Posts tagged ‘Charlie Sheen’

The Gall of My Gallbladder

Physicians perform laparoscopic stomach surger...

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I almost never get indigestion. Last October, around the same time as my dog went blind, I had one violent attack of tummy ache. I left work early and took some Tums and laid down. Since then, nothing, until about three weeks ago, when I dared to eat Jack in the Box for breakfast. I would recommend that if you know that you have gallstones (which I didn’t) that you lay off the Jack in the Box.

Pretty soon after that I was experiencing some discomfort. Then I decided to get lunch from Short Bus Subs. Short Bus Subs are excellent, and they offer some healthier sandwiches. However, eating again aggravated my stomach issues, and I went home early because I was in so much pain. The pain was in my central abdominal area, and it was like heartburn, only it wasn’t heartburn. It didn’t reach that far. What it did do was make me violently ill. I threw up in the women’s restroom before I went home.

The next night I went over to the Mr. Brewsters’ so that I could ghost write a cover letter for a job interview. We had chicken and spaghetti. Again, I experienced discomfort of the same sort as before. I drove home and threw up in my kitchen sink. I couldn’t make it as far as the bathroom. That was a Friday night, and I had pain pretty much every day thereafter. It would go away when I went to sleep at night, and I’d wake up the next morning feeling alright. I never knew what was going to set it off. I would eat something and then live in hell for the rest of the day. That is, until the following Thursday.

Thursday I went home a half hour early because that was all I could stand. I felt bloated all the time, like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. And I couldn’t get rid of the air. I popped into bed, took a ton of acid reducers and Tums and lay there miserable while nothing happened. The next morning, more Tums and acid reducers, and I was just as miserable. The pain had kept me up half the night. I chatted one of my coworkers who works from home.

i am so sick to my stomach lately; i’ve been sick since yesterday, and nothing i take makes it any better

do you feel nauseous?


could be your gallbladder. you better go see a doctor.

So, I made an appointment with “my” doctor. Actually, my doctor was in India again, so I made an appointment with someone in her office. I rattle off my symptoms, and the doctor says, “That sounds like it could be your gallbladder.” And I said, “I thought so.” This is because I have the internet and can diagnose and prescribe for myself.

The doctor explained to me that he was going to send me to get an ultrasound. The ultrasound was to check out what was going on down there. If it was my gallbladder, then one of two things could happen. If it wasn’t so bad, then I could live with it until I could schedule a surgery. If it was as bad as he thought it was, then I would probably have to have emergency surgery. He gave me a prescription for some hydrocodone. I went in to work for only long enough to explain to them that I had to go home and take narcotics.

After about an hour, the doctor’s office called. A different doctor than the one I’d seen originally advised me to hold off and schedule the surgery for later. Then the doctor I’d seen originally had a nurse call and tell me to get myself to the emergency room where they would be expecting me for surgery. So, I packed my little overnight bag and drove myself to the emergency room.

Turns out they weren’t expecting me. In severe pain, I walked, with my loaded suitcase and my purse, back and forth from the emergency room to my doctor’s office and back again, twice. They could not admit me. The doctor’s office hadn’t sent the ultrasound or anything they needed. Well, it turned out that the doctor’s office had sent it. I was just asking the wrong people, apparently. When I finally got a bed in the emergency room, after nearly two hours of waiting, a doctor told me that he’d been waiting on me and asked me what took me so long. He was under the impression that I was in my doctor’s office when my doctor called him. No, I told him, I was in the comfort of my own home, enjoying my pain pill. Then I packed my little bag and drove myself here.

Now, when I finally got a bed in the emergency room is when life started to get better. They hooked me up to an IV and gave me morphine. Morphine? I thought that was what they gave to people who were about to die, like terminal cancer patients. Morphine! But seriously, I love morphine. I didn’t even realize how much pain I was in until they gave me the morphine. Wow! This morphine stuff is great.

