Amy Winehouse found herself back in the hospital after a screaming phone-fight with husband Blake Fielder-Civil spurred her to drink herself epileptic. According to The Sun

A source close to the troubled singer said: “[She and Blake] had a screaming row. She was beside herself after the call – and she just totally lost it. [The bender afterward] didn’t stop until she was [seizing] on the floor on Sunday.”

Amy’s spokesman confirmed she was taken to hospital on Sunday but claimed she had “a bad reaction to the combination of medication she has currently been prescribed.”

The last time I checked, antibiotics weren’t supposed to be washed down with whiskey and post-nasal coke drip. The only thing you should ever wash down with booze and stimulant-tinged mucous are anti-psychotics and muscle relaxers. And the demon seed of Davy Jones if you’ve been up all night blowing sailors, which goes without saying around these parts. Thank God Dr. Abby and Dr. Wild Irish Rose still make house calls!

I’ve seriously never heard of Sophie Schandorff, but apparently she’s some sort of German model.  She doesn’t seem that hot in the photos I’ve seen, but she appears to have all her teeth so I suppose I can see the appeal for Blake Fielder-Civil, who left Amy Winehouse for her.  Of course, Blake Fielder-Civil is a fug-ass retard so I’m not sure what Sophie’s getting out of this deal, but to each their own.  Says Amy of the split:

It’s over. There’s no way back for us now. It was never going to last. We were only together for sex. I fancied him like mad, like no one else I’ve ever known. But it’s not enough, is it?

I’m guessing no one was labouring under the delusion that Amy Winehouse and Blake Fielder-Civil had a fairy-tale marriage filled with love and candy hearts and flowers, but still, I hope you didn’t just eat lunch, ‘cuz… barf-o-rama.  It turns out they were into lesbian threesomes and had freaky kinky sex all the time.  According to a friend of Winehouse’s:

Mostly it was Blake suggesting new things but Amy doesn’t need encouragement. They were like animals, at it all the time.

Just like they were with drugs, they pushed themselves to the limit.

They were into threesomes. It was Blake’s idea but Amy said she’d been with women before so it wasn’t a problem. She said she’s had a string of female lovers.

Whenever Blake said he wanted three-in-a-bed Amy would fix it.

They didn’t care about sharing themselves with others because it turned them on. They thought they were on this sexual journey together.

And the pair of them were into some real kinky stuff, not just the usual bondage and sex games but really gross stuff you couldn’t mention in a newspaper.

Um.  Ew.  Ew ew ewww guh-ross.  I would seriously rather reenact the scene from Audition when Aoyama eats a bowl of Asami’s vomit than even think about Blake Fielder-Civil or Amy Winehouse in anything resembling a sexual context.  As a matter of fact, just from typing the word sex in a sentence with their names, I think I can feel my vagina shriveling up and dying.  I’m pretty sure I’m asexual now.

Although he was just sprung from the pokey yesterday, Amy Winehouse has yet to reconcile with husband Blake Fielder-Civil. On the plus side, all that not-reconciling left plenty of time for her to assault nearby photographers. The Daily Mail says

Winehouse looked far from jubilant [the day of Fielder-Civil's release] as she emerged with make-up smeared across her face. She appeared to be in an agitated state, lunging at a photographer [and] shouting: ‘Who’s first? Who wants some?’

Winehouse was [later] pictured clutching a prescription and falling into a cab, her face streaked with dirt and tears.

Just another victorious day for the Winehouse! See, the trick is to set the bar so low that everything short of accidental suicide can be tallied as a resounding success. Sure, I might feel shitty when I first wake up in that ditch covered in vomit, but then I’ll remember I’m not dead and instantly feel okay about myself again. Maybe even give myself a well-deserved pat on the back. Not too hard a pat, though, because chances are good that someone may have tried to surgically remove one of my kidneys again. Anyway, here’s to success, Amy! Mazel Tov!

The binding force behind Amy Winehouse’s and Blake Fielder-Civil’s impassioned relationship has finally been revealed, and it smells like ball sweat and dick cheese. The Sun says

The troubled singer posted the snap – in which Blake exposes his manhood by pulling down his boxers – on her Facebook profile.ANYONE wondering what AMY WINEHOUSE could possibly still see in convicted criminal and druggie hubby BLAKE FIELDER-CIVIL should take a look at the uncensored version of this picture.

Ah, it all makes sense now! Blake’s penis must be made entirely of bricked heroin. Gives a whole new meaning to the term “mount the horse,” doesn’t it? And they say romance is dead!

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!

Said “shambolic performance”:

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.