Pete Doherty, an entertainer of children who just may have some blood in his heroin system, has been thrown in the clink. The Babyshambles frontman and former paramour of hollow-boned Kate Moss ("Ow, my bones...") has been sent to English prison (a land without tea) for 14 weeks. On what charges, my good man? Well, for "breach of time keeping, non-compliance of his order and using different drugs." Ah. Different drugs. Had he stayed with the old ones... well, none of this would have happened. He'll miss two scheduled performances and untold instances of pants-wetting and sadness-inducing, and is thusly looking into filing an appeal. Perhaps the outcome of the appeal will finally determine once and for all if Pete is in fact famous enough to never really get in trouble, or if he's just a miserable shit like the rest of us. [Showbiz Spy]

A typical cocktail of drugs and prurient sexual behavior this morning. Some of it's hippy dippy and pleasant and family-oriented. Some of it is Sapphic and strange. Why are there never blind items that aren't about drugs or sex? Can't we get a good old fashioned accidental murder? Judging from James Ellroy novels, that used to happen a lot back in 1950's LA. Let's make that happen again. It was so dark and smoky and sultry. Now it's just some old dude smoking pot with a kid or yet another promising actor tweeking at some sun-baked Los Angeles event. Sigh. Well, here we go anyway. "Which A-lister toked up with his younger co-star during filming of their megablockbuster? The duo, along with the youngster's dad, smoked pot in the star's trailer, causing the crew to create a code name for when they were stoned." [Rush & Molloy] Three more items, including one long one, after the jump.

The always-surprising, always-annoying David Blaine plans on staying awake for 13 days for his next "stunt," and Keith Richards has some anecdotal advice for him. As Richards' latest bout of playing Dr. Phil proves, Blaine's newest idea isn't so original; Keef already decided to see what would happen by forcing himself not to sleep for 9 consecutive days back in the '70s. As Richards told the SF Gate, "On the ninth day...I fell asleep and crashed headfirst into a JVC speaker, smashing my nose apart. I just lay there and let it bleed. It was a chemical thing." While we're sure these rocker words of wisdom won't deter Blaine's masterful and magical plans, we do suggest he avoids snorting ashes and takes Keith's advice to nose-proof whatever fish tank he envisions pulling this off inside of. [SF Gate]

As far as celebrity memoirs go, Bobby Brown's upcoming The Truth, The Whole Truth, And Nothing But seems atypically packed with good, sound advice. From teaching readers that girls nicknamed Superhead are probably only good for one thing to lessons on how to take advantage of a major star's bad press in order to marry them, Brown is a regular Velvet Jones when it comes to dispensing words of wisdom. Even when it comes to his well-documented problems with cocaine, Brown is able to find a simple solution to dodging responsibility — just blame Whitney Houston!

Natasha Collins, a former model who starred in a British children's TV show called "See It, Saw It," was found dead in a bathtub in January. Today, a coroner's report said that she died by being scalded to death in the hot bathwater, and that she had "Five times the potentially fatal amount of cocaine" in her system at the time. She and her fiancee—whom she met while he was working on another kids show—had been partying at home alone when she died. Collins wasn't always in costume; after the jump, a few of her normal modeling shots.

The MGM Grand is rushing to fill in what Las Vegas has been lacking: a massive poolside nightclub that is a thinly veiled destination for celebrities to do coke and have semi-public sex. More specifically, it's "WET REPUBLIC," and it's Vegas' first "ULTRA POOL," and "water is the leitmotif." "Swanky"! Enjoy its "sultry lounge" and "sensuous South Beach ambiance" and "delicious atmosphere" and "massages by skilled therapists" and "seductively modern vibe" and "illusion of a never-ending flow of water." And while you're doing that, the VIPs will be upstairs getting naked in their cabanas with six groupies and a big pile of blow, without having to physically swivel their chairs.

Somebody in Britain (God?) is now mass marketing a $1,600 injection that women can get to triple the sensitivity of their G-spot, and increase its area "to the size of a 10p coin and a quarter of an inch high." I don't know British money, that's like, the size of a CD? "Woman sex drug | For female multiple orgasms | Makes G spot swell," summarizes The Sun. Nice. [The Sun UK]

Everyone loves LSD. It makes you smarter, happier, and life gets totally interesting. (Actually, it's so freaking scary it makes me cry. Drugs're bad, mm'kay?) But what sweet, sweet chemical elves invented the stuff? And why? Well, sure, you could read some musty old text on the subject, but that's hardly trippy. Instead, here it is in cartoon form! [phocks.org via Digg] While we're on the subject, what was your best/worst psychedelic experience?

Having (so far) failed to entice British power duo Posh 'n Becks into their ever-growing nest of celebrity Scientologists, Tom Cruise and Co. have apparently decided that their next best approach to conquering Great Britain is to aim a few notches lower on the celebrity totem pole. The Sun is reporting that 2007 tabloid fixture Pete Doherty is "is hooked on the barmy religion which believes humans are an exiled race from outer space" [Ed. Note - Barmy?] and that he "has bought a pile of books on the subject" ever since falling into the sack with a Scientologist DJ (presumably not Danny Masterson, but you never know). But if we were running the CoS, we'd be a wee bit nervous about inducting Doherty into the clan; despite having killed more brain cells than Ozzy Osbourne, Pete's not exactly the kind of guy one should entrust with keeping secrets.

