Since she checked out of rehab two weeks ago, singer Amy Winehouse has been living in a suite at the Riverbank Plaza Hotel in London without ever allowing the staff in to clean. Management finally let themselves in while she was perfoming at the Brits and discovered several thousand dollars worth of damage to the room and mounds of dirty underpants all over the floor. The Sun quotes a staff member of the prestigious hotel as saying:

“It was covered in booze and [cigarette] butts, absolutely disgusting. The bed hadn’t been changed since she arrived and most of the room had been used as an ashtray. There was dirty underwear everywhere and the place smelt. She had taken a mirror off the wall and laid it on the floor. One can only guess what for. The bath had to be scrubbed and unblocked from balls of matted hair. It took three maids two hours to get it in a habitable order.”

She reminds me a lot of Pig Pen from Charlie Brown. Only instead of little stink lines and specks of dirt, there’d be a cloud of syringes and cigarette butts and soiled panties swirling about wherever she went. Someone really ought to take a page from Leviticus and make her wear a bell around her neck and shout “unclean! unclean!” like the lepers back in Bible times. Abject humiliation works like a charm. I know it sure helped my parents with the finer points of potty-training me and my sister. Trust me, it only takes one time of being sent to school in the pants you just crapped with a bell and strict instructions to announce your befoulment to any classmate who came too close for you to never have an accident again. Like my mom always said, if it’s good enough for Moses, it’s damn well good enough for you.

Amy performing Wednesday while the cleaning staff waded through her dirty underpants: