Demi Moore has been hospitalized due to "exhaustion." Who, besides the rich, are ever hospitalized for exhaustion? Fuck - I'm exhausted. You don't see me trotting off to a hospital saying, "Admit me, I'm fucking exhausted man!"
I think by now we've come to know that the term "hospitalized for exhaustion" is just another way of saying "overdose." Perhaps in the case of some size 0 models, it could really mean "she hasn't eaten anything in three months" - if so, shouldn't the model just be admitted to the local McDonald's for a couple of hamburgers and call it good?
I digress - let's get back to Demi Moore, shall we? What the fuck did she smoke that was "similar to incense" - a bag of potpourri? Or maybe a sachet from her underwear drawer? I think not.
Apparently due to "privacy issues," parts of the 911 call were redacted. I get it - but jeepers, let's not try to be fooled into thinking that Demi Moore, broken up over the demise of her marriage, decided to light up something that's almost as innocent as incense. Because that simply did not happen. She acted like a meth head let loose in a meth lab and grabbed everything near her that could get her high.
The real part of this story that pisses me off, though, is that Demi Moore is having a very public breakdown because she lost that fucking loser Ashton Kutcher. Seriously sister? You should be kickin' up your heels and celebrating. He was cheating on you for years. Plus, he's not even a good actor!
Here's a hard truth, sister: People lose all respect for women who self-medicate to get over someone. The fact that your self-medication became public is humiliating and embarrassing - not just for you, but for all women of a "certain age." You might be thinking we're in your corner, saying "Oh you poor thing. We understand."
Nah - we're sitting around the water cooler saying, "What a fucking bimbo! Did she really think Ashton was in it for the long haul, especially when he was flicking his dick every which way but loose?"
Look lady - you're rich. Don't spend your money on drugs; take yourself on a whirlwind vacay around the world. Or scurry off to a spa. Or buy yourself a boy toy. Just please, stay away from the drugs.
For heaven's sake, use a little common sense. People don't pity a self-medicating cry baby. Take a page from Jennifer Aniston's book: act with a little dignity, okay? Then maybe we'll feel sorry for you.
In the meantime, stay away from incense. Especially the Nag Champa. I hear it's a killer.