They moved me to a bed in the hospital. I was going to have surgery the next day. I was not allowed to eat or drink anything. Seriously, I think you’ve never had a gallbladder attack if you think I want anything to eat or drink. Go ahead and hook me up to that saline. I hadn’t eaten since just before noon of the day before. I never wanted to eat anything again for as long as I lived. What was eating but pain and misery? Eating: it’s so not worth it.

In the hospital, they wrapped my legs in these leg warmer pump thingies that they give you to prevent blood clots from surgery. When the orderly came to get me for surgery, first off, he helped me get my computer in my suitcase ‘cause he felt sorry for me, trying to keep the back of my hospital gown closed and close my suitcase at the same time. Then, he grabbed my fancy leg warmers ‘cause he said that they would charge me for new ones unless we took those with us. I am going to spend the rest of my short-lived life paying for this surgery, and every little bit counts. I loved the orderly.

I really don’t remember much about the first procedure, which was the gallbladder surgery itself. I was “under” before they put me under. It was a laparoscopic surgery, so that means that they cut a small incision on the right side of your abdomen, just under your rib cage, just right of your sternum. Then they poke two holes under the incision, further right. They pump you full of gas. They stick a camera inside of your abdomen, along with a light and a tiny vacuum cleaner, I think. Then they basically suck your gallbladder out of you and glue you shut. No kidding. They don’t sew or even staple anymore. They glue you. Someone should redo Operation as a video game and make the players perform simulated laparoscopic surgery. I think there could be some serious money in that.

After they sucked out my gallbladder, there was more! Once I woke up from the surgery they explained that they needed to do a second procedure to remove some gallstones stuck in a duct, along with some bile. Honestly, I didn’t pay attention. There was something about a wire going down my throat, and then a balloon, like an angiogram, and somehow the balloon was going to pick up on this bile and the stones. I wonder how that works exactly. Static electricity? When I woke up the second doctor (the balloon guy) said he “flushed” it four or five times, so he was pretty sure he got the last of the stones and crap. How do you flush something with a balloon? Maybe it was a water balloon. I think it should definitely be a part of the new Operation. Sounds fascinating.

That was Saturday afternoon, and I was told that it was possible that I might get out by Sunday. I called Lubbock, and she insisted on picking me up and having me stay with her for a night or two, and that’s what we did. I called the Mr. Brewsters, and they would have come to visit me on Sunday, but I got released from the hospital before they could make it there. Lubbock drove me to her home where I promptly swallowed two hydrocodone tablets and passed out on her couch. I slept right through the Charlie Sheen special on the Biography Channel. I slept right through a neighbor coming to visit. I slept until sometime in the early morning.

I didn’t get much sleep in the hospital. Someone was always waking me up to change an IV bag or monitor vital signs or poke me with something or other. Not to complain or anything, but I liked the day nurse better than the night nurse. At least he let me sleep some.

On the Tuesday following my surgery I had to go back to the hospital for some kind of test involving kidney function. I gave blood again. Then I decided to go to my doctor and see if the back pain I was experiencing was normal. My doctor couldn’t tell me if that was normal or not. So, I went to the balloon dude’s office, and that doctor’s nurse also didn’t know if it was normal to have back pain after gallbladder surgery. Seriously, haven’t these people heard of the internet? The balloon dude’s nurse sent me to the surgeon’s nurse, who just so happened to be a really hot guy.

Here is one foolproof sign that I am now a middle-aged woman. When I was in my 20s I remember delivering an entire comedic monologue while I was out to dinner with some friends, over pizza at EZ’s, about how I hated that doctors were always wanting to see me naked. I have a cyst on my face. The doctor wants to see me naked. I have chigger bites. The doctor wants to see me naked. I have hives. The doctor wants to see me naked. What is up with that? Why do I ALWAYS have to be naked? My modesty was offended. But on the upside, that little rant is how I came to date Dr. Mark, who found it amusing.

