So Far, 2012 Is Not Sinead O'Connor's Year
This morning, I took my dog down for his first public piss of the day and I wore a hat like this and glasses like these to do so. (You can judge me all you want, but it's raining like a bitch here and I think that's the heavens' way of throwing me shade and weeping over my jacked up look so you don't have to.) When I got downstairs, a dude who works in my building stopped mopping and said to me, "You look like a Chinese Ron from A Different World!" Just like that. I'm not Chinese, but I figured that any day that starts out with A Different World reference is going to be a good day. I was wrong, because I came upstairs and read about Sinead O'Connor trying to overdose her way to the afterworld again. Is the brown that difficult, Sinead? Damn.
Between trying to get the taste of activated charcoal out of her mouth, Sinead told The Sun (You know, because when you try to get a date with the Grim Reaper, you tell The Sun first!) that she swallowed a bunch of pills last Thursday in L.A. Shortly after Sinead overdosed, she let out a Twitter plea and asked her followers if they knew of a good shrink. Why Sinead didn't ask her on-and-off-again therapist husband for a recommendation is beyond me, but she eventually got the help she needs. Sinead told The Sun:
"I took an overdose. God obviously wants me around — though I can't think why. I just had to make a cry for help."
Can somebody ask Tim Tebow that since he's hogging up the invisible soup can connection to God, can he please take a moment from praying for another homerun (or whatever the hell they do in football) to ask our lord to tell him why he's keeping Sinead here. I'm pretty sure God will say that he's keeping Sinead around, because the difficult brown movement needs a public voice and she needs to hear that.