Last year Lindsay Lohan, Nicole Richie, Britney Spears & Co. introduced the world to the Five-Star-Hotel/Drug-Detox-Unit. Sadly, some of us knew all about such places already… Now, you can too!

Finally, Vh1 brings the dark voyeur’s wet dream to the airwaves with Celebrity Rehab.

Like the prescription drugs it aims to wean patients from, the show has a legitimate purpose (giving credibility to the rehabilitation process, at least according to Dr. Drew), but ends up being popular for unintended side-effects that are a whole lot more fun. Like watching porn stars attempt to bring in strap-ons, dildos and silicone “virtual vaginas”… as gifts for the other patients.

Some of the Contraband

Living in the spoiled rich kids’ mecca that is Orange County has allowed me to witness the otherwise unfathomable antics that occur regularly in the beach-side “recovery” (read: over-privileged druggie day-care) scene. To give you an idea of just how bad things get, a NIMBY grassroots organization called Concerned Citizens of Newport Beach has evolved. They are suing the city at this very moment, trying to take back their formerly pristine peninsula.

Yeah, good luck with that.

Suffice it to say that the only thing scarier than the garden variety junkie is the junkie with status and money– Lindsay Lohan, anyone?

Okay, maybe that was a bad example on the status part, but you get where I’m going, right?

Individuals who are raised with a grandiose sense of entitlement are far removed enough from reality as it is. They do not need drug problems.

Thus, it follows that when you put twenty of these types under one roof and add in a little drug withdrawal-induced bitchiness, you’re left with quite the pyrotechnic show!

Finally, the spoiled trust fund brats are contributing to society–maybe even the GNP?– by offering up a unique brand of entertainment!

Not that I’m getting all reverse high-and-mighty in a Justin Bobby-“I drive a ghetto El Camino so you won’t think my Daddy’s worth a gazillion dollars”- sort of way. In fact, I’ll admit to having been a limited beneficiary to a trust fund (but mine required me to go to law school, and then vanished once I graduated!). And I’m not going to pull a Bill Clinton and pretend to be a stranger to illegal substances. So I guess it’s fitting that I have what you may call friendships with some of the more benign aforementioned Trust-funder/Addict types. Though I like to think it’s only for voyeuristic purposes.*

*if you think I’m talking about you personally… present company excluded! (As always, of course.)

Two years ago in the summer season, one such friend of mine (a substance enthusiast I’ll call Didi, after a character from a Jay McInerney novel), checked into one such 5-star rehab here in the beach area (which is made up of Huntington, Newport and Laguna Beaches, for those keeping score). I looked forward to visiting her there because it offered up the chance to view what seemed like a bizarre art-house movie, where people acted in ways that were entirely opposite of what you’d expect based on their looks .

There were soccer moms with perfect hair, skin, teeth and such trying to figure out how to smuggle in their eating-disorder aids (i.e. laxatives); trophy-wife types getting busted for drinking from hairspray bottles, and even one crazy spoiled Newport Beach princess who had to show the nurses how to draw blood from the only good vein she had left… in her neck.

The setup’s inherent commercial possibilities did not go unnoticed; in fact, every time we spoke during her stay, DiDi said something like this:

Okay, so you know how everyone comes in here royally trashed? Because it’s like their last hurrah and everything? Obviously they know we’re going to be wasted when we sign our admission papers, so I just keep wondering if they snuck something into those papers granting them rights to use footage of us for a reality show? I know they have cameras in here– supposedly for security or whatever–and yeah, I was jacked up at the time but I know I saw the word ‘release’ in there more than once! Two of the other patients are working actors, you know. They keep saying how this would make great TV. And for once it’s not the meth talking– they’re clean!

It took quite the protracted effort on my part to talk Didi down from this seemingly ridiculous notion, which I did by citing confidentiality/HIPAA issues, and explaining all of the legitimate ways the word release could have been used. I hereby grant the institution the right to hospitalize me in the event that I try to kill myself was one that made total sense to her, BTW.

So you can imagine how I reacted to the promo for VH1’s Celebrity Rehab. Viewing it made me think I was the one on drugs–hallucinogens, to be precise. So much for the second ‘A’ in A.A./N.A., et. al.

