Rehab

So far (and according to the media), Demi Moore's medical file reads like that of a high school asshole whose idea of a good time is huffing from gas tanks before fingering his girlfriend in the bathroom of a Hardee's during his break. Because Demi apparently gets hungry for the sweet nectar, whip-its, Adderall AND Red Bull. TMZ is hearing that long before Demi whipped her way to a seizure, she ate Red Bull for breakfast, Red Bull for lunch and Red Bull for dinner. For 10 years, Demi has been obsessively riding the Red Bull daily, but some source says that in the past few weeks she's been replacing food with Red Bull. I think I speak for AssStain Kutcher and all of the Willis daughters when I say, MOM, you're embarrassing me!

Someone from Red Bull tells TMZ that Demi is so hard up for that nasty shit that they regularly deliver shipments to her home. A different source says that when Demi was partying it up with Tater Head recently, she kept booze out of her mouth, but kept her tongue in a Red Bull all night long.

Red Bull, really, Demi? RED? BULL? The period blood of an actual bull probably tastes better than Red Bull. You know when you're making out with some nasty drunk and he burps out a vomit-infused burp cloud into your mouth? That's what Red Bull tastes like. I wouldn't be giving Demi shit if TMZ says she was addicted to underground Four Loko, or if she was caught buying homemade PURPLE DRANK from Brit Brit's Cheetolings in the back room of their playhouse. But I just can't with her Red Bull addiction. What's next? We're going to see Demi on an episode of True Life: I'm Addicted to XBox360? I bet Demi's bedroom windows are covered in tinfoil and she uses Transformers bed sheets as curtains.

I'm sad that nobody told Demi that the adult way of handling a divorce from a total douchebag is to fuck the pain away. When you're down and out, let the teaches of Peaches guide you.

Before we get into this, can I just say that relatives don't let relatives do the ayúdame lunge at a fucking Disney star. That little boy needs to adjust his side-eye a little to the right to focus on that woman with the Coach purse who is trying to reach out to Demi Lovato like she's a demigod who can heal all ailments or some shit. Okay, now that we've gotten that PSA out of the way...

Blind Gossip, the site that wrote the blind item about how some girl star is back to her snorting ways, has confirmed that their own blind item is about Demi Lovato. They heard from a friend of Demi's that she is going for another round of rehab and has checked into Passages in Malibu to get help for her addictions to booze and coke. Blind Gossip says that Demi's friends passed their blind item to her management team and it was the push in the asshole everyone needed to get her into treatment again. The moral of the story is: BLIND ITEMS SAVE LIVES! Blind items are the Candy Finnigan of the gossip world. But wait...

Demi's rep, one of the people who supposedly helped to get her into rehab, tells Gossip Cop that Blind Gossip's story is "a crock of shit."

Now, there's evidence FOR and AGAINST the rumor that Demi is clearing her blood veins of the bad shit next to the other Demi in rehab.

FOR: Demi recently put her Twitter page on pause and a thirsty ho like her would only do that if she was forced to hand over her communication device while checking into rehab.

AGAINST: Demi recently jumped off of Wilmer Valderrama's dick for a final time, which means that the inside of her head has finally reached a moment of clarity and she finally realized that Fez is a hit it, quit it, cleanse your coochie of it kind of douche.

But the evidence that is truly making me believe that this "DemiLo in rehab" rumor is false is the professional statement from DemiLo's rep. Only a professional, honorable and ethical individual would use the words "crock of shit" when discussing their client's personal life to the media. Or maybe Gossip Cop just happened to call Demi's rep as he discovered that his dog did god's work by taking a shit on his favorite pair of CROCs. That's probably what happened.

When even the powerful healing touch of Detective La Toya can't rebuke the demons out of you, it's time to pack up your exquisite pearl choker and matching cuff, and get your serial killer-faced boyfriend to drive you to rehab. This is exactly what Kim Richards of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills has done. Anybody who watches that mess isn't surprised since Kim has barely been in any scenes lately. And when she is in a scene, she's scrambled in the brains and is about as coherent as a drunk Jerri Blank reading spam e-mails. Entertainment Tonight confirms that 47-year-old Kim is drying out at a clinic somewhere.

Kim went to rehab after the first season aired and it's not known what she's being treated for this time, but she told Adrienne's husband on a past episode that there's a Lexapro, Trazadone and Topamax party in her body.

Well, if rehab doesn't work this time at least she gets a break from packing and unpacking boxes. Seriously, Kim is always packing and unpacking. When Kim isn't weeping out memories while packing a keepsake from her childhood, she's calling the other housewives to tell them that she can't come to their stupid event because she's too busy packing! Bitch should go work for Moishes Movers. I bet Kim isn't in rehab for a pill popping addiction. She's in there for her addiction to PACKING!!!

