You might be. If you have not gotten laid in a while, and haven't really been trying, you could have sexual anorexia, an actual medical problem. This is what world famous celebrity rehabist Dr. Drew tells us this morning anyway.
We've been anticipating last night's Celebrity Rehab 2 premiere for some time now—we'd been pestering the good Dr. Drew Pinsky himself about it as far back as June when taping had just begun, and as recently as Wednesday had excitedly teased an entertaining scene featuring Gary Busey unpacking a Samsonite case full of spare change, hair highlighter, and coke-flecked dog fur. We wanted to wait to watch the full opener in all its self-destructive glory on TV, however, which we did. It didn't take long before we were clutching our knees to our chest, rocking back and forth, and repeating, "Why? Oh God, why?" We run down for you now the five most heart-sinkingly awful moments: 1. Steven Adler Recounts His Suicide Attempt. We meet the former Guns n' Roses drummer in the living room of a small, sparsely furnished home with smashed-in (by Adler) front windows, moaning that he wants to die. Things then proceed to go downhill from there. Try not to wince as you hear him recount the time he ingested 100 Valiums, a bottle of Jagermeister, and heroin in an attempt at killing himself, but only managed to achieve a stroke and paralysis. Hey—you wanted Celebreality. 2. Amber Smith Unveils A Week's Worth Of Prescription Drugs. We like Amber. We liked her immediately. She still retained her looks, besides doing enough uppers and downers every week to kill a Beluga Whale, and she seems to have a pretty good perspective on where she's come from, and where she needs to go. Still, it's one thing to hear someone tell you they're addicted to prescription meds—quite another for them to open their weekly pill organizer and reveal what looks like one of those one-pound bags of M&Ms spilled into its various compartments. Hang in there, girl.
Fans of Celebrity Rehab's first season will recall it featured several breakout recoveries, including those of failed hip-hop superduo Vikki & Kenickie, as well as the addictionless Joanie "Chyna" Laurer, who right up until CR commencement exercises refused to reveal the enigmatic circumstances that led her into the program. Tomorrow night, the second season premieres on VH1, but a preview already posted online suggests that Gary Busey—who's made it clear his involvement is strictly as mystical, recovering-coke-fiend mahatma to the other patients—could wind up contributing more story-editor-nip drama to the proceedings than spiritual guidance.In the following video, the actor describes his ongoing struggles with Bolivian marching powder, reaching near Marcia Brady-levels of desperation and interspecies-sexual-favor-trading in order to get his hands on the stimulant. When time comes for check-in, rehab tech Shelly finds an agitated and uncooperative Busey unwilling to part with essentials like mouthwash, mobile phones, and large bags of weed, while minutes later a concerned Dr. Drew listens compassionately as a broken Busey relays the time he snorted blow off his own dog's back. Helluvuh drug.
After months of open canoodling with celebrity DJ Samantha Ronson, Lindsay Lohan has stopped playing coy about whether the two of them are in a relationship, finally confirming the news on (of all places) last night's episode of the radio show Loveline. And she wasn't even prompted by the harsh interrogation techniques of Dr. Drew, either! No, Lohan — who had the phone passed to her after Ronson called in to discuss her hospitalized friend DJ AM — was caught flat-footed after an innocent question by Dr. Drew's cohost, Stryker.Asked, "You and Samantha have been going out for how long now?" Lohan giggled and demurred, but Stryker pressed on. "Like two years?" he asked. "One year? Five months? Two months?" Finally, Lohan allowed, "A very long time." The MySpace pundit then accepted compliments on her relationship, eventually signing off in a bit of Italian that stumps the hosts (is that how lesbians talk?). Our congratulations go out to the newly confirmed couple. Stryker, you'd better prepare for tonight's inevitable Michael Lohan call-in. [Loveline]
If you happened to miss the two dozen or so reminders that your humble, athletically-ungifted Defamer editor would be a featured guest on Dr. Drew Pinsky's radio show this past Friday, we've collected some of the highlights for your listening pleasure. (Before you judge our performance too harshly, you must consider for a moment how nervous we were to be in the presence of the man who taught us everything we know about the relative riskiness of the fringe sexual practices that defined much of our experimental late-20s.) Drew surprised us right off the bat by opening up the floor to our own questions. We took the bait and started grilling him about his recent feud with Tom Cruise and the first word from the set of Celebrity Rehab 2.
While they may seem to occupy far flung quadrants of the celebrity spectrum, Tom Cruise and Dr. Drew Pinsky share more than one might initially surmise. Both are charming and boyishly handsome men in their mid-to-late 40s, and both have devoted a good part of their lives to helping celebrities and non-celebrities alike overcome the various chemical dependencies preventing them from achieving their full potential as human beings. It's in the approach where they diverge, for while Pinsky employs a more traditional treatment of group therapy and close medical monitoring, Cruise instead adheres to the lesser-proven Scientological methodology of prescribed vitamins, rigorous shvitzing, and however many hundreds of auditing hours might be required to fully rid oneself of one's recreational-drug-loving thetans.
