Charlie Sheen Is Baby Town Frolics

When the Charlie Sheen rant broke on Friday, I laughed. Listening to it a second time, it just made me really sad. Not because Two-and-a-Half Farts is off the air (for good? pleasepleasepleaseplease). I love schadenfruede as much as the next degenerate, but this was just too much. And, like the Giving Tree, it won’t ever stop:

After checking himself out of rehab, Sheen set up his own home rehab facility called “Sober Valley Lodge,” from which the principles of A.A. had been banned. “I will not believe that if I do something then I have to follow a certain path, because it was written nice,” he said. “It was written for normal people, people that aren’t special. People that don’t have tiger blood, you know, Adonis DNA.”

Wow. You know what? Sscrew it. I don’t feel bad anymore. Either Charlie Sheen is a Highlander, or he’s a robot from the future that runs on pure coke. Either way, pity, and other human emotions besides rage, will just slide off him like two five lines of sweet, sweet crank off a new pocket mirror.

And again, the title reference.

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