Amy Winehouse’s little “adverse reaction to medication” back in July has been exposed as — wait for it — another drug overdose. You didn’t see that one comin’, did you? Only this one might have been the final straw for Amy’s over-taxed cerebrum. A close pal of Amy’s told The Sun
“She had smoked an inhuman amount of hash which resulted in acute cannabis poisoning [vomiting uncontrollably and hallucinating]. You have to take a [shitload] of pot to suffer that severe a reaction. It’s thought she had been smoking it for 36 hours. Amy’s fits were as bad as the convulsions she had during her overdose in August last year. No one has mentioned her meth use before – but that stuff is truly nasty.”
Medics are worried Amy’s brain was damaged by the cannabis overdose – she displayed symptoms normally associated with schizophrenia.
First of all, hash doesn’t cause epileptic fits and seizures. Epilepsy does. Secondly, you couldn’t smoke enough hash to “poison” yourself in one night. Meth, yes; hashish, no. Hell, you couldn’t eat enough hashish to poison yourself in one night. In fact, I had a brick of hashish for breakfast, and I’ve never been better. I start every day with a little of the Black Gold. Sometimes I sprinkle a little over my granola; I might fold it into an omelet with capers and a side of lox, or just dig in with a spoon and eat it straight, but one thing’s for damn sure — I have no idea where I was going with this. Remembering is hard!
In news that’s sure to shock and dismay you, new footage of singer Amy Winehouse snorting illegal drugs surfaced over the weekend. I’ll give you a moment to collect yourself. Breathing into a paper bag sometimes helps. The News of the World states
The troubled Back to Black star was secretly filmed hoovering up the Class A drug in a packed London pub… in Camden last month while standing in front of a Union Jack flag. Desperate for a fix, the singer is seen snorting the cocaine off a CD case in full view of partygoers.
In other equally shocking news, the Earth is round and Zac Efron is gayer than rainbow Christmas. Further bulletins as events warrant!
Amy Winehouse and husband Blake Fielder-Civil are finally going to be together again. Granted, he’ll still be in prison and she’ll be in rehab, but they’ll still be in the same town, so close enough. Reunited and it feels so good! The Sun says
The Back to Black singer has booked into a clinic in a country town only a short drive from the jail where Blake Fielder-Civil is being held.
Amy will have treatment at the “small and friendly” Focus 12 Clinic in Suffolk, where funnyman Russell Brand beat his own demons. The centre is just 15 miles from Highpoint Prison, near Newmarket, where junkie Blake was sent earlier this month.
The clinic plan follows Amy’s shambolic performances at the weekend’s V Festiva..
Years of marital counseling has taught me that nothing benefits a relationship like separate jail and rehab stints. Except maybe years of gradual arsenic poisoning, a flight of cement stairs and a $500,000 life insurance policy with an accidental death benefit rider. Call me, boys!
Amy Winehouse was out in London last night and, according to the Sun UK, beat up on some lady who was trying to help her stumbling, drunk ass:
The troubled singer was out and about in Camden when a passer-by grabbed her, seemingly concerned for her health.
But Amy lashed out at the middle-aged woman – giving her a hard slap and screaming: “Let f***ing go of me, d***head.”
As she walked away, Amy carried on shouting at her victim, calling her a “f***ing bitch”.
Amy Winehouse is doing wonders for British tourism. Why, just the other day I was at the store and overheard two old ladies talking about how they wanted to spend all their retirement savings on a lavish overseas trip where they dump their lifetime’s worth of earnings into the economy of a foreign nation.
Mildred: I think we should go to London and spend lots of money there, Eunice.
Eunice: But Mildred, that’s where that Amy Winehouse lives! My Medicare doesn’t cover stab wounds from used needles and staph infections from the bites of rabid singers!
Mildred: Oh, all right. Let’s just go to Italy like everyone else.
I wonder if Amy Winehouse will have to literally shank a geriatric in a wheelchair and then try to snort one of their eyeballs before someone finally has the sense to send her to prison?
Ice cream giants Ben & Jerry’s will not be dedicating an ice cream flavor to singer Amy Winehouse. Digital Spy says
The ice cream makers currently produce flavors named after musician Jerry Garcia and the Vermont band Phish [and] a limited edition ice cream in tribute to Elton John called Goodbye Yellow Brickle. Founder Jerry Greenfield told Heat: “I’m not sure that Amy has the proper image that Ben and Jerry’s wants to be connected with.”
So I guess this means no Moose Track Marks or Crunky Junky on supermarket shelves. Too bad. But you can still add old syringes, cigarette butts and scabs to a scoop of vanilla for that authentic Winehouse flavor!
Singer Amy Winehouse is back home this morning after being rushed to the emergency room last night with an “allergic reaction to medica–” aw, fuck it, she overdosed again, okay? Geez. The Daily Mail reports
Paramedics were called by father Mitch after Amy reportedly suffered an episode of ‘fitting’. The singer was wheeled out of her north London home just after 8:40 pm by paramedics as [her] father watched [on].
Her spokesman said in a statement: ‘Amy Winehouse suffered a reaction to medication at home this evening and was taken to hospital. Doctors have advised that she will be kept under observation overnight and is likely to be released tomorrow.’
