You know what’s Crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy!™
C H A R L I E * S H E E N
Charlie Sheen is either the craziest man in Hollywood or the best P.R. man on planet Earth.
After his highly watched, eagerly anticipated interview, it’s hard to know whether to root for him to get clean and sober or root for him to keep hitting the pipe so he melts like gum on a hot sewer grate in summer.
After a series of epic blunders and front page screw ups that include hookers and crack, 20/20 went to the Sheen-dog’s house and the Wild Thing ripped them a new one.
This one man wrecking crew unleashed a volley of insanity and machine gun wit, wisdom and verbosity that reminded me of an eminem rap song shot out of a bb gun.
I have not seen this much bull crap, real or imagined, since Charles Manson’s last parole hearing.
Charlie Sheen is the highest paid TV entertainer in the world, making 2 million dollars an episode. The news report chronicles parties past and present. It showcases hookers and dancers and porn stars. It documented torn up hotel rooms and crying ex wives and enough police reports to clog a paper shredder.
Charlie Sheen sat before the camera, his omnipresent cigarette burning in his fidgety hand.
He looked like a leather faced crack head and he spoke as if his tongue was hooked up to a car battery.
No matter what the reporter asked, no matter if it was about his drug use or his tirades with women or his two girlfriends, known as Charlie’s Angels, The Ma-Sheen had a lyrical, Dr. Seuss like, crazy quip for every question.
“I got poetry and magic in my fingertips,” he said as an answer to one query.
“I am an F-18, and I will destroy you in the air” he said chuckling through another.
When asked about his radio rants and public perception that he’s high as a kite, Sheen lashed back.
“I am on a drug? The drug is called Charlie Sheen. If you try it once your face will melt off and your child will weep over your melted body.”
Huh?
There was no time to absorb his lunatic fringe. He was working the camera, cigarette smoke swirling around him in a vespertine haze of lunacy.
Meanwhile, his newly formed Twitter account swelled like a roll of toilet paper in a pail of waste water.
“I live a bitchin rock star life. I love it violently and I defend it through violent hatred,” he said in a head scratching moment of crazy.
“Are you on any drugs right now?” the reporter asked repeatedly.
Sheen smiled.
The pause was short, but compared to his firing squad retort of anger, hostility and nonsensical banter, it was just enough to make you think he was going to spring out of the chair like a jack in the box.
“No,” he said casually. “I am a high priest, an assassin, a war lock. ”
Hold on there big fella. You can’t brush your teeth with hospital meds and not expect to hallucinate a little.
I loved this hour long meltdown. And there were some classic moments that made me laugh out loud.
Reporter: Will you take a drug test?
Sheen: You got a cup?
Fast and disarming. next question.
According to the report, he took the test half an hour later and passed. Of course he did.
In a world where most people speak in boring mono-syllabic drivel, Sheen fired ace after ace in a scorched Earth interview of screw you and who cares.
“The last time I took drugs? I was banging seven gram rocks! That is how I roll.”
That is how I roll!
Definitive. Aggressive. Catchy!
How do you survive?, the reporter warbled on.
“I am me. I am different. I have tiger blood!”
Tiger Blood. It was a Picasso of an answer. So Beautiful. So perfectly crazy. Tiger Blood says nothing but provokes such a powerful image you want to stop and inhale it like a bouquet of roses.
According to the 20/20 report; Sheen was smoking pot at 11
and stealing his dad’s credit card buying hookers at age 15.
Most of us were crapping our pants and taking driver’s ed at similar milestones in life.
Not Sheen, he is on a suicide mission that only he understands.
Sheen made me laugh loudest when the reporter commented on his two hot girlfriends, one of whom is a porn star.
Reporter: what do you do when you wake up?
Sheen: What don’t we do?
Exactly.
Sheen says what he thinks. He thinks he is lucky to be rich and have all the sex with all the women he wants all the time. And he doesn’t care what your morals or value system think about it. He considers himself a rock star.
Reporter: Why do you like porn stars?
Sheen: They are the best at what they do and I’m the best at what i do and it is on.
It was one part theater of the absurd, one part confessional, one part apology and one part social networking brilliance.
Will Charlie Sheen die? probably. Nobody can smoke 7 gram rocks of crack and not internally self combust. Not even top guns with tiger blood like the Ma-Sheen.
I will say this, if watching a human fall from grace and implode before our eyes is good TV, then this was a prime time super bowl of crazy.
I like a guy who can sit in the hot glare of the spot light and spew forth an amalgam of diatribe so far fetched that you turn off the TV scratching your head wondering if you just got a venereal disease from a news magazine.
And that is crazy.™