Saturday, March 12, 2011

The Grand Unified Theory of Charlie Sheen

Just so y'all know, I'm going to be That Guy. The one who's still saying "Winning!" six months from now, long after the joke is over and everything is just sad. Then again, I can't see how that's any worse than someone who says "gnarly gnarlingtons" in 2011, so there's that.

Here is what I think happened. Now, I'm not a psychiatrist, or an addiction specialist, or even a cut-rate Dr. Drew. But quite frankly that doesn't much matter anymore.

 I defeat earthworms with words. What higher medical standard are you looking for?

I think this is what happened: Charlie Sheen did something. I don't know if it was withdrawal or overdose or he just inhaled a big pile of powdered crazy, but he started going off on every media outlet with a collection of stream-of-consciousness yet oddly poetic rants. When he came down (or crawled up, depending on your perspective) he looked back and thought, "Gosh, there are a lot of catchphrases I've uttered in my vaguely coherent ramblings. That will sell a lot of mugs and T-Shirts!" And some enabler somewhere somehow convinced him that this lucrative business will be worth more than the cool two million he was pulling in on Two And A Half Men.

I'm also pretty convinced that he thinks he is getting paid per Twitter follower. I don't want to be the one who breaks it to him.

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