February 5th, 2008

sledge hammer!

why can't we have drunk celebrities like this any more?

Substance abuse is ever more popular in Hollywood; you've pretty much got a tough job finding the celebrities who aren't deeply screwed up or on drugs. So here's a question: if we've got so many drunk or drugged out celebrities, how come so few of them are *cool* drunks or fuggies? You know what I mean: the ones who do balls-out stupid stuff, but have a style about it that you can't help but admire, in a perverse way -- roguishness, I guess, is what I'm looking for.

Case in point: Oliver Reed.

I ran across this Youtube clip of Oliver Reed drunk on talk shows, and there's something in it that's just glorious. Reed is astoundingly skunked (even more so than this guy), and he's not immune to horrifying moments -- a bit where he attempts to sing rock'n'roll must be seen to be believed. But the candor, the cheerfulness, and the moments of surprising tenderness (watch, particularly, his answer to the question "Why do you drink?"), give him a panache that modern celebrity inebriants just don't have.

The past got this; we have Paula Abdul. It ain't fair.
pointy teeth

vultures above

When I got home today, I noticed something odd across the street. Vultures, lots of them, in the trees and in the undergrowth. I parked the car, went into the cabin, let out the dog, then put her on lead and walked over to see what the birds had chosen to go NOM NOM NOM on. I was worried that it might be somebody's pet, or a stray dog, but no -- it was a deer. No fooling, a good-sized deer, with a hole in its shoulder where vultures had been nibbling. Not sure if it was hit by a car, or just selected that moment to drop dead, but there it was.

The odd thing is that the smell of decomp wasn't so strong right there, but back in the pasture near my cabin, across the road and a little down from it, MAN was the pong strong. Puzzled the hell out of the dog, who was sniffing the air in the pasture and wandering around, obviously wondering, "Well, okay, where the heck *is* it?"

DOG. *sniff sniff*
HINES. "No, you're not allowed to roll in it."
DOG. "..."
DOG. "BOSS. You READ MY MIND."
HINES. "I know, honey. I know."