I no longer have any sense of shame or modesty. And I haven’t even had a baby. Now I practically volunteer to strip in front of anyone who says he’s a medical professional. The dermatologist who removed my cyst was really, really cute. And I remember being embarrassed about that somehow. With the hot nurse, I no longer care. I’m flipping up my shirt for the whole world to see my scars. Yes, the back pain was normal and was from the gas they pumped me full of. Both the hot nurse and the surgeon poked at my abdomen and declared me healed, then helped me up off the examining table.

After my hospital trip that Tuesday I went to Lubbock’s and hung out, watching reruns of Little House on the Prairie on cable. It was my last day to play hookie. I was going to work on Wednesday. When she got off work I nuked a dinner I’d purchased from Wal-Mart earlier in the day, while I was waiting on my prescriptions to be filled, and we ate dinner together. I think we were watching another Charlie Sheen special on TV.

I said, “You know what I love about surgery?”

Lubbock said, “Pain medicine.”

“That, too. But I was thinking about the sense of accomplishment that you get.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that everyone gets excited about milestones that you first achieved when you were a baby. Like, look, Ma, I can walk and eat solid food and pee in the potty by myself. Just wait ‘til I have my first bowel movement after the surgery!”

“I think that’s too much information.”

March 30, 2011 at 10:44 pm 3 comments


After the uproar surrounding Sheen’s rant on Lorre, where he referred to Lorre as Chaim Levine, Sheen goes on a talk show to let us know that he’s not an anti-Semite. In fact, Sheen says he himself is Jewish, and he’s proud of that fact. His current wife and two of his children are Jewish as well. Sheen’s mother’s maiden name was Janet Templeton. I don’t know if that’s a common Jewish name or not since it doesn’t end in either “stein” or “berg.” Should I have just “known” this?

My Grandmother’s maiden name was Rider; does that mean I’m Jewish? Wynonna Ryder is Jewish. It wouldn’t bother me if I were Jewish, but the point is that I don’t know. Sheen did. Sheen’s a celebrity. Sheen’s said nothing all this time.

What I do know is that I’m not buying this “Jewish and proud of it” stance of his. I have to wonder, how come it is that someone who’s been famous for the last 30 years can have kept the American public in the dark as to his Jewish heritage if he is indeed, as he asserts, proud of it? Emilio is no different.

Scour the internet for hours. Look. You can find tons and tons of interviews with Martin and Emilio and Charlie, and no mention until this recent scandal, of the fact that the Sheen children are, in fact, by Rabbinic law, considered Jewish. You can even go on a website called Guess Who’s the Jew, and be told that Emilio Estevez is definitely not Jewish. So, how “proud” are they really? Just because Charlie Sheen is Jewish, does that mean that he isn’t or can’t be guilty of anti-Semitism?

In related news, Rush Limbaugh was recently called out for basically asserting that most of the American public don’t actually consider Barack Obama to be a black man. Normally, this is something I’d get all bent out of shape over, but I get what he means. He’s talking about the fact that Obama has a white mother and seems, more often than not, to fit our cultural stereotypes of behaviors consistent with that of a white man, not a black man.

Even some of the black people I know who have been most proud to see the United States elect its first black President have secretly told me that a “real” black man would never have been accepted as President by the American people. The implication here is an old one. Obama, like O.J. Simpson, and Oprah Winfrey before him, is being accused of being an “oreo.” Black on the outside, white on the inside.

It’s a funny observation, and it’s the opposite of the old 50s melodramas I watched on TV as a kid that used to reduce me to tears. I remember being enchanted and enthralled with two movies made about race relations during that time period. The first was the remake of, “Imitation of Life,” made with Lana Turner and Sandra Dee. In the movie, Lana Turner’s character, Lora, a single mother, crawls her way up off the streets to become a wealthy and successful Broadway actress.

