mandag, april 02, 2007
Let's All Go To Rehab!
A national detox might be just the thing. Can someone bring coffee? Like, Amy Winehouse?
Maybe France could perform the intervention. All crepes and unfiltered cigarettes and disapproving glares and intriguing bondage equipment and really excellent coffee. Not much joy, but they'd sure be effective.
Or maybe Canada. Oh yes, Canada. Canada could slip on down via a giant squadron of red-and-white minivans loaded with hockey sticks and forgiving smiles and ice-cold beer, and they could sneak into our messy apartments and wait for us to come home from another insane night of reckless irresponsible Americanism, and then wham, soon as we walk in the door they slam it shut and lock it and surround us and sit us right down and pour the coffee and let us scream and flail and panic and just wait for the tears to flow.
How good we will feel, when it's all over. How healthy and rejuvenated and right.
We certainly wouldn't be the first. Hell, rehab is the thing to do. Rehab is the new black. All the celebrities are doing it, from Britney to Lindsay to Courtney, from Nicole Richie to Charlie Sheen to Robert Downey Jr. (veritably, the rehab poster child), all ducking in and out of rehab like it was a freakin' Haagen Daaz outlet in the Sahara, like it was Paris Hilton's crotch and they were an active STD. What, too graphic? Hey, it's rehab. No one said it would be pretty.
...read the rest HERE. It's Mark Morford, of course.
That column made sure that the song "Rehab", by Amy Winehouse got etched into my brain again. Damn - I thought I had moved on to Back to Black!