But damn, did it look interesting! A trainwreck-o-phile’s dream come true! Complete with washed-up celebs from Vh1’s own d-list roster! Only this time, there would be a reason for the inclusion of has-been “celebrities” besides ‘this is Vh1 and we can’t afford big names’. If you need rehab, you probably have hit bottom (let’s hope– if not, it probably won’t work– you may not be desperate enough to change.)

Dr. Drew… Yes, Please!

The most surprising thing about this show, other than it’s existence in the first place, is the presence of Dr. Drew Pinsky.

Despite the fact that he’s appeared on Loveline, a radio call-in show with Adam Corolla for years now, Drew’s fairly well regarded in his chosen field of addiction. And Dr. Drew is certainly no Dr. Phil- he’s licensed in addiction medicine, for one thing. He is also a Professor at USC School of Medicine. Drew may be serious guy in a tie, but you can tell he’s got a fun, snarky side lurking beneath the surface. He’s that hot professor you had in college; the one you sooo wanted to seduce, but knew would turn you down until graduation day, because he’s a stand-up guy like that.

I’m not the only one who thinks he’s hot, BTW. As fellow vapid culturist-cum- blogger StinkyLuLu says:

..I’ve come to think of Dr. Drew as the illegitimate love child of Dr. Ruth and Dr. Joyce Brothers. Then, again, truth be told, sometimes I just like to think of Dr. Drew…that voice, that hair, that reasonable affect. Sanjay Gupta might be a bit hunkier, but Dr. Drew is the dreamiest. And, from the looks of things, the man has the patience of a saint…

Sadly, Dr. Drew may be the most recognizable face on the show. Some usual suspects from the Vh1 ‘celeb’-reality roster are there, of course. They include (clockwise, left to right:

• Brigitte Nielsen (who qualified by being drunk on Surreal Life)
• Jeff Conaway (who qualified by getting booted from Celebrity Fit Club for being too drugged up to work out)
• Daniel Baldwin (who qualified by demonstrating drug-induced rage/asshole-ism on Celebrity Fit Club– or was ity another marginally famous Baldwin?)
• Joanie Laurer aka Chyna the former pro wrestler (for qualifications, see Brigitte, above).

Oddly enough, Vern ‘Mini-Me’ Troyer and Janice ‘World’s First Self-Proclaimed Supermodel’ Dickenson were conspicuously absent from the lineup. Which can only mean one thing.

For some, denial is a force more powerful than fame-whoring.

Other cast-members you won’t recognize include:

Jessica Sierra, the former American Idol finalist (or so they say). Her mom was a hooker and druggie who died in some random dude’s backyard. Dead or no, Jessica loathes her mom for choosing the path she did. Alas, Jessica herself has become a druggie. And now, in the apparent interest of striking while the publicity iron is hot, Jessica Sierra has opted to follow in the great footsteps of our fearless vapid leaders Paris Hilton and Kim Kardashian by releasing a sex tape.

FYI: This is Jessica Sierra, not her mom.

I say, way to live down the family legacy there, Jess.

Rehab: Step in the right direction, away from becoming your drug addicted hooker mom.

Sex tape: step in the wrong direction, brings you closer to the hooker part.

One step forward, two steps back…

In addition to the aforementioned motley crüe, there’s Jaimee Foxworth, the child-star from ‘Family Matters’ (starring Urkel, character whose voice rivaled Fran Drescher’s in the contest for ‘most annoying’.)

Here’s Jaimee on Tyra…. and probably on pot, too.

The most recent dose of mainstream fame Jaimee has seen involved an appearance on Oprah, wherein she cried about having fallen into porn, or, more accurately, cried about getting recognized/busted for doing it. As if she thought she was getting paid to appear in a porno that wasn’t going to see the light of day? Sorry Jaimee, but that excuse only flies when explaining sex tapes (read: where your co-star is typically a boyfriend with whom you’ve had sex before, and is probably not a porn actor), the amateurish-quality of your porn films notwithstanding.

Oh, and Jaimee claims to be addicted to pot. Personally, I think she’s addicted to getting paid for appearing on camera, but I’m not an M.D. *

*Update: My BF, who is an M.D., agrees with me on this. And as a Pain Management Physician, he knows a thing or two about narcotic addiction, thank-you-very-much.

Mary Carey, Porn Star, Gubernatorial Candidate and Celebrity Rehabber

Speaking of porn, another one of the patients is none other than Porn Star and former Gubernatorial Candidate Mary Carey. Can you believe Arnold Schwarzenegger beat her? From loud farts to attempted strap-on smuggling, Mary has been a constant source of entertainment.