Lora throws her lot in with a black housekeeper named Annie, who is herself a single mother, and the housekeeper agrees to keep both their children and provide a good home for them while Lora pursues her dream and eventually brings home the bacon. Annie and her daughter Sarah Jane are, to the outside world, hired help, but to Lora and Suzie, within the confines of their home, they are treated as family.

The widowed black housekeeper’s daughter is so light skinned that she can “pass” for white. As she grows up, aware of the prejudice around her, the housekeeper’s daughter becomes increasingly frustrated with the options available to her as a colored woman and decides to present herself to the world as a white woman.

As a teenager, she gets her first boyfriend (played by a young Troy Donahue in one of his first on-screen roles) and deceives him about her heritage until he finds out the truth and brutally confronts her on the street. Thereafter, Sarah Jane runs far away so that she can construct a new past for herself and so that any future bosses or boyfriends won’t be confronted with the reality that her mother is a black housekeeper.

It is only after it’s too late that she decides to return to her family, crying and screaming alongside her mother’s coffin. Annie dies young, and Lora throws her a grand funeral complete with horse drawn carriage, but by the time Sarah Jane finds out her mother was ill, it’s too late for her to reconcile with Annie. Juanita Moore, the woman who played the black housekeeper, Annie, was Oscar nominated for her performance of a mother who was most cruelly rejected but eternally loving and understanding.

The second movie that really made an impression on me was, “Band of Angels.” This movie starred Clark Gable, Yvonne de Carlo, Sydney Poitier, and Ephrem Zimbalist, Jr. In the movie, de Carlo portrays Amantha Starr, the spoiled daughter of a white plantation owner. Amantha’s mother died in childbirth, and it is always assumed that her mother was the mistress of the manor, but when her father dies while Amantha is attending a posh finishing school back East, Amantha finds out, instead, that her mother was a house slave, and that this makes her legally a slave. She is sold as just one more of her father’s possessions, in order to cover the debts of his estate.

Amantha is placed on an auction block in New Orleans, Louisiana and sold to the highest bidder. The highest bidder is a man named Hamish Bond, played by Gable. Gable buys Amantha and brings her to live in his plantation. Over time, it becomes clear that she’s there to become his mistress. He doesn’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do, and he feeds and clothes and cares for her well.

When Amantha discovers that Hamish used to be a slave trader, she is disgusted, and she runs away. However, what she doesn’t understand is that the majority of slaves Hamish Bond keeps on his plantation stay of their own free will, and he provides an exceedingly comfortable life for them in order to atone for his former sins. He purchased Amantha on the auction block in order to ensure that she wouldn’t be mistreated by a white man with less scruples than himself.

The movie is a pretty hokey romance, with Amantha running back to Hamish in the end after she discovers that her white pastor boyfriend (Zimbalist) doesn’t intend to marry her any longer now that he knows that her mother was a slave. Poitier’s character is a rebelling slave from Hamish’s plantation.

The thing that made the movie memorable for me was the dramatization that anyone could be a slave. Seeing Yvonne de Carlo get sold on an auction block had to have brought home the humanity of African Americans at a time when race relations were about to undergo radical changes. Brown v. Board of Education was decided in 1954. “Band of Angels” was released in 1957, and the “Imitation of Life” remake was released in 1959.

Prejudice is a funny thing. For instance, in America, anyway, there’s a perception of animosity between the Hispanic and African American communities, as well as between the African American and Jewish communities. One would think that this wouldn’t be the case. Who could understand better than the Hebrew people and African Americans the yoke of slavery? Wouldn’t this provide a common bond for them?

We white people tend to shake our heads in confusion and despair when we hear of this, but even we white people liberally sprinkle the term “poor white trash” on Caucasian people who display cultural traits generally attributed to other races. That’s when we don’t call them wiggers.

Minorities tend to sit in judgement of even their own kind with distinctions such as skin tone, with the lighter skin almost always being the universal “preference.” In the African American community this phenomenon is referred to as colorism. I just wonder when, if ever, we’re going to get to a time when none of this nonsense matters.

