Singer Courtney Love has gone under the knife again in an attempt to look more “natural.” The Post-Chronicle reports:

Courtney Love has undergone a second rhinoplasty procedure to enlarge her nose and [have] her previously enlarged lips reduced. Courtney wrote on her blog: “I have my old nose back. I hated that nosejobby nose, it was like a little beak. I’ve had my nose fixed. It looks like the one God gave me so I’m happy not to have crazy lips and a crazy teensy unnatural little nose. All I care about is that my self esteem is limitless and intact, and that nothing and no situation affects my self esteem.”

So Courtney Love has self-esteem? How did that happen? I figured she was a self-mutilator always a bottle of whiskey away from blowing her own head off. You know, on account of the pastiness and ugliness and everything. All ugly people are self-destructive and suicidal, right? I wouldn’t really know, because I’m so fucking gorgeous. Seriously, this one time a little boy with epilepsy touched my face and he was healed. And I’m pretty such my vagina is a portal to immortality. Just ask my ex-husband — I fed him arsenic for a year straight and the bastard still didn’t die. Beauty as powerful as mine can be such a burden sometimes.

I’m sure when you think “parental role model” and “maternal instinct,” the first person that comes to mind is Courtney Love. Spot-on. You can’t forget the important role Kurt Cobain played in his child’s life before he offed himself in a heroin-induced stupor. Sunday’s Page Six revealed,

It was a wild scene at the hospital when Courtney Love gave birth to her and Kurt Cobain’s only child, Frances Bean, an upcoming tell-all reveals. In “Nirvana - The Biography,” author Everett True describes how Cobain and Love both ended up at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in L.A. within days of each other in August 1992 - the grunge rocker checking in for a 60-day heroin detox stint and Love, a few days later, for complications arising from her pregnancy.

Two weeks into his stay, Love found herself about to go into labor. According to True: “Courtney grabbed her intravenous drip stand at 4 in the morning, and wheeled it down the corridors to where Kurt was staying. ‘You get out of this bed and come down now!’ she screamed. ‘You are not leaving me to do this by myself, [fuck] you!’

“Her husband followed her to the delivery room - weakened from his treatment, and hooked up to an IV stand himself - and passed out just moments before Frances was born.” Then things got even weirder when, as Courtney related to True, “I’m having the baby, it’s coming out, [Kurt's] puking, he’s passing out and I’m holding his hand and rubbing his stomach while the baby’s coming out.”

I got a little tear in my eye when I read that. It sounds like something from a movie, or a wonderful fairy tale. A fairy tale where the young princess cowers under her bed while the queen and king scream obscenties at each other and then shoot up in the tower room. And the king wields a shot gun and the queen screams, “I should have had a fucking abortion!” on a regular basis. The end.

It turns out that sobriety isn’t everything Courtney Love thought it was going to be. The widow of Nirvana frontman Kurt Cobain claims that random sexual intercourse with strangers has become a thing of the past since abandoning the booze and heroin. She tell the Post-Chronicle:

“The only thing with sobriety is that promiscuity goes right out the window. I don’t have a boyfriend. This is the longest time I’ve gone without one. I wish I could hang with dykes, but I’ve got [cock] written all over my brow. I’ve had so many obsessive relationships.”

To be fair, I once had “cock” written on my forehead, too. But it was because I’d passed out at a kegger and some of my “friends” took turns decorating my face with a permanent marker, not because I’m a disgusting forty-two year old whore with the social graces of a mentally defective orangutan. My buddies also drew a couple of penises (replete with testicles) on both of my cheeks and put a swastika on my chin. The next day I scrubbed and scrubbed until my face was nearly raw, but no matter what I did, you could still make out the faint outline of marker on my skin. The best part was that I had a job interview the very next day, and they couldn’t reschedule, so I had to go with the remnants of swears and male genitals and anti-Semetic symbols still on my face. I quickly discovered that a blatant love of cock will only get you places in the music industry, because Bank of America had no interest in hiring me. Bastards.

Courtney Love has reportedly sold 25% of Nirvana’s back catalogue to Larry Mestel, a music mogul. When the sale was rumoured earlier this year, U2 singer Bono was in the frame but it appears that meetings between Bono and Love came to nothing. Courtney says:

“We’re going to remain very tasteful, and we’re going to retain the spirit of Nirvana and take Nirvana to places it’s never been before.”

That girl scares the shit out of me. She’s an unpredictable crack whore so don’t be surprised if you hear a Kurt Cobain song featuring Ashlee Simpson in the near future. Damn.

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