There hasn't been a lack of comical instances in the news lately where someone wasn't showing off their ass (literally) in some drug induced state. Lindsay Lohan, Britney Spears...blah blah blah. It's getting to the point where I just want to personally put these people out of their miseries and speed up to January 1, 2008 where they will be little more than all the rest of the Gary Coleman's out there.
Don't get me wrong, I do find it fascinating. If only to make me feel superior (you know that's the reason you keep up with the gossip columns too). But how much is too much?
I grew up in a family where Wild Iris Rose was a staple.
I mean, there were more empty bottles of this stuff than milk cartons. And when the first of the month rolled around after an eternity and all the kids received some standard treat that couldn't be got all the time, the grownups were nowhere in sight. EVERYBODY had a vice back in the day. Everything from hard drugs, to liquor and even pills. All of the recent deaths in my family, besides my grandfather, was due to some substance abuse.
And I will not drink anything. Well, maybe those kool-aid flavored drinks like Arbor Mist on the holidays. And I do get tipsy. The funny part is though, I'm like a billion pounds. When I took health in college, I read that I could drink 3-4 alcholic beverages before even a slur would approach. I don't know, you figure it out. But anything brown, or clear like vodka I will not touch. I don't even smoke weed. And those in the black community know that's not even considered a drug. Well it is to me and the federal government! Besides, I don't have the kind of money it takes to live that kind of lifestyle (I go to college and am lucky to get a box of macaroni without cheese). I don't know how much a rock or one those vitaminy looking pills my cousin sells costs, but I think it's a lot. When all your furniture is given to the crack man, it's alot. I'm far too cheap for that shit. I'd rather get a house or buy some stock.
This is why I can understand how hard it is to break those habits. Crack was a bitch in the 80's. What I can't comprehend though is how these habits are got in the first place. Well I know, messed up childhoods and neglectful parenting and all those skeletons in those dark closets are not foreign to me. I've had bad experiences, very bad experiences. And I'm quite sure some of you do too. That's why I just can't swallow these reasons. It's not good enough. Sure, alchohol and drugs probably dull the pain. But you know what I do? Get therapy! Hell yes. Cause I won't be the one going through life sitting on a pity potty because of what happened to me.
So the next time one of you run into one of those infamous ladies who provide so, so much unwholesome entertainment, direct them to the nearest phychiatrist. Because we all know this time next year they will be has-beens rockin' around with Gary Coleman in his motel bathtub/hotub.
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