Celebrity ‘Sex Rehab’, or why we need reality show rehab
When Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew aired, I wondered why Dr. Drew was venturing into the realm of substance abuse instead of sticking with what made him famous: dispensing sex and love advice on his call-in show, Love Lines. This month, Dr. Drew reclaims his throne as the Oprah of American sex with the new reality show, Sex Rehab with Dr. Drew. And by reality, I mean the show features celebrities — though I use the term “celebrity” very loosely. Read the rest of this entry »




















I had a dream the other night that I was on a transatlantic flight on its way to Africa. I was sitting next to a man in a brown jacket, clown pants and Jesus sandals who kept repeating, “Down we go.” That should have given me a clue to the unfortunate end to my dream, or nightmare, but it didn’t. Suddenly, the no-smoking sign started flashing a blood-red color and the pilot got on the intercom and said something along the lines of, “We are going down, hold on to your fucking hats.” I couldn’t really make out what he said, but I’ve always thought that would be the best way to break the news to the passengers. If we’re going to die, I don’t want to hear, “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to bring an unfortunate situation to your attention. Blah, blah, blah.” Cut to the chase, man! Anyway, to make a long story short, we plummeted thousands of feet into an island and, magically, I was the only survivor. That is the point when I woke up. And for some batshit crazy reason, the first thing I thought of was an episode of
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