I didn’t watch much of the Grammys last night, although I did catch Beyonce in an ill-fitting outfit and Tina Turner looking and sounding great, but as far as awards being handed out goes, not everyone was as pleased as Amy Winehouse was with her Grammy nominations, let alone her five wins.

Natalie Cole, singer and daughter of the late and great Nat King Cole had this to say about Amy’s recognition from the Grammys:

“”I don’t think she should have won. I think it sends a bad message to our young people who are trying to get into this business, the ones who are trying to do it right and really trying to keep themselves together. We have to stop rewarding bad behavior.”

I’m sorry. I think the girl is talented, gifted, but it’s not right for her to be able to have her cake and eat it too. She needs to get herself together.”

I mean, she could die. This isn’t something that’s cute and fun just to throw around in the press. The girl really has a problem, and I think for those of us who have been in the business long enough, we know the sacrifice it takes. This is about discipline and hard work, and you don’t get to just do your drugs and go onstage and get rewarded.”

I couldn’t agree more. In fact we had the same conversation in my house last night. Yes Amy is immensely talented and certainly under normal circumstances would deserve these nominations and recognition for her talent, but the recording industry as a whole (and the entertainment industry for that matter) needs to take a stand on all of this off-stage behavior.

Glorifying dangerous and excessive drug use sets a bad example to anyone who looks up to these young stars. As a mom, I find it reprehensible that my children are bombarded with images of
people like Amy Winehouse or Lindsay Lohan half in the bag or worse yet, ACTUALLY using illegal drugs on film.

They aren’t just irresponsible, apparently they are stupid as hell for allowing themselves to be filmed.

Hey, I am all for having a good time, but sucking off a crack pipe, dropping pills like tic tacs and then washing it down with Dewar’s isn’t fun, it’s reckless.

And Natalie should know, she’s had her brush with Dr. Feelgood.

This is for all of you wondering why Amy looked stoned out of her gourd at her husband’s hearing a few days ago. Simple, really…it’s because she’s a drug addict, and now there’s new video to support what we’ve been saying all along.

Video posted by The Sun in the UK show the singer smoking and snorting crack, snorting ecstasy, looking for her kitten (what??? A kitten in that mess? Well, I guess we can at least be thankful it isn’t a baby, but a poor defenseless kitten is bad enough), telling her sleazy friends she just popped six Valium (whatever doctor is prescribing those needs to seriously be brought up on charges), and saying she has to be up at 8AM to attend her husband’s hearing:

At one point, lank-haired Amy is warned to watch out for smashed glass on the floor as she scours a bedroom for her kitten barefoot.

The dazed and confused star accuses a guest of taking the pet from a quiet room into the drug-fuelled hubbub of her house party. [...]

Amy threw the party at her trendy home in the early hours of Friday — just before she went to court to support husband BLAKE FIELDER-CIVIL at a remand hearing.

Within seconds of greeting pals at the door, she greedily snorted powdered ecstasy offered on the corner of a credit card.

Minutes later, with her head swimming, she is seen on the video being offered cocaine.

A friend cautions her not to take too much because the drug is from a highly-concentrated stash.

But Amy disregards the warning and hungrily snorts a clump. [...]

Just before 5am, Amy heads up a spiral staircase to her dimly-lit bedroom, where she squats on her leopardskin print duvet and chats to scruffy pals as she primes a glass pipe with rocks of crack. [...]

The voice that has sold millions of records is transformed into a weak, breathless croak as she tries to talk. [...]

Pals ask her to go out with them, but she mutters: “I’d be useless to you because I’ve had about six Valium.”

Ironically, she insists she cannot party too heavily as she has to be up at 8am to get to the court on time.

So, there you have it. The Death of Amy Winehouse. Can’t she be brought up on some sort of charges for this? I mean, it’s all on video!

I don’t really know what to say here, because there’s not a lot one can say. You can’t force someone to see who willfully remains blind, you can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. What else do you do at this point?

And remember, Amy herself feels the same way:

The pop superstar admits to being a heavy drinker, and said she is a terrible drunk and insists that the legal stimulant is worse than injecting illegal drugs. [...]

“Drinking long-term is a lot worse than doing heroin. Alcohol’s a real poison.”

Although with her well-documented problems with drink and drugs, and her failure to address them, it’s clear Amy is not exactly the voice of reason.

And despite her terrible problems with drug and alcohol abuse, when it comes to rehab she still says no.

