Actor Charlie Sheen, 45, known for his roles in the acclaimed films Wall Street and Platoon, was arrested in October after an incident involving a porn star, damage to a hotel room, and an amount of cocaine presumably equal to or greater than his body weight.
Inexplicably, Sheen was released into the public after an observation period at the hospital, rather than doing hard time. Although he has prior offences on his records - including drug charges, assault convictions and Two And A Half Men - the judge saw fit to allow him to once again walk the streets.
Inexplicably, Sheen was released into the public after an observation period at the hospital, rather than doing hard time. Although he has prior offences on his records - including drug charges, assault convictions and Two And A Half Men - the judge saw fit to allow him to once again walk the streets.
This result can mean one of two things: we must seriously entertain the fact that Sheens is an elite special agent of the U.S. Government - employed to single handedly win the war on drugs by consuming the world's supply of narcotics himself, kind of like Jason Bourne crossed with a giant angry vacuum cleaner.
Or, alternatively, the judge was so swayed by Sheens' attitude, displayed in his own 'preventative' trip to rehab in February, that he deemed the gifted thespian to be on the right path to a clean, law-abiding lifestyle, and that the $7000 of hotel damage and terrified porn star were just like an occasional donut to somebody on a diet.
After an incident involving a petting zoo, a group of schoolchildren on excursion, and several bottles of tequila, I found myself court-ordered into the same rehab facility as Charlie, albeit a few days after he checked out. Moving into his old room, I found that he had left a small journal behind, chronicling his days in the facility. Below are some choice excerpts.
Day 1
I watched the entire first season of Oz in preparation for this place. One of the characters talks about asserting yourself so that nobody tries to make you their bitch, and today I sought out the biggest, meanest-looking inmate in the cafeteria and stabbed him in the kidney with a sharpened toothbrush.
So the afternoon was spent in the warden's office, where she explained to me that I'm not in a prison, I'm in a clinic, and that she's not a warden, but an administrator. This cleared up why the biggest, meanest guy in the joint was actually a nerdy-looking guy built like a bunch of mop handles taped together.
She also confiscated my tooth-sword. More than anything, it seemed to confuse her that I would make a weapon out of something like a toothbrush, when the cafeteria I was in was filled with metal knives, but whatever. Fuck that bitch; she wouldn't last two minutes in my world.
Day 2
I was walking past the front door when I ran into Wesley Snipes. He said he was trying to check in to get time taken off his prison sentence, but apparently Tax Evasion isn't something they can rehabilitate here. I laughed at him for a good five minutes before I forgot what I was laughing about. I did remember what it was later, and phoned him up to laugh at him some more, but I forgot who he was, so I just phoned Denise Richards and breathed really heavily down the line. The best part is that I called from one of the rehab phones, so her caller ID won't know shit.
Day 5
We had group therapy today, where we had to sit in a circle and take turns introducing ourselves to the rest of the group. These people seem awesome. From what they've said, they all love to party.
When it was my turn to introduce myself, I realised that I don't know what it is I checked in here for. Either sex, drugs, or drinking; but it can't be all three, can it? I had to fake my lines the whole time. "Hi, I'm Charlie, and I'm a *cough*aholic. It's been *cough* days since my last *cough*, and I feel *cough*.
Day 7
Group therapy again today. As a world-renowned comedic actor I felt it was my duty to bring some humour into proceedings. Here are some of the jokes I've made:
Guy talking: "I think the low point for me was when I'd come home at night so strung out that my wife would lock herself in the children's bedroom with them until I'd pass out on the sofa."
Me: "Sofa? But I barely know her!"
Girl talking: "Sometimes, I'd be so desperate for a fix that I'd go out to clubs and give guys head in the bathroom just for money to buy junk."
Me: "Sounds like you were getting enough 'junk' as it was! Get it? As in boners?"
Day 9
This place is shit. These people are all talk. They say about how they drink, like, four bottles of Jack Daniels a night, but I show up in their rooms with just two bottles and they freak the fuck out. Pussies.
Day 13
One of the cleaners found the homemade still in my room. I was fermenting apples I'd stolen from the lunch room into cider, with a bit of methylated spirits mixed in to speed the process along. The setup was made from a few bowls, a length of garden hose and one of my socks. The warden told me that if I want to drink this badly, why not just check out of the place and do it? Why was I even here? That really stumped me. Why did I come to this place? Because of the tax evasion? Whatever. I'm here now, and I'm in it for the long haul. Charlie Sheen ain't no quitter.
