(or should I be addressing you as The Vatican Assassin??)
I already wrote to you back in April last year, and much of what I said then still applies, however now that you’ve awoken the sleeping giant of CRAZY, I have an overwhelming urge to tell you how we – the public are interpreting your incoherent ramblings. (Tom Cruise makes sense compared to you). But let me start by offering some well known, well researched advice…. Three words Chuck.
DRUGS ARE BAD.
Now that I think about it, most of the letters I write that ‘I doubt I’ll be sending,’ are admonishing celebrities such as you to LAY OFF THE SUBSTANCE ABUSE. You are SO NOT rock and roll. You are so NOT Hugh Heffner. You are so NOT a warlock and you DON’T have tiger blood. Please close your mouth now.
You are a train wreck. Have been for a while. Except that while before your engine was partly damaged, your exterior was looking a bit worse for wear, and your electrical circuits were faulty… you somehow managed to stay on the track. But dude. You’ve rammed the train into an enormous ditch somewhere in bushland and there’s little chance of recovering any spare parts.
To make it clearer to you, here are some of your words of late with ABC News’ Andrea Canning in Los Angeles, followed by our interpretation of those words.
“I’m super-bitchin’and I don’t believe myself to be an addict.”
You’re a total addict. You’re in denial.
“[The drug I’m on is] called Charlie Sheen. It’s not available because if you try it once you will die. Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body.”
A million women; predominantly hookers, have both sampled and had in large doses some of ‘Charlie Sheen’ and I believe that although they may have no dignity, they still have their face.
“I’m underpaid right now. I’m tired of pretending like I’m not special. I’m tired of pretending like I’m not bitchin’, a total … rock star from Mars.”
Yes. You are EXTREMELY special. Not many people can boast that they got completely mocked by the hosts of both the Golden Globes AND the Oscars. Not many actors (except maybe the aforementioned Cruise) can dominate this much media interest from one interview. And yes. Although your father Martin is very much an earthling, and despite the cliché “Men are from Mars” you clearly have immortal powers because how else have you escaped prison?? Rock star? Find a guitar and start strumming because I’ve only ever seen you play piano.
“I’m sorry, man, but I’ve got magic. I’ve got poetry in my fingertips. Most of the time—and this includes naps—I’m an F-18, bro. And I will destroy you in the air. I will deploy my ordinance to the ground.”
You’re sorry? Don’t apologise Charlie. Obviously you’ve been watching Platoon again. Haven’t you? Remember it was a CHARACTER. Just a character. You were ACTING. It’s not REAL LIFE. Got it?
“There’s a new sheriff in town. And he has an army of assassins.”
There’s a new train wreck in Hollywood. And he has delusions of grandeur.
Guys, it’s right there in the thing, duh! We work for the Pope, we murder people. We’re Vatican assassins. How complicated can it be? What they’re not ready for is guys like you and I and Nails and all the other gnarly gnarlingtons in my life, that we are high priests, Vatican assassin warlocks. Boom. Print that, people. See where that goes.”
Put the crack pipe down and step away from the whiskey.
In response to your father’s suggestion that you need AA because addiction is a form of cancer:
“My conduct is bitchin’, my condition is perfect. OK, Pop — walk through a cancer ward right now and find any of those motherf***ers who look like me.”
You like that word bitchin’ a lot huh? Here’s a photo of you where you look pretty damn sick to me.
Explaining your new tattoo which says “Death From Above” across your chest, the slogan from your father’s film Apocalypse Now:
“It’s the banner from the death card that Kilgore [the Robert Duvall character] is throwing on his victims. But also falling from it is the apple from [poet Shel Silverstein‘s] ‘The Giving Tree.’ There’s my life. Deal with it. I’m not just my dad. I’m putting up the river to kill another part of me, which is Kurtz. I’m every character in between, save for that little weirdo with his guts strapped in, begging for water. That’s not me. But there are parts of me that are Dennis Hopper. ‘You have the right to kill me, but you do not have the right to judge me.’ Boom. That’s the whole movie. That’s life.”
The tattoo parlour should not be administering pain relief to customers who have been ‘banging seven gram rocks’ before arriving.
“Sean Penn was over at my house the other night and we had a few laughs.”
Sean Penn was over at your house the other night and you had a few lines.
On alcoholics anonymous:
It’s the work of sissies. The only thing I’m addicted to is winning. This bootleg cult, arrogantly referred to as Alcoholics Anonymous, reports a 5 percent success rate. My success rate is 100 percent. Do the math … another one of their mottoes is ‘Don’t be special, be one of us.’ Newsflash: I am special, and I will never be one of you! I have a disease? Bulls**t! I cured it with my brain, with my mind. I cured it, I’m done … you don’t look like you’re having a lot of fun. I’m gonna hang out with these two smoking hotties and fly privately around the world. It might be lonely up here but I sure like the view.
Newsflash: You have a disease. You’ve tried curing it with your brain, but because your brain is mostly in the end of your penis, your self-imposed treatment has failed. In reference to the ‘two smoking hotties…’ No Charlie. Denise Richards was a smoking hottie. Brooke Mueller was up there. Those two bimbozettes were being toilet trained when you were sampling Heidi Fleiss’s finest. They are NOT hot. One of them is barely what I would call ‘attractive’ but hey, beauty is in the eye of the man beholding his crack goggles. They are gold digging naïve young skanks who are being flown privately around the world, who LOVE LOVE LOVE your money, and don’t mind opening up their legs to get their hands on some of yours.
There. Translation complete. For now.
I can’t stress to you enough the importance of being sobre at this point. Oh… And silent.
I know you very recently opened a ‘twitter’ account. Shut that thing down right now. Before you get any more bats**t crazy. Like what the hell is this picture about? And why did you put the caption “Winner 2012?” You’re being ironic right?
It may be too late. I said to you before that we all love a bad boy with a high libido. But at no time did anybody say that they love a drug-infested porn-star junkie who has been watching too many sci-fi/war films.
Warlock? For real?
Just stop. Thanks mate.