March 5, 2011 at 10:12 pm 2 comments

Anti-Semitism Rears Its Ugly Head…Again

Westborough Baptists Picketing a Jewish Commun...

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Four recent stories in the media are seemingly unconnected, but I beg to differ. I see a thread running through each.

Story #1: Charlie Sheen rants against the producer of Two and a Half Men, calling him Chaim Levine. Charles Levine is Chuck Lorre’s birth name, and, yes, he is Jewish. What it has to do with his disagreement with Sheen is precisely nothing. Sheen claims he’s not anti-Semitic, but I beg to differ.

If Sheen’s point is to call out Chuck Lorre on his hypocrisy with a name change to something less ethnic, then I think we need to see Charlie Sheen credited as Carlos Estevez from now on. Anybody wanna take a bet on whether or not that’s going to happen?

I think it’s strange that amongst the celebrities who have called to offer Sheen their support, Mel Gibson’s name is mentioned prominently. Do you think it’s because Mel understands the pain of being mislabeled as a Jew hater? No, I don’t, either.

Story #2: John Galliano is a fashion designer for the Dior house. He’s a British man who wears a strangely Hitleresque mustache. He was filmed making racist remarks against Jews in a French café.

Soon after this exchange hit the web, Natalie Portman, who is proudly of Jewish heritage and represents Dior, makes a public statement against Galliano. Dior fires him promptly thereafter, as they should have.

Story #3: At about the same time, Julian Assange makes a statement that Wikileaks is being attacked by a “Jewish conspiracy.” This is interesting, if only because it shows Julian Assange has a screw loose and that he’s also an anti-Semite. I find it interesting that the rape charges he’s facing are from two women in Sweden, where anti-Semitism is very much alive and well and perhaps even “trendy.”

The author Stieg Larsson spent a considerable part of his journalistic energies towards exposing neo-Nazis in his home country. Perhaps Assange’s comments are designed to prejudice a Swedish jury into being sympathetic towards him on rape charges. He didn’t rape anyone. Can’t you see it’s all just a Jewish conspiracy?

Story #4: The Roman Catholic Pope Benedict releases a book that reiterates the official position of the Roman Catholic Church since sometime in the 1960s. For the last half century, the official stance of the Roman Catholic Church has been that the Jews did not kill Jesus. Read my lips. The Jews did not kill Jesus. Jesus was not killed by the Jews.

Did you notice how repetitive that is? Good. Then you got my point. Why is this making the news right now? It’s not a controversial position. Unlike the Pope’s recent remarks about sexual activity and condoms, it’s nothing new.

I know that there are a lot of people who aren’t even anti-Semitic who get really tired of being reminded of the Holocaust. They deny the Holocaust or they downplay it or they simply don’t want to be burdened with having to remember something so unpleasant, something that didn’t happen to them, something they didn’t live through.

But it’s important to remember the Holocaust so that we don’t repeat it. Persecution of a race or a religion is nothing new. Prejudice is nothing new. But the inhumanity of men towards men that was displayed in the Holocaust is without parallel in human history.

Just as easily as the Jews can be made the scapegoats for the entire human race, so can blue eyed people or fat people or short people or any other arbitrary minority that we can hate. Remember that when you harbor prejudice and hatred for someone, when you repeat stereotypes or make so-called harmless jokes about the Pollacks, you are demeaning a whole class of people. You are opening the door for another Holocaust.

These four stories being on the heels of one another in the news is not entirely coincidental. People who believe in love and equality need to stand up and be heard. Westboro Baptist Church has a court-approved right to stand up and shout hatred. Stand up and shout love. I’m convinced that if everyone who believes racism and bigotry has no place in our world would stand up and shout that we’d drown out the voices of all these idiot Sheens, Gallianos, Gibsons, and Assanges. Make sure your voice is heard.