If you, like us, couldn't get enough of Celebrity Rehab—VH1's groundbreaking reality show born when it suddenly occurred to producers witnessing Brigitte Nielsen's umpteenth Strange Love blackout, "Hey—wait a second. Maybe we should get that woman some help...and film the entire thing!"—then you'll be thrilled to hear that the second batch of marginally famous in-patients are currently under Dr. Drew's care. Among this season's cast, the lovably problematic Jeff Conaway returns for another attempt at detox—and where Jeff goes, so too goes his demon-enabling succubus girlfriend Vicki. But there will be a whole slew of new faces, too, including—Higher-Power be with them—astonishingly sober life-coach, Gary Busey. From the press release:
Night sweats? Crippling depression? Physical incapacitation? Yes, you're probably experiencing Celebrity Rehab withdrawal systems. To help ween you off the sweet high of a season spent freebasing Dr. Drew and his ragtag gang of Pasadena Recovery Center misfits, Defamer videographer Molly McAleer brings you outtakes from today's Very Special Tyra™, an episode devoted entirely to the behaviors and mating habits of the drunkus slutticus, more commonly known as the urban party girl. What the girls didn't see coming—not even the one who casually relates the time she totally forgot about the hookup-dampering tampon she was harboring—was that Dr. Drew himself was on hand for a Dr. Drew® Intervention™. With him, his lovely assistant Mary Carey, who saw in these troubled, ladies-of-the-ladies'-night a version of her own, formerly hammered self. Whether they chose to heed her warnings, fearful of a fate in which they too find themselves regaining consciousness on an unfamiliar bathroom floor (a scenario rendered all the more disconcerting once you crawl out of the stall and notice the row of urinals lining the wall) is really up to them. [Tyra]
Last night was the Celebrity Rehab reunion show. Your at-a-glance scorecard:
· Still sober: Brigitte Nielsen and Ricco Rodriguez;
· Still in denial: Chyna Joanie Doll-Laurer;
· Absent: Daniel Baldwin (not invited) and Jessica Sierra (currently back in treatment under Dr. Drew's care);
· Fresh off 3-day crack-out bender: Seth Binzer.
And then there is Jeff Conaway and Vikki Lizzi, the Stanley and Stella Kowalski of the Pasadena Recovery Center, whose every high-decibel, wheelchair-flinging domestic squabble was recorded for posterity by the ever-present reality cameras.
Dr. Drew appeared on The View today to update the world on the status of his Celebrity Rehab patients (tally: one jailed, one Scientology convert, the rest currently missing). The hosts had a difficult time swallowing one point in particular, being why anyone would allow such a difficult and deeply private journey to play out for reality TV cameras. Could it be as simple of Joy Behar's blunt assessment that these personalities are most addicted to celebrity itself?
We've already acknowledged our powerlessness over the reality drug that is VH1's Celebrity Rehab, so we're not even going to preface this with any sort of disclaimer: This shit's some high-grade, Z-list mess-amphetamine we're dealing in here, and we're proud to declare ourselves a bitch to its pipe. Where to start! Daniel dismissed himself from the program, for, as best as we can make out, sending (ballet-class enthusiast!) Mary Carey suggestive cellphone images of his little Baldwin—a scandal that quickly wreaked untold havoc on the carefully controlled atmosphere of their burnout biodome. Semi-regular series villain Vicki, who seems less a human than a relapse-hastening she-gremlin sent down to producers from story editor heaven, was caught smuggling vodka in via Vitamin Water bottle during a visit to Jeff.
Last night's installment of Celebrity Rehab delivered perhaps its most poignant moment since decided to convert the Pasadena Recovery Center into a melancholy-tinged version of its Surreal Life house. In a move we'll assume is generally unnecessary inside the walls of a rehabilitation facility, Dr. Drew and his troubled, semi-famous charges staged an intervention on behalf of Joanie Chyna in a desperate attempt to figure out why, exactly, she's on the show; as an avowed non-alcoholic or drug-abuser, Joanie's very presence was so bedeviling to her fellow addicts that such a drastic measure was required to puzzle through the mystery of her casting.
Yes, yes, we know what we said last week (and, um, the week before that) about trying to shake the Celebrity Rehab monkey off our back, but, like the self-destructive guests of the Pasadena Recovery Center (except for Chyna, who's completely faking just to get some more Vh1 screen time), we're powerless against that which is bad for us. Now that the disclaimers about our own human failings are out of the way:
