detox if you know what I mean.
Heroin is some serious shit, so it’s a good thing he handled it before he went full Keef Richards. My guess is that the final straw was when PSH snorted a fat line of heroin off of Joaquin Phoenix’s hairy ass and while he was picking the greasy ass hairs and dingle bits out of his nostrils, he thought to himself, “This ain’t the life.” At least that’s how I picture PSH’s rock bottom moment.