I don’t know why Amy Winehouse’s doctors would even bother with a diagnosis anymore. They could just draw a big frowny face on her chart with X’s for eyes and a tongue sticking out and call it a day. Maybe pencil in a couple of flies and stink lines around the head for credibility and bellow “DEAD MAN WALKIN’!” every time they opened it. Or they could just swap it out for a blank autopsy report. We’re splitting hairs at this point, really.
Amy Winehouse spent her Saturday night partying in Camden, and by “partying” I of course mean “punching windows and bare-knuckling security gates.” Sounds fun, doesn’t it? According to The Daily Mail
Amy started running with a mystery pal to live music bar Stables. Before she got to the club she slumped down outside a shop, then jumped up to slam her fist into the shop’s metal security blind. She arrived home in a distraught, tearful state with red marks on her face. Her hands were filthy and one of her fingers was blackened from punching the grill.
Who could blame her? We all know how much smack security gates talk. It’s all, “Who you lookin’ at, bitch?” this and “That’s right — keep walkin’” that. I just try to avoid them now. And don’t even get me started on ATMs or newspaper stands. They might try to tell me I’m a “paranoid schizophrenic” with “delusions” and that I “need to take my thorazine,” but they don’t fool me for a minute. I know a trouble-maker when I see one.
Amy Winehouse was photographed taking a step in the right direction yesterday — smoking a little Mary Jane while cruising around London with a friend. Finally. This bitch could seriously use a joint or seventeen. Mellow her out a little. God knows alcohol just turns her into the Tasmanian Devil with a beehive and coke makes her a snarling, clawing mess of insane, so marijuana is just the thing to quiet her demons. Provided you don’t have a two by four or a tranquilizer gun handy, of course.
Amy Winehouse reportedly flashed her tits at husband Blake Fielder-Civil while visiting him in jail yesterday. According to Digital Spy
The singer pulled down her top and pushed her breasts up against the glass partition separating her from Fielder-Civil. A prison visitor said: “It was not a pleasant sight. Amy seemed completely out of it.”
I’d say “not a pleasant sight” is a bit of an understatement. It’d be looking at two scabby fried eggs you found on the ground and then squashed and slid around on a dirty window. And the scabby fried eggs are attached to the alien from Predator’s head and the alien is making the tongue-between-the-fingers sign for cunnilingus and snarling at you through the partition. I’ve had nightmares that weren’t that hideous. I’m pretty sure hara-kiri is the only respectable choice for your penis once you’ve seen something like that.
Going for her third unprovoked assault in less than two weeks, Amy Winehouse turned on her bodyguard and whaled him right in the kisser last night. The Daily Mail says
Returning home from one of her regular Camden haunts, Amy hit her waiting bodyguard directly in the face. And by the looks of things he felt the full force of her hand, grimacing in pain as she went in for another blow.
It’s like that famous fight in ‘51 when tiny little white guy Rocky Marciano beat defending heavyweight champion and black behemoth of a man Joe Louis. Only instead of a heart of gold and a tenacity never-before-seen in the boxing ring, you’ve got unchecked paranoia and a bloodstream full of crack cocaine. The left hook is about the same, though. All she’s really missing is the giant belt.
Amy Winehouse punched another of her fans outside her flat in Camden late Saturday night, but not for touching her beehive. According to the The Sun
A source said: “Amy had her bottom pinched and blamed the fan taking her picture. She just lashed out and clumped him. He laughed it off.”
You might worry that Amy will end up withering away in some cold jail cell if she keeps assaulting her fans, what with that emaciated frame and lack of body fat to protect her vital organs. Not to worry. She seems to have a healthy pelt down below to keep her warm. With that nest of pubes, the scampering of the body lice ought to be more than enough to keep her nether regions toasty and warm. Or at least provide enough matted hair to fashion a backup beehive. Form and function, my friends!
Amy Winehouse was back in full force at Nelson Mandela’s 90th birthday concert Friday night, but her Glastonbury performance the following day didn’t go quite as swimmingly. When Amy left the stage for the pit during a rendition of “Rehab,” she somehow ended up in a fistfight with a member of the audience. There are several theories as to the impetus behind the attack, including (via The Daily Mail ):
[1.] Crowd members claimed the singer lashed out in response to a derogatory comment about her husband Blake Fielder-Civil, after she spent much of the show making slurring references to ‘my Blakey’.
[2.] Her publicist said she had reacted instinctively when someone tried to pull her trademark beehive hairdo.
[3.] Festival organiser Michael Eavis’s version of events was that the man had made a grab at Miss Winehouse’s breasts.
Or 4) Amy Winehouse is fucking insane. Ding ding ding ding! She actually started off the concert by spitting her gum into the audience, berating their manners when they booed her precious Blake, and later singing “I’m not opening for a cunt like Kanye.”* She’s like the Patches O’Houlihan of live performing. You half expect her to belt out, “Is it ‘necessary’ to punch my fans in the face? Is it necessary for me to drink my own urine? No, but I do it anyway because it’s sterile and I like the taste!” before pelting the audience with a sackful of wrenches.