A newly bleached Amy said: “I’m of the school of thought where if you can’t sort something out for yourself then no one can help you,” she told a U.S. magazine.

It’s not too late for her to get help, but Amy seems hell-bent on destroying herself. Get a good look now, folks, because she probably won’t be around for long.

While I could not care less about what 2008 holds for Britney Spears, though I am hoping something between herpes of the face and losing her children permanently for being a selfish, uncaring pig rank high, I do care a fair amount about what happens to Amy Winehouse.

Because Amy, unlike Britney has A.) real talent, B.) a real problem. This is not to say I don’t still harbor some very serious anger towards Amy for throwing her life down the drain for a complete loser like her husband Blake Field-Civildouche (where do these hanger-ons come from?), I have empathy for her. Maybe my shriveled, whithered little heart has grown three sizes larger during this time of peace and giving, or perhaps, I really want to see Amy get her life together and triumph over her Blake/drug addiction.

In any case, my hopes may be dashed on the rocks as Amy faces new hurdles besides her depressive nature and a crippling drug and alcohol addiction.

While police were investigating her husband’s “grievous bodily harm” charges and subsequent witness bribery charges, (Blake and some pals beat up a bartender, and then tried to pay witnesses to change their story) authorities have concluded Amy may be involved. When bribery sums in the amount of $200K were being thrown around, cops must have figured the unemployable Blake couldn’t be the mastermind behind this plot. They started looking into computer and phone records of Amy’s — and low and behold — they found some corroborating evidence implicating the diminutive and troubled songstress.

“As soon as the figure of £200,000 emerged, the finger of suspicion started to point in her direction. How could Blake, who is not wealthy, be expected to come up with that kind of money? Police want to see where Amy’s money goes to. They will account for every penny.”

Amy was arrested in London today, though no charges have been filed. She later posted a $40K bail and is scheduled to appear in court on the matter in March.

Other rumors persist that Blake and Amy have a suicide pact should they be given stiff sentences for their involvement to “pervert” justice.

If found guilty of conspiracy to pervert the course of justice Amy could face life in prison. We can all imagine how well Amy will be taking that news. Amy canceled her entire tour due to stress over not seeing her Blakey - life sentence would be the final nail.

Can this get anymore overly dramatic? Did Shakespeare write some sort of previously unknown comedy/tragedy and Blake and Amy are punking us all? Is there a major gas leak in the entire country of Great Britain and only Amy and Blake have been affected?

This bums me out, because I see no hope for Amy. She has the “look.” That last time I saw that look was in October of 1993 at a Nirvana concert. Kurt Cobain was wearing it, and we all know how that turned out.

Does that title even make sense? It’s like a very “special” after school program or something.

HolyMoly is reporting repeat drug offender and Babyshambles member Pete Doherty was bitchslapped for refusing to buy drugs off of some local dealer. Here’s what they are saying happened:

The dealer reportedly said to him, “You should get your gear from me,” at the Sun Inn in Whiltshire before punching him in the face.

“It was horrible. Pete was really shaken up and upset. He had been enjoying a quiet pint on his own, just him and his cat, and went out to make a phone call.

“Pete has never seen this bloke before, he just attacked him for no reason.”

This is one of those stories that’s WAY too full of irony to be completely true. First of all, I have a hard time imagining Pete Doherty turning down drugs from any sort of shady cat, second of all, doesn’t Pete have a damn cell phone? I mean I know four-year olds with cell phones. Are you telling me international drug sniffers like Doherty can’t get a cell plan (do they call them telly-plans in the UK)?

And thirdly, what’s up with the cat? Is this the same cat he gets high on crack for fun? ‘Cuz I’d have thought that cat would either be dead, whoring itself out for some rocks, or wised up and run away?

Must be one of those 80’s new-wave “Stray Cats” looking for a fight.

Well, here’s one for Pete’s pussy:

That’s not a metaphor, that sadly folks, is the truth. Amy Winehouse either has taken to snorting powdered sugar, which considering this is the season of baking is possible, or she’s been wharfing huge rails of coke.

The above pic (more here) was taken while Amy was out and about London last night. Mr.Paparazzi also has a very *interesting* picture of the back of Amy’s car. There was a very suspicious looking bag of white powdery substance just sitting there in her trunk. Again, it could be powdered sugar for all those cookies Amy’s been baking, then again Amy doesn’t bake, unless braincells count — so what on earth could it be?