In addition to every skeevy dude with a mustache in the San Fernando Valley, Mary has slept with another patient, Seth AKA “Shifty” from the band Crazy Town. If you can overlook his crack addiction, mohawk, head-to-toe tatoos and questionable taste in sex partners, this guy seems to be the most decent man of the bunch. Not that there’s much competition.

The only other guy is some Ultimate Fighting Champion named Ricco Rodriguez. Think Rico Suave, but on steroids and without the slimy charm (ok, maybe keep the slime).

Ricco “Suave” Rodriguez shows off the muscles he uses when beating his girlfriend

This meathead actually believes his kid–the same kid who is currently in Child Protective Services’ custody– has gone unaffected by his drug use (and, by extension, his girlfriend-beating tendencies…not that he sees these things as problems. Which is, itself, the problem.) Apparently, the fact that the underlings at CPS won’t give him his kid is a problem though, because that’s why he claims to be in rehab. If he can solve the problem of the CPS staffers’ short-sightedness by going on TV and showing what a real stand-up guy he is, there will be no problem. Capiche?

It will be interesting to see what direction this show takes. If it is anything like real-life 5-star rehab, people will give up and/or get booted off of the proverbial island. Dr. Drew, the apparent voice of reason, gave a lecture in episode 1 where he said as much.

Still, with ratings, fledging careers and screen-time to worry about, expect no shortage of antics.

Not that this will be a problem– at the end of the day, it is rehab, after all.

Next time: Given the degree to which Reality shows rely on casting/character/story formulas, it’s hard to imagine that Vh1 departed from the usual methodology when casting, filming and editing Celebrity Rehab. Then again, it’s even harder to believe they’d stoop to the level of scripting things when people’s very lives are at stake. And it’s not like the set-up was bound to be lacking in drama. So what did they end up doing?

Because the world needs another reason to dislike Elizabeth Hasselbeck…

It’s official: I have joined the Hasselbeck-hating herd. That’d be Elizabeth Hasselbeck aka “Hasselbitch”, The View’s lone Republican.

This whole time, when everyone else was hating-on Elizabeth, I really wanted to like her. She is, after all, the panelist who most resembles moi, physically and demographically speaking. She’s young-ish, blonde, college-educated, fashion-obsessed, and unafraid to speak politics.

But that’s where the similarities end. Ideologically, I am most in line with a middle aged black comic who has been divorced 4 times. Whoopi Goldberg is my Sista! Who knew?

Still, make no mistake: it is not her narrow-minded view of Roe v. Wade that drove me to join the Hasselbeck-hating herd. Nor was it her insipid, literal-minded, overly judgmental stance on religion, education and/or values.

It was something far more important.

Today, as seen in the clip below, Hasselbitch’s sentiment left a taste in my mouth that no amount of Listerine will obliterate.

For those of you that didn’t watch the clip, I’ll sum it up as follows:

To everyone else’s horror (with the possible exception of Sherri “Is the world flat?” Shepherd), Hasselbitch squeals, “Guess who’s coming back you guys? New Kids on the Block!”

Without the smallest hint of facetiousness, mind you.To which Joy says, “You remind me of [your 2 year old daughter] Grace right now”. Among other things, verbal and otherwise.

If only I’d been around to really tell her how it is!

Among musicians bands err.. musical performers, NKOTB holds a special place in the darkest part of my soul. ‘Tis a place previously inhabited only by the likes of OJ Simpson and perhaps, a few sorority “sisters” from my college days (and you know who you are, backstabbing bitches!!).

This New Kids on the Block are the first “Formula Band” I was made aware of. Someone later pointed out that The Monkees came first, but in my mind, the New Kids will always be the first band to exist solely as the result of some creepy middle-aged pedophilic money-hungry puppeteer.

(Left) The New Kids on the Block… before they were old; (Right) Lou Perelman, The creepy, pedophilic con-artist Svengali behind later incarnations of NKOTB 98 Degrees, O-Town, N’Sync, et. al.

They cheapened the musical process, lowering artistic standards forever. Worst of all, they paved the way for the proliferation of boy bands, whose members’ only talents involve lip-syncing and dancing.

After the rise of NKOTB, boy bands went on to multiply like new strains of hepatitis. Meanwhile, countless numbers of genuinely talented, organic bands– possible modern-day Beatles equivalents–got dropped by their respective labels to make room for these musical caricatures, whose only genius lied in marketing. And the ability to lip-sync, perhaps.

Hell, even Eminem had substance!

All the while, kids growing up went unexposed to music created outside of a laboratory-type setting. Unless they were able to get their hands on non-mainstream magazines like The Face [R.I.P.], these kids never got to experience the solace that a teenager feels when reading the lyrics to a Smiths CD, or be wowed by the musical synergistic genius of, say, Daft Punk.

Growing up, I was alarmed sufficiently by this phenomenon to write a HS research paper on the topic. It read like a doom-and-gloom manifesto, and was titled something like New Kids on the Block Bring Death to Music and Culture.

In the paper, I predicted that the upcoming generation would be ruined by the diet of bubble-gum pseudo-pop they were ingesting. It was sugar for the soul, when what these kids really needed was some organic, unprocessed protein, like the modern day Beatles-equivalents the labels would later dump in favor of O-Town.

If we didn’t diversify the cultural diet being fed to these kids via the airwaves, I argued, their souls would fail to develop properly and would be forever scarred by malnutrition, like the poor kids in Africa.

They would grow idolize people with no talent, ’stars’ who were famous for nothing but fake tans and bad, bleached-out hair extensions.

Do you think I was on to something?

Yeah, me too.

Which is why I’m trying not to hate Hasslebeck so much. She can’t help it. She was raised on NKOTB.

Like she said to a disgusted Whoopi in the clip above:

“The New Kids on the Block are my generation’s Beatles”.

What the faux-bridesmaids were really thinking at the Katherine Heigl premiere for 27 Dresses

Spotted: this shot from the premiere of Katie H’s new movie. I think the only reason they made the faux-bridesmaids wear these heinous dresses was to visually separate them from the actual bridesmaids in Heigl’s recent wedding. Tell me these chicks don’t look like they’re straight out of the Mormon Church in Utah, where the real deal was held?

As the editors at the fabulous on-line magazine Jezebel know, a shot like this cries out for judgment. I’m going further in saying it deserves a full-on caption. So here, courtesy of commenter GOLDHOOPS and myself, is what I consider the best one:

Faux Bridesmaid 1: I’m going to kill my agent.

FBM2: Suck it up and remember you’re getting paid 250 bucks for this.

FBM3: I went to Yale Drama for this?!

FBM4: After the hours I spent selecting the right shade of lipstick, I hope it photographs well!

FBM5: My first gig! And they said I’d never make it in Hollywood– HA!

FBM6: I wonder if anyone will ask me for an autograph?

FBM 7: Can I put “Played Bridesmaid in 27 Dresses” on my acting resume after this?

FBM 8: Beats porn.

FBM 9: Wait, this isn’t The Wedding Slammer? I thought Jenna Jameson looked odd in that silver dress!

Told Ya So! Britney Not on Drugs, Just Crazy

Witness this picture of a smiling Britney, on her way to the hospital for a 72-hour mental health hold.

Now answer the following question:

Does Britney appear to be:

a. inappropriately happy because she’s under the influence of drugs?

b. inappropriately happy because she’s having a manic episode or is otherwise mental?

c. None of the above; she’s perfectly rational. Leave Britney alone!!

Answer: b.

That’s right bitches, I was correct. As the LAPD confirmed, Britney’s drug test at Cedar’s came back negative.

How embarrassing for the cops at the scene! They very publicly reported that Brit was under the influence of an”unknown substance” and now, they very publicly will be shown to have been wrong… unless you count her ‘unique brain chemistry’ as an unknown substance.

What I don’t understand is how these supposed experts could have come to such a misguided conclusion when I, a mere civilian who wasn’t even there, knew better?

Look at the picture again. Obviously she looks disheveled, but check out her eyes. They aren’t the crazy-eyes of someone on uppers like meth or coke, and they’re not red like those of someone who has smoked pot.

Yes, she was acting weird, but aren’t cops trained to recognize causes for strange behavior, besides drugs?

Still, for the sake of the kids,I almost wish that the test had come back positive, preferably for something hallucinogenic, because that would explain her reported behavior.

I read somewhere (TMZ?) that she locked herself in the bathroom with one of her kids and threatened murder-suicide. Hopefully this is a gross exaggeration, but in any case, she was not acting well.