Kenan Thompson, SNL castmember and beloved icon of childhood for bloggers of a certain ridiculously young age, was driving a white Escalade a bit erratically Wednesday night, because of the Mary Jane. Thankfully, Kenan's passenger proved himself to be the biggest bro in the history of brodom. The Smoking Gun explains what happened when the cops pulled Kenan over:

Generation Rx sounded pretty cool when the term was first coined, but now that Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Britney and Lindsay have all boarded the Adderall bandwagon, we fear the pill-popping twenty-something crowd has officially snorted the shark. According to reports in both the New York Daily News and on abc.com, crushing the little blue pills and snorting them is the oh-so-coolest way to stay skinny, replacing old time faves caffeine, cigs and (if you're adventurous) cocaine. But just as we started hating on all the celebs using the pill-of-the-week to lose weight, we read a bit more about who else in Hollywood is hooked on the jitterbuggy meds. After the jump, learn which highest of highbrow actresses is also suspected of Adderall addiction:

A tipster — tipsy? — shares this information about StumbleUpon founder and The 250 member in good standing Garrett Camp: "If you meet Camp, get his business card. Get several, if you can." Whatever for? "The cards are prized in certain SoMa circles, but not for the information printed on the front: They're ideal for rolling roaches. True, any unlaminated card can suffice, but apparently the cardboard in Camp's cards is the 'perfect consistency' for joints." If you find yourself in immediate need, Camp's office is directly above the 111 Minna art gallery in San Francisco. Smoke 'em if you've got 'em. (Photo via Technology Review)

Former Jezebel intern and attempted Paris Hilton free-er David Seaman was on Fox's Morning Show With Mike and Juliet today to talk about Salvia, the hot new (legal!) drug that's taking America's colleges by storm. "They told me I'd be on to talk about why I'm in favor of keeping certain drugs legal," Seaman said in an email to friends and colleagues, "and why many college students agree that some decriminalization for soft drugs makes sense." He had a little argument worked out and everything! But he was on The Morning Show With Mike and Juliet so they actually just sat him next to some mook who posts clips of kids having bad trips on YouTube and interviewed a doctor who says all the drugs will cause deadly car crashes. Then they introduced a girl whose brother killed himself on the Salvia! Seaman's entertaining email describing his ordeal is after the jump. A brief clip is attached.

In the Guardian, Tom Sykes, author of addiction memoir What Did I Do Last Night?, tells us how his publisher, along with a lawyer, made him fact-check his memoir: by sending the manuscript to everyone mentioned, including his drug dealer! Some of these people, while accurately described, were pissed. Especially Chris Wilson, formerly of Page Six and currently of Maxim!

Moby, the purposely bald and nerdy musician frequently seen wandering the Lower East Side in search of commercials to score, is warning his brethren in the music industry about the dangers of drugs. "I look at Pete Doherty and Amy Winehouse, I wonder what they're going to be capable of when they're 30, in terms of cognitive and emotional abilities. Drugs burn you out," says the diminutive drum programmer, who knows too much about teabags. "You feel bulletproof if you're selling records and making money and everyone wants to sleep with you, but then things start to go wrong." In other news, somebody once wanted to sleep with Moby. [ohnotheydidnt]

The Montreal-based social network that's teetering on the edge of extinction was a family affair, both in the nepotism sense and allegedly in the mafia sense. That's according to a former employee who sent in an epic tale of sex, drugs and shady business dealings under CEO Luc Verville, pictured here in happier times. His brother Michel, a cofounder, was kicked out of the company — but not before generating some serious ill will among employees:

Capazoo, a Canadian social network which promised to pay users for signing up friends, is is going under. The company has fired its 60-person development staff, which took two years to launch the site, and ended up attracting a little over 10,000 users. The best part of the site, by far, is its deadpan Web infomercial, where users like Corey Vidal, pictured here, talk about how they didn't make any money off MySpace or YouTube. TechCrunch reports that founders Michel and Luc Verville allegedly took $2 million out of the $25 million in venture capital the company raised. It doesn't mention what they spent it on. Here's the report from a company insider:

Buying Girl Scout cookies is a little like buying drugs: there's no real regulation, the prices are wildly inflated and it's all about having connections. If Tagalongs were sold at bodegas, the whole culture surrounding them would be different. Instead, buying Girl Scout cookies, which are no worse than regular cookies (and in fact are a treat that some people enjoy, in moderation, more than regular cookies) has its own stigma: the stigma of hanging out with 11 year-old girls. So now some decent citizens, who just want to provide ordinary people easy access to Thin Mints, have started selling them eBay, which some people are taking issue with. Look, "girls" can't corner this market forever. Legalize.

Novelist Irvine Welsh found a bunch of notes for his 1993 novel Trainspotting, about the seamy, druggy world of Edinburgh junkies in the 80s, and decided there's enough for a prequel. The prequel will cover the halcyon younger days of his main characters, and their descent: "It's about how Renton and Sick Boy went from being daft young guys just out for the buzz on drugs, to total junkies," he told London's Times. [Times Online]

Today's after-school special comes, as most do these days, from YouTube. Though recently 5150'd Jackass star Steve-O currently has bigger things to worry about than who's hacking into his account and putting these frightening home videos up in his absence, we certainly get a bitter taste of just what those things are after viewing this clip. After revealing a Winehouse-ian nostril dusted with white powder in the first ten seconds, Steve-O spends the next four minutes attempting to show us how to juggle in his backyard. But he's noticeably, uh, distracted, and spends most of that time ranting about the war in Iraq, all the spacial dimensions that go ka-boom, and saddest of all, ruminates on this question: "Who cares when you die?" The most surefire way to teach your kids why drugs are bad, after the jump.