Day 14
My agent just called. I'm getting paid $1.88 million for every episode I do of Two And A Half Men. Filming starts as soon as I leave this place. So I decided to check out today. I'm very confident that all my demons are behind me now. The old Charlie is no more.
Or, alternatively, the judge was so swayed by Sheens' attitude, displayed in his own 'preventative' trip to rehab in February, that he deemed the gifted thespian to be on the right path to a clean, law-abiding lifestyle, and that the $7000 of hotel damage and terrified porn star were just like an occasional donut to somebody on a diet.
After an incident involving a petting zoo, a group of schoolchildren on excursion, and several bottles of tequila, I found myself court-ordered into the same rehab facility as Charlie, albeit a few days after he checked out. Moving into his old room, I found that he had left a small journal behind, chronicling his days in the facility. Below are some choice excerpts.
Day 1
I watched the entire first season of Oz in preparation for this place. One of the characters talks about asserting yourself so that nobody tries to make you their bitch, and today I sought out the biggest, meanest-looking inmate in the cafeteria and stabbed him in the kidney with a sharpened toothbrush.
So the afternoon was spent in the warden's office, where she explained to me that I'm not in a prison, I'm in a clinic, and that she's not a warden, but an administrator. This cleared up why the biggest, meanest guy in the joint was actually a nerdy-looking guy built like a bunch of mop handles taped together.
She also confiscated my tooth-sword. More than anything, it seemed to confuse her that I would make a weapon out of something like a toothbrush, when the cafeteria I was in was filled with metal knives, but whatever. Fuck that bitch; she wouldn't last two minutes in my world.
Day 2
I was walking past the front door when I ran into Wesley Snipes. He said he was trying to check in to get time taken off his prison sentence, but apparently Tax Evasion isn't something they can rehabilitate here. I laughed at him for a good five minutes before I forgot what I was laughing about. I did remember what it was later, and phoned him up to laugh at him some more, but I forgot who he was, so I just phoned Denise Richards and breathed really heavily down the line. The best part is that I called from one of the rehab phones, so her caller ID won't know shit.
Day 5
We had group therapy today, where we had to sit in a circle and take turns introducing ourselves to the rest of the group. These people seem awesome. From what they've said, they all love to party.
When it was my turn to introduce myself, I realised that I don't know what it is I checked in here for. Either sex, drugs, or drinking; but it can't be all three, can it? I had to fake my lines the whole time. "Hi, I'm Charlie, and I'm a *cough*aholic. It's been *cough* days since my last *cough*, and I feel *cough*.
Day 7
Group therapy again today. As a world-renowned comedic actor I felt it was my duty to bring some humour into proceedings. Here are some of the jokes I've made:
Guy talking: "I think the low point for me was when I'd come home at night so strung out that my wife would lock herself in the children's bedroom with them until I'd pass out on the sofa."
Me: "Sofa? But I barely know her!"
Girl talking: "Sometimes, I'd be so desperate for a fix that I'd go out to clubs and give guys head in the bathroom just for money to buy junk."
Me: "Sounds like you were getting enough 'junk' as it was! Get it? As in boners?"
Day 9
This place is shit. These people are all talk. They say about how they drink, like, four bottles of Jack Daniels a night, but I show up in their rooms with just two bottles and they freak the fuck out. Pussies.
Day 13
One of the cleaners found the homemade still in my room. I was fermenting apples I'd stolen from the lunch room into cider, with a bit of methylated spirits mixed in to speed the process along. The setup was made from a few bowls, a length of garden hose and one of my socks. The warden told me that if I want to drink this badly, why not just check out of the place and do it? Why was I even here? That really stumped me. Why did I come to this place? Because of the tax evasion? Whatever. I'm here now, and I'm in it for the long haul. Charlie Sheen ain't no quitter.
Day 14
My agent just called. I'm getting paid $1.88 million for every episode I do of Two And A Half Men. Filming starts as soon as I leave this place. So I decided to check out today. I'm very confident that all my demons are behind me now. The old Charlie is no more.
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