Carlos Me Pone Triste

Muy, muy triste.

Okay, I’ve been staying out of this because really?  It’s like kicking a puppy.  But that’s exactly why I now feel I must come out.

Deep breath… Here goes.

Despite all that’s happened, I still love Charlie Sheen.

Oye, Carlos, Carlos, Carlos.  Whatever happened to that sweet young man we all fell in love with, playing the thuggy “bad boy” in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?”  I cried REAL TEARS when you got shot in “Young Guns,” you know — cried in a MOVIE THEATRE no less!  Those ugly bitches living in your house simply CAN’T love you like I do… they weren’t even BORN then!

So here’s the plan:  You come and live with me and I will get you off the bad drugs and onto the ones that will make you not be crazy.  You can sleep on the couch and watch all the cable you want, as long as you don’t order any porn on the pay-per-view (I know how you are).

Seriously though, I will hear no shit about my man.  He just needs help, possibly of the mental variety, and we’re none of us in a position to throw stones there!  I am ready and willing to kick that Brooke Mueller’s ass, and I’ve wanted to punch Denise Richards in the neck since “Wild Things,” so she can shut her horse-toothed mouth, too.  And don’t get me started on the ugly-ass leech whores he’s got now… fuckin’ bring it, you skank bitches.  I’ll beat ya like your mama shoulda.  The HoodyHoo Celebrity Rehab program will become world famous, and CBS will have to cut me a check for fixing Charlie Sheen. 

Just one worry, though — if he tries any of that domestic violence shit with ME, I’mown knock his ass out.  All them movie dudes are midgets, anyway, so I can take him.



Filed under GENIUS!, La Vida Loca, SCIENCE!

12 responses to “Carlos Me Pone Triste

  1. I’ll admit to Charlie Sheen love. I hope your rehab center takes off. If you need someone for second shift, I can send my resume. I’m not a skank (usually) and it will give you break to go out for a latte or eat a sandwich.


  2. that’s good, I had been worried about what I’d do with him when I went to work. I think if you leave him alone, he tears the couch apart looking for coke…


  3. Never cared for him myself, but he certainly needs help. No fun at all watching someone come apart at the brain-seams due to drugs. Unfortunately, he’s a millionaire and not only will there be no “bottom” for him but there will never be a lack of people who will bring him his drugs. I wish the poor bastard luck…



  4. His dad is my favorite Sheen – though I love him enough to call him by his given name, Ramone Estivez…why wouldn’t you make THAT your stage name?!?


    • as a confirmed Charlie Sheen geek, I actually know the answer to that… back when ol’ Ramon started acting, people weren’t too fond of people with Mexican-sounding names (possibly a Cuba thing?), so he became Martin. I’m so pathetic.


  5. Dear Sweet Mama

    It is so sad. I would be willing to help with the rehab. I have regained my nursing skills and do one hell of a bed bath, if I do say so myself. Of course, my sister Susan doesn’t think so but since she is confused I told her I was my sister Nancy. Everything worked out.


  6. Haha! Everything of Charlie Sheen’s I just don’t think he’s being serious I think he’s playing it tongue in cheek, but there are times it looks like the cuckoo has truly left the nest.
    I’m going to blog about him soon too, I’ve added him on facebook (even though he has yet to ask me to come be one of his hoes) because he’s do gosh-darned funny and I’m constantly trying to work out if he means it or if he’s deadpanning.


  7. Ahh these people just start believing their own hype and before you know it they’re off their meds thinking they have tiger blood or shaving their heads. Someone will reel him in soon because he’s a cash cow, or he’ll simply fade as his money does, or he’ll implode as the public really wants him to do ( EVERYONE loves watching a car wreck explosion.)
    And yes, Charlie was hawt as hell. But that whole delusional- wide-open cocaine nostril- turkey neck interview ruined his chances of ever being on my imaginary boyfriend list. I know he’s heartbroken. Ha!


    • See, I think we can still fix him, he’s not so very old and once we get him off the coke his nose should calm down… the turkey neck may require one of those chin massagers they used to sell in the back of Parade magazine, though.


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