She aint going back to work on Monday. (image via newsoftheworld)
The appropriately named Amy "Winehouse" took enough pharmaceuticals recently to take out a Shetland pony.
Fer realsies.
We emitted a low, spiralling whistle when we read the inventory of her intake. It even out us, at the height of our MidTwenties, to shame. We experienced in reading her catalogue what The Medievalists call an "an agenbyt of inwit." Rehab. Blowcaine -- it's a hell of a drug. From Newsoftheworld:
"When told her legion of fans were worried about her, she looked stunned and said: 'Are they? God, I'm OK. Really. I will be back to work on Monday. I have to.'
"Amy's life was saved by Blake, 25—who rushed her to London's University College Hospital A&E at 1am on Wednesday morning. There Amy was given an adrenaline shot.
"The young star, whose string of hits include Rehab and You Know I'm No Good, had smoked heroin, snorted cocaine, taken ecstasy pills and horse tranquilliser ketamine—washed down with whisky and vodka—during the London pub crawl that led to her collapse."
We of course wish Amy the best of luck but retain our sense of humor at the Surreality of Life and the fragility of ambitions even at the moment of one's greatest triumph.
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