If drugs had been the reason for her behavior, at least the effects would have worn off. Mental illness is much less predictable.

Ironically, drugs are exactly what Britney needs to get well. Lithium, to be exact. Perhaps Risperadol as well? Unfortunately she’s surrounded herself exclusively with ass-kissers who’re on her payroll and therefore unlikely to suggest anything that may piss her off, like pharmaceutical intervention.

I never thought I’d write this, but it’s too bad stage-mother-of-the-year Lynne Spears is out of the picture. If nothing else, she cares about Britney’s earning potential (she gets 15%), so she’d be likely to push Britney to take her meds.

Then again, Britney did cut Lynne out of her life recently– right after she started acting nutty. Who’s to say that’s not exactly what happened?

Jamie-Lynn & Britney Spears: The Real Story Behind the Trainwreck

There I was, all decked out in a little black dress at 2AM, pumping gas in Santa Monica. I think I was returning from a Holiday party. A group of teenage boys pulled up at the next pump, and shouted while pointing in my direction.

They said “Look, it’s Britney Spears!”

They presumably meant it as a compliment, as this was four years ago.

Even still, I was somewhat offended.

Not that I’m the world’s best judge of character or anything, but I always thought of Brit as trailer-trash. After all, you can take the girl out of white-trash-Louisiana, but you can’t take the trash out of the girl.

And now her sister, 16-year old Jamie-Lynn Spears, is pregnant! As one of the tabloids pointed out, teen pregnancy is more common in Louisiana than average.

Recent drama involving trainwrecks named Spears got me thinking, about how deceptive (albeit well-crafted) celebrities’ public personas are.

It makes sense, of course– celebrities do hire slick publicity firms for this very purpose.

But still, disasters arise when publicists do their jobs too well, by building an image for the celeb that’s at odds with who they really are.

The problem is, sooner or later, true colors shine through. The carefully created public facade gets cracked, and everyone acts as if it’s a huge shock.

Jamie-Lynn had her own show on Nickelodeon!

Britney was a Musketeer!

Lindsay Lohan was a Disney Star!

How could these girls end up arrested, drug-addicted and/or and pregnant?!

Easily and predictably, that’s how. All three of them are children of stage mothers. At the end of the day, they were kids allowed to run free in the very adult candy store that’s Hollywood.

They fell victim to a parenting style that kissed their collective asses in order to keep them happy (and allow Mom to keep collecting that 15% ‘Manager’s Fee’).

And now it looks as if Britney has really lost it.

As reported early Friday morning,

Police were called to Britney Spears’ home in a custodial dispute that lasted for nearly three hours before the intoxicated singer reportedly turned over her children to ex-husband Kevin Federline.

Aerial footage from local television stations showed Spears being lifted into an ambulance on a trolley. It was unclear where she was being taken.

[Officer Jason Lee said] Spears was under the influence of an unknown substance, and no injuries were reported.

The incident involved a family dispute that police worked to resolve “peacefully by court order”, he said.

An Associated Press photographer outside the gated community that includes Spears’ house saw six police cars, an ambulance and a fire engine enter around 10.30pm.

Spears and Federline are fighting over custody of their sons, two-year-old Sean Preston and one-year-old Jayden James.

Spears called in sick for a December 12 court-ordered deposition, but was photographed that day driving with a friend. She also didn’t show up for a session on Wednesday, Kaplan said.

Spears’ lawyers from the firm Trope and Trope on Wednesday filed a court motion asking to be relieved due to a “breakdown” in communication with their client.

Personally, I think the ‘unknown substance’ is unadulterated bad brain chemistry. After watching others with this condition, I think she’s severely Bipolar, because some of the crazed behavior she’s exhibited happened just prior to passing a drug test.

But at the root of her problems– losing her kids and now her lawyers– lies something unrelated to bad mental wiring.

She’s not used to hearing the word “no”. No one around her is allowed to tell her she’s off her rocker, or they’ll be replaced.

Ergo, not only is she acting insane, but she has no idea how bad she looks, because she’s surrounded by nothing but ass-kissers who are on her payroll.

As fun as these trainwrecks are to watch, this one makes me sad. One can only hope that US Magazine’s ‘Shame on Lynne Spears’ cover story has the effect of shaming other stage mothers, before they ruin their children’s lives.

Sadly, for the offspring of Dina Lohan and Lynne Spears, it’s probably too late.