Save your guesses, because it doesn’t matter. What does matter is Amy is slowly quickly destroying her life and doesn’t seem to give a crap. So, guess what, neither do I. No more molly-coddling this dumbass. If you want to destroy your life, break your fans hearts, cheapen your talent and be an all-around drug-addled douchebag, go for it. I am sick of feeling sorry for you. Your husband Blake’s a scofflaw, a loser and ultimately a scumbag. You are an idiot. Please stop feeling sorry for yourself and shoving crap up your nose or in your veins. Better yet, do us all a favor and wharf that whole bag of coke, cook up a big old heaping spoonful of heroin and chase it down with a bottle of cheap vodka, ya know why? ‘Cuz you suck.

At least Billy Holiday had the decency to not walk around flaunting her addiction, or Ray Charles, or Johnny Cash for that matter. What is it Amy, are you trying to romanticize your life by going out the way of your so called peers? Trust me, as they look down at you from heaven they are shaking their heads in mutual disgust at your pathetic life. Shame on you and the crappy example you’ve set for your fans, and any young person who might have looked up to you for your talent. Disgusting.

(Editor’s note: To those who are all in twitter over my post, save your insipid vitriol - because I don’t care. This is my opinion, you don’t like what I have to say about worthless junkies who sh*t all over their talent, go barf your nonsense all over some other site.)

Heaven only knows if this is true, but rumors abound that Britney Spears is pregnant again. Hell why not, she did a great job the first two times. Total success I say.

The always accurate, never false InTouch Magazine’s lead story this week is Brit-Brit is preggo with JR Rotem’s baby. They are citing email exchanges with her friends as the damning proof of her fertility, which are said to contain ultra-sounds. Apparently, JR Rotem, that fat-faced producer scum she was hanging out with is the father. InTouch says he admits it. Well, you know what they say, admitting you have a problem is half the battle. And if Britney’s pregnant, we have a problem.

“It’s true,” he says. On November 16, she proudly e-mailed a copy of the ultrasound to her inner circle. For all her recent troubles, she seems convinced that having another baby will turn her life around — and she believes that J.R. will make a great father, even though he explicitly talked about their sex life in Blender magazine earlier this year. “Britney’s not looking for another husband,” an insider says. “But she does like having a man in her life.”

Seriously, if this is true, and it could go 50/50 either way, this would be an act of terrorism against responsibility. It would be on scale with some of the worst atrocities known to mankind. The UN Council on Domestic Responsibility is having a special meeting at this very moment to decide how to react if this is true. I have it on good authority that the National Guard is standing by with authorization of the leaders of the free world to deal with this event using the most extreme measures.

The potential magnitude of this horror can not be underestimated. We all must brace ourselves for the worst.

Apparently, over fifty years of refuted clinical scientific data means nothing when you are a celebrity. Clearly having a healthy baby means nothing to certain celebs either.

An article in the New York Post states a very pregnant Nicole Richie has been seen smoking on at least two occasions. Of course we can only imagine what she does when people aren’t around to catch her in the act. Ts, tsk, I really had hoped she’d have better sense. Then again, she’s probably prepping her body for that post-baby weight-loss diet of ciggies and diet Red Bull. You can never be too thin, too rich or too stupid in Hollywood.

Cindy Adams says:

MOMMY-to-be Nicole Richie. 3:30 p.m. Pony tail, black jeans, waistcoat. Exits DaSilvano with one young girl, one middle-age lady. On the sidewalk, after checking who’s at which outdoor tables, she lights up. They jump into a waiting black Caddy Escalade, Nicole into the front seat. Still smoking.

Three days later, 7:30 p.m., Nobu. For somebody who doesn’t eat, she sure frequents lots of restaurants. She’s there with the baby in the bun’s father. They leave. Outside she lights up again.

Now, two cigarettes doesn’t necessarily equal a premature baby, a baby with asthma, an underweight baby or any other host of issues that smoking while pregnant can cause. But it doesn’t help either. I won’t get into the various degrees of how gross and unhealthy smoking is for an adult, because by now, we all know the dangers of smoking.

But to expose your unborn child to any needless toxins shows a real lack of maternal instincts, a vast degree of selfishness and absolutely ZERO discipline.

Whatever, chances were pretty good her baby is already at a major disadvantage anyway, just look at the parents.

 

For years, Kate Moss and Pete Doherty were on again, off again, on again, off again.  They rocked together, drugged together, did horrible videos together, and generally screwed up each others lives whether they were a couple or not.  Stints in rehab, threats of jail, overdoses, nothing could keep these two apart.