Eric Dane's spokeswhore confirms to Star (via Radar) that he's oil wrestling with his internal demons in a rehab clinic somewhere in Los Angeles. Eric isn't in there to curb his craving for smoking crack in a tub full of Noxzema water. Eric is almost done with a 30-day program that will hopefully stop him from getting the hungries for dolls. His rep said this:

“Actor Eric Dane voluntarily checked himself into a treatment facility to help him get off of pain medication that he was prescribed for a sports injury that he suffered over the recent hiatus. He reports back to work next week. Business as usual."

Eric's wife and his co-star in the worst excuse for a sex tape ever, Rebecca Gayheart, has got a womb full of their second baby, so a source says that he's cleaning himself up and trying to get his shit together.

You know, Eric and Rebecca have already reminded me of the prettier and slightly more stable version of Charlie Sheen and Brooke Mueller. Like there's a thin layer of zipped up sleaze around them. If they invited you over, they'd probably sit really close to you on their velvet sofa and Eric would deep groan as he rubbed your thigh while Rebecca tried to get you to sip from a plastic cup that smells like boxed wine and Zicam.

But good for Eric for trying to clean his mess up. Eric does not want to be that father who takes his newborn baby to the emergency room and tries to get the doctors to prescribe it Xanax milk because he believes that its non-stop crying is due to an anxiety disorder. (Yes, everything I learned about stealing meds from a child I learned from Nurse Jackie.)

Here's Eric Dane looking like McMethy while using a stranger to play a dumb joke on the paparazzi in L.A. late last month.

Nancy Pelosi wants Weiner to pull out of congress, his wife is pregnant with their first child, he was under investigation for possibly making Chris Hansen's brow lift by having an online relationship with a 17 year old girl and so naturally he's trying to solve all of his problems by checking into a Tweetment treatment center! Because when all else fails, hide your face (and wang) in rehab!

A rep for Anthony Weiner's office didn't say if he was officially going to resign (the rumor is he's going to do so next week when his wife comes back from the Middle East), but she did issue a statement of words which basically translates into "We hit the DAMAGE CONTROL button and it opened a trap door to rehab."

"Congressman Weiner departed this morning to seek professional treatment to focus on becoming a better husband and healthier person. In light of that, he will request a short leave of absence from the House of Representatives so that he can get evaluated and map out a course of treatment to make himself well."

Congressman Weiner takes the views of his colleagues very seriously and has determined that he needs this time to get healthy and make the best decision possible for himself, his family and his constituents."

Oh, I see he's going to that same rehab for dumb fucks Tiger Woods graduated from. First of all, a grown ass man talking to a teenager whose parents he doesn't know is never a good thing. It might end with your wrists in plastic handcuffs and Chris Hansen throwing you looks of judgement with those sultry eyes of his. Stay away from teenagers completely (that is a rule for everybody).

Second of all, I have the judgement of a cat in heat and the brain of a discarded garden toilet, and even I know how to take naked pictures if I don't want to get caught. Never show even a tip of your chin and always pose in front of a green screen so you can Photoshop in your background of choice. Always use an off-shore e-mail address (that made no sense) and keep all copies of the pictures safely stored in a cock ring flash drive. It's not hard.

Does the 9th district really want a congressman who doesn't know how to do cyber ho shit the right way?

The alcohol supply in England is surprisingly starting to dwindle again and the country is very close to begging Ireland for a bailout. Before they resort to such extreme measures, they are sending their biggest consumer of booze off to the tank so that they can replenish their sweet nectar resources. Smirnoff's favorite blow job partner, Amy Wino, has once again been shipped off to rehab for the (insert the number of times in the past 10 minutes you've sniffed Wite-Out to get you through this Friday morning)th in her lifetime. But before the coke line on my mirrored heart checked into rehab, she left England with one last parting shot!

The Sun says that minutes before Wino surrendered herself into The Priory, she stumbled into a nearby hair salon and gave them something to remember her by. One customer said that Wino ran into the salon's bathroom and loudly hacked into the toilet. The sound was not unlike that of a zombie getting murdered via chainsaw fellatio. (A customer was smart enough to record Wino barfing into a toilet and they have since sold it to the sound editors of AMC's The Walking Dead).

The customer said that the staff was too scared to say anything. Wino apologized for ruining their bathroom with her puke. Minutes after Wino left, men in yellow astronaut suits swept in, tented the place and shuffled the customers off to a year-long quarantine. The toilet was later sold on the underground black market to North Korea who will use it as a weapon of mass destruction.

Naturally when one pukes, one wants to rinse out the layer of vom from their mouth with heaven's tears: VODKA! Wino walked into Meadway Food & Wine, and bought a bottle of Smirnoff vodka. Wino blessed her insides by taking a quick swig before leaving the store to check into rehab.