March 3, 2011 at 12:30 am 1 comment

Charlie Sheen Is Crazy

Charlie Sheen in March 2009

Image via Wikipedia

I’m still reading this Charlie Sheen crap, and I hate myself for doing it, but it’s like trying not to watch a train wreck going on in front of your eyes. I notice that there have been new interviews where Charlie calls himself a genius, asks for a 50% pay raise, says he’s Adonis, and that other people aren’t like him because they don’t have “tiger blood.”

He’s tired of people not recognizing how special he is. No doubt, this is a reaction to the AA term, “terminal uniqueness.” He knocks AA, and this is because they supposedly have only a 5% success rate. He says he cured himself with the power of his mind, because, apparently, that’s how Charlie rolls. I don’t know AA’s success rate, but…high or low, it’s the only treatment that’s successful. And it works if you work it. But you can’t quit going to meetings and quit working the steps and start drinking and using and expect for it to work by osmosis.

Charlie’s publicist has left him now, and it was really the only smart choice the man could possibly make. Otherwise, he looks like the twit who advised Charlie to spout off at the mouth in his current state.

Charlie won’t get help until he hits bottom, and maybe not even then. The problem is that if he’s talking like this and he is indeed sober, as he says he is, then he’s got bigger problems than just addiction. I read comments all over the internet where people have no compassion for this guy, and he is a selfish ass. But does it never occur to anyone but me that maybe, just maybe Charlie Sheen has some real mental illness beyond just drug addiction here. I mean, we’re talking about the kind of guy who thought the government conspired to cause 9/11…when he was sober.

I think Sheen needs a full psychiatric evaluation, not just a stay in some pampered resort for addicted celebrities. I think Sheen needs to be fired, permanently. Let’s not pussy foot around it. Fire his ass. Make him get help. And even though I think Charlie Sheen is acting like a tool, it’s just plain wrong to fail to have compassion for one of our fellow human beings, especially if he’s actually mentally ill. It’s not a choice. Why do we act like it is?

March 1, 2011 at 12:13 am 9 comments

He Felt Dead Inside - CBS Comedies Premiere Pa...

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Two and a Half Men is not a show that I regularly watch. I’ve maybe seen three episodes, if that. I like Jon Cryer. I like the kid on there, Angus Whatisface. I absolutely adore Conchata Ferrell and Holland Taylor. I think Charlie Sheen, undoubtedly, is a gifted actor. If you can inherit the acting gene, then he obviously got it from his dad. But Charlie Sheen is a tool. How much of his being a tool is genuinely Charlie and how much is his addiction? I don’t know. But he’s a tool just the same.

I’m not sure how he became a tool. His parents seem like such nice Catholic folks. His brother Emilio seems to have his head screwed on straight and his priorities right, and by all accounts is a nice guy. Even exes Demi Moore (they were engaged) and Paula Abdul never have anything mean to say about him and maintain friendships with him. So, what the hell happened to Charlie?

First, Charlie got caught partying in a New York City hotel room with a porn star who locked herself in the closet, while Denise Richards and his two young daughters were in the room next door. In a separate incident months later, Charlie had the ambulance called to his house and had to be hospitalized, for what the actor said was a hernia, but what many people suspect was a bout of pancreatitis. The producers of Two and a Half Men, and the network that it’s on, CBS, decided to enforce a sort of suspension in order for him to get his act together.

They gave him time to go to rehab and sort himself out. This is the second time he’s been given time to go to rehab in less than two years. The first was when he got probation for allegedly physically attacking his wife, while under the influence.

This has created some controversy, since it’s contended that the crew of his show are hurting while they miss the salaries they would normally receive, waiting for Charlie to get his act together. Charlie maintains that he doesn’t have a problem. He likes to party. He has the money to do so, and he shows up on time with his lines learned and delivers a good performance. He doesn’t think there’s any need to shut down the show, and he’s offered some of his own money in order to make up for the loss of salary on the part of the show’s crewmembers. So, maybe he’s not a big tool, just a little one. We could ask any hooker in L.A. and probably find out.

