You may be surprised to learn this, but Crabbie has a romantic side. It's true. There's nothing he likes more than a long walk on the beach with someone he digs. Or a nice picnic in the grass. Or going for a bike-ride through the forest with the sun sparkling twixt the branches. Whiling away the hours with the lover of one's choice is what life is all about. Of course, when the lover of one's choice is a total junkie, that makes things a little different. Those walks on the beach aren't so fun when one of you can't manage a straight line. And the picnics lose their charm when your junkie man thinks the ants are under his skin. And forget about riding a bike. But, you love the guy, so you've got to find things you can do with him in spite of his condition. And after awhile just lying around the house becomes sort of a bore (plus the smell of piss gets so bad you can't stand it any more). You need to get out, and you need to get him out. And when your man is a total druggie there's only one place you can take him: Rehab. Where else are you going to go together? He can't keep his head up long enough to watch a movie, and eating isn't exactly high on either of your agendas, so dinner's out. No, rehab is the only romantic destination that matters for drug-monkeys and the people doomed to love them (unless they want to do the suicide pact thing and wind up at the bottom of a river together). Just ask Kate Moss and Pete Doherty - they know. Yesterday, the two wacky lovebirds checked into London's Capio Nightingale Hospital together, under assumed names. There, Pete will be able to get the help he so desperately needs, and Kate will be able to support him every second of the time. Doesn't it just make your heart go pitter-pat? Gosh, it'll be so much fun for them. Pete shitting and vomiting all over the place, and not being able to sleep, and kicking his legs compulsively, and Kate there holding his hand and he screaming at her that she's a bitch for doing this to him and he never loved her and she's nothing but a stinking whore. And then the begging. Just one more fix, baby. One more and I swear I'll never do it again. And then strapping old Pete to the bed so he doesn't injure himself. Ah, l'amour.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007