If I got a vodka shot for every time I typed "Oh, Wino, Wino, Wino..." I'd probably be puking my liquefied liver out into a beauty salon toilet. But I'll type it one more time: Oh, Wino, Wino, Wino! What we really need from her is a new album. That's what we really need. At this point, I'd even settle for an album of her barfing into toilets, gargling with vodka and ripping out a rehab technician's jugular vein with her bare teeth for filling her IV drip with nutrients instead of gin. Wino can call it Barf This Way. Her first singles will be "Edge of Gory" and "Pukis." I'd totally buy it on Amazon for 99 cents!

And as you're talking mess, Matthew Perry will be side-eyeing you from his rehab suite.

Matthew is making it so that the patients and technicians at the rehab clinic he's about to check into can't sell a story off to the tabloids for a check made out to cash. Matthew is beating them to the virgin punch. (Yes, I know the "punch" in "beat you to the punch" isn't that kind of punch, but doesn't it sound more delicious if you think of it that way?)

Matthew is letting the media know that he's going away for a while to work on his sobriety for the third time. Matthew doesn't say if he belly flopped off the wagon or if the wagon knocked him off, he's just saying that he's checking out for a minute so don't look for him.

"I'm making plans to go away for a month to focus on my sobriety and to continue my life in recovery. Please enjoy making fun of me on the World Wide Web.”

It's no fun to mock a ho when they invite you to do so. Way to deflate a cunt, Matthew.

via E! Online

If TMZ is telling the truth, then the clip above shows Whitney Houston making her last appearance at a Prince concert. Whit has been a regular fixture at Prince's show and even got on stage at The Forum in L.A. the other night to holler out a sound that I can only describe as sounding like a constipated walrus with laryngitis trying to push a baby out through his penis hole. Prince's audience will no longer get to the hear that sound, because his team has put Whitney Houston's name on their banned list due to her constant acts of drunken mayhem. Whitney is as messy as that raggedy creature on her head.

A source says that even though they never saw Whitney sip on an alcoholic beverage, she's been giving off signs that she's drunk as shit. When Whitney isn't being a fool in the audience, she's begging Prince's people to let her up on stage to perform with him. They give in every now and again, but whenever they do they find themselves faced with a group of people asking for their money back. This has forced Prince to deny Whitney from here on out.

In other Whit Whit news, Radar says that everything old is new again! Specifically, CRACK! They're hearing that Bobby Brown is telling his friends that crack ain't whack to Whitney again. Apparently, Whitney is back in rehab, because she's been hitting the crack pipe like old times. One of Bobby B's friends said, "It's the worst it's ever been. Whitney went on tour again, and that's when the relapse occurred. Whitney's shutting a lot of people out of her life. It is a dire situation."

Do we need to send Diane Sawyer to pay a visit to Whitney's rehab room to try to set her straight again? Get it together, Whit! In ten years, I do not want to be poking at a cold egg breakfast while Whit leans against a cigarette machine and hacks out her greatest hits in between serving burnt hash browns to truckers in a casino diner outside of Laughlin, NV.

On Friday, I posted a few pictures of Whitney Houston looking like she just woke up on the scratchy carpet of a rehab center after spending most of the night licking on her bedspread's dried alcohol stain that was a battle wound from a struggle between a patient and a technician trying to yank the contraband bottle of whiskey out of their hands. There's a good reason for that! Whitney is currently enrolled in an outpatient treatment program. Unfortunately, footage of Cousin Dionne Warwick dragging Whitney by the ankle into rehab doesn't exist, because she voluntarily checked herself in.

Whitney's rep didn't give up that many details in the statement they released to People: "Whitney Houston is currently in an out-patient rehab program for drug and alcohol treatment. Whitney voluntarily entered the program to support her long-standing recovery process."

Hmm. The last time I checked with Candy Finnigan, a "long-standing recover process" didn't involve swallowing your hotel minibar and starting a collection of liquor store receipts. But good for Whitney. Hopefully, when she she's finished with rehab, her thirst for crack (or whatever) will be curbed, but her hunger for bitchery and fuckery won't!

Richie Sambora was riding on the back of the wagon when he sort got a little too much hooch in his system, lost his balance and fell the hell off. Richie got up, brushed the dust off of his rubber v-neck t-shirt and stumbled over to the nearest rehab center to check in. Radar reports that the peen who cut Heather Locklear and Denise Richards' friendship in half is on his way to be treated for the serious drunks and exhaustion. You know, because being in a state of DRUNK during every minute of the day is tiring!

A source explained Richie's latest rehab trip like this: ”Richie recently has been drinking too much, and wants to get his life together. Richie has had a busy year. I think this was a culmination of all the things that overloaded his life and finally he realized he needed to take care of himself.”

So far Bon Jovi's tour dates for this month and next have yet to be rescheduled or axed completely.

In rehab, they tell you to be honest and let your mind's thoughts spill all over the place like a blanket of truth, right? So WHY COME (yes, WHY COME) not one bitch in rehab has been straight up with Richie and let him know that the feathery nest of Mrs. Brady's old hairstyles on his head need to climb up the 12 steps to the roadkill cemetery?! Or just sign me in on family day and I'll tell him!