You know who else is a tool? Chuck Lorre. And CBS. Here’s the bottom line, guys. Shit or get off the pot. Charlie Sheen is an addict. Charlie Sheen is hurting himself more than he’s hurting anyone else. Here are the choices: either enforce sobriety and start testing him every day and requiring that he pass the pee test, and then fire his ass if he doesn’t, or continue to enable his behavior and look the other way.

It wouldn’t be the first time that an addict was placated, either in Hollywood or in real life. Sometimes people are so good at what they do that companies decide it’s worth putting up with a few hidden bottles around the office. I remember a job I had in college where one of my coworkers always smelled of alcohol, frequently took two and three hour lunches at the track, hid bottles of liquor in his desk drawers and the ceiling panels, and we all looked the other way and pretended not to see. Charlie Sheen is no different.

The available choices are clear. Take the high ground and say that you won’t put up with this self-destructive behavior, and that if he wants to work for the money that, if nothing else, buys his drugs, he’s going to have to be sober while he’s working. Or take the low road like you’ve been doing for the past eight years.

Let’s face it. Is there anyone on God’s green earth that doesn’t know what they’re getting into with Charlie Sheen…ahead of time? And do we honestly think that these people really didn’t know anything was going on with him?

There is no middle ground of a few weeks off for “home rehab.” This is bullshit. Charlie doesn’t think he has a problem, and giving him a few weeks off isn’t going to solve that dilemma.

You know what? If Charlie Sheen is actually capable of passing pee tests while the show is shooting and then partying during the off season, I would almost agree with him that he’s capable of using drugs recreationally. Not. But at least it would be holding him accountable. Most people in the real world can’t have the kinds of legal and personal problems Sheen’s been having and remain employed for this long. Charlie Sheen is damn lucky. He’s just too arrogant to see that.

Chuck Lorre writes vanity cards and displays them for a mere few seconds at the end of each of his shows. A recent vanity card on Two and a Half Men read:

“I exercise regularly. I eat moderate amounts of healthy food. I make sure to get plenty of rest. I see my doctor once a year and my dentist twice a year. I floss every night. I’ve had chest x-rays, cardio stress tests, EKG’s and colonoscopies. I see a psychologist and have a variety of hobbies to reduce stress. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t do drugs. I don’t have crazy, reckless sex with strangers.

If Charlie Sheen outlives me, I’m gonna be really pissed.”

That, indeed, may be how Lorre feels, but it’s a pretty shitty thing to do to put further spotlight on Sheen’s problems, and it’s pretty low. He may be hell to put up with, and he probably is, but Lorre is sort of kicking his golden calf while it’s down. Keep your feelings to yourself, Chuck Lorre, and show a little class and maturity by keeping your mouth shut.

Everyone puts up with Sheen’s behavior because his show is an entire industry in and of itself. It’s a little micro-economy that feeds many, many people. The powers that be are afraid that if Sheen goes, then so goes the show. And maybe that’s the case. Or maybe not. If Chuck Lorre is half the writer that I’m sure he thinks he is, then he can keep the cottage industry that is Two and Half Men afloat by bringing in another actor to replace him.

Sheen thinks that’s impossible. He thinks that Lorre’s writing stinks, and that he literally saves the show every week, all by himself. He doesn’t even give any credit to his fellow actors. What Charlie Sheen is forgetting is that no one is irreplaceable. I don’t care who the fuck you are. What was your last big TV gig before this one, Charlie? As I seem to recall, it was on Spin City, where you replaced the irreplaceable Michael J. Fox, and the show ran for another two years. And you aren’t fit to be a pimple on Michael J. Fox’s ass.

February 25, 2011 at 2:44 am 2 comments

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