Until recently.  Kate, tired of the drama, took up with another guy, rocker Jamie Hince, and Pete trotted down the road to rehab, a path worn bare by his continual and repeated trips there.  Now, there is news that Pete is clean and has become engaged to his new bird, model Irina Lazareanu.

Thing is, they became engaged only after model Kate announced her own “engagement” to her new man.  [cue dramatic music]

But wait, there’s more…

It’s been so long since we had a fresh dose of the world’s dumbest celebutard, but lest ye think she has been curing cancer or solving the world’s energy crisis, rest assured, she hasn’t. In fact, Paris has been doing what Paris does best, selling her essence in the form of consumable goods — in this case more perfume.

This time, her eau de twatlett is called “Can-Can.” Probably because it’s good for clearing the air when you’ve stunk up the can. Seriously, who names a fragrance after something that’s also referred to as a toilet. I can hear it now….

Passerby: “Paris what is that smell?”

Paris: “Oh, you like that, it’s my new fragrance Can-Can”

Passerby: “Your new what?”

Paris: “My new fragrance, it’s called Can-Can. Do you like it?”

Passerby: “Well, if you were going for “truck-stop bathroom after an obese trucker just released his morning constitutional of huevos rancheros with extra jalapenos and cheese” yeah, I like it. It will always remind me of you. You and a hot porta-potty at Lollapalooza!”

Paris: “That’s hot!”

Paris claims to have been inspired by Moulin Rouge, which is appropriate because when I think of Paris, I think of garish strippers, tramps and trollops whoring it up in France. Sort of like the behind-the-scenes photo shoot featured above.

Also, what’s with Paris’ voice? Are her tranny hormones acting up, because she can’t seem to keep in character.

Source - The always in character Dlisted.

Rapper Foxy Brown, who was sentenced to one year in the slammer for violating her probation on charges related to an assault on two manicurists back in 2003, is now stating that she is NOT pregnant, despite a courtroom proclamation to the contrary.

Foxy’s (aka Inga Marchand) rep released a statement. From the article:

In August, defense lawyers told the court that Brown was three months pregnant. But in a statement released Wednesday, her manager, Chaz Williams, said: “And to the pregnancy rumors, this is the official statement: She is not pregnant.”

Well, well, well, isn’t that SPECIAL. Foxy and her crack team of lawyers (yes, they’re on crack) must have cooked up that scam when they saw how well Nicole Richie was treated when revelations of her impeding pregnancy were revealed. The only difference is Nicole doesn’t go around ripping out weaves and busting acrylics on people’s faces. Judges can over look personal indiscretions and victimless crimes — but they generally frown upon violent outbursts that keep occurring. Foxy’s most recent fray occurred last month in Brooklyn, when she hit a women with her cell phone during an argument over the volume of music coming from Foxy’s vehicle.

You might recall that Foxy was also arrested earlier this year for a another fight which broke out in Florida at a beauty supply store. Girlfriend has some issues I’d say.

Worry not rap fans, Foxy isn’t letting this little set back keep her down. In addition to revelations of her non-existent pregnancy (no explanation given, and none needed) Foxy’s record label have announced that despite her lock-down, Foxy has a new album and it will be released while she’s in the slammer.

Brown herself didn’t address the issue of pregnancy in her statement about her new album, “Brooklyn’s Don Diva,” which is set for release Nov. 20. Her new single, “Don’t Surrender,” will be released to radio stations Thursday, Giovanna Melchiorre, a representative for the independent Koch Records, said.

Foxy released an uplifting statement about her incarceration:

“This is just a temporary situation,” Brown said in a statement. “I made my bed and have no problem lying in it. My will is steady. What doesn’t kill me will only make me stronger.”

Is Foxy channeling her inner Kanye? It only makes sense, considering her manager chose to channel his inner Outkast with this statment:

Before Friday’s hearing began, Brown asked Criminal Court Judge Melissa Jackson for a second chance and promised to straighten out her life. But Jackson didn’t budge.

“I’m not going to give you any more chances,” she told Brown.

Williams downplayed the ruling.

“I’m sorry Miss Jackson, we’re not impressed, and definitely not stopping musically,” he said.

I love when supposed professional people use humor to diffuse a situation. It’s so…well, professional.

Anyway, Foxy’s got some serious street cred. Unlike many of her male contemporaries, Foxy’s actually living the dream of ghetto life. She’s like some kind of hood hero. A crazy, unhinged, violent hero!