The Canadian-born, Jewish-raised, childhood-actor, drug-addicted, never-married, reality-star drugwreck (thanks, Wikipedia) Corey Haim died last week.
Which is terribly sad, obviously.
But do you know what’s even more sad? Somebody knew it would happen and did nothing. What kind of heartless monster – who must have no human feelings and perhaps also a suspiciously shiny set of teeth – could have sat back and watched as the second most popular star of TV show The Two Coreys drugged himself into oblivion?
Let’s find out, shall we…Firstly, let’s take a peak inside the murky world of celebrity prescription drug abuse in Hollywood – the very thing that proved to be Corey Haim‘s sad undoing. We’ll bypass the likes of The New England Journal Of Medicine and The Lancet, and go straight to the real experts: E! Online. Here’s what Courtenay Semel, a ‘socialite’, revealed to them:
“It’s so easy. With Hollywood you have Dr. FeelGood and Dr. I’ll Give You Anything You Want, so to speak, and the problem is that’s what’s killing everyone.”
Look, we don’t have a medical degree. And we have no idea how the system qualifying physicians to prescribe controlled medications works.
But if we were in charge, then – call us crazy – when Dr I’ll Give You Anything You Want turned up and asked for a license to dish out uppers, downers, inners and outers… well, we’d have some serious questions to ask. The first of which would be, “What in holy hell were your parents thinking, Dr Want?“.
Okay, so Hollywood is kept high by a series of medical professionals with hilariously apt names. But who is the shady character playing the Three Witches in this modern-day Macbeth? Let’s once again consult the E! Online oracle:
Jeff Conaway says he saw Haim at a party hosted by Corey Feldman last year…”You’re gonna die, you know,” Conaway recalls telling him.
So Jeff Conaway, the American-born, childhood-actor, drug-addicted, once-married, reality-star drugwreck (thanks again, Wikipedia), knew a whole year ago that a man would, at some point in the future, die. And did screw-all about it. The heartless twunt.
It’s too late for poor Corey. But not, perhaps, for the rest of us. For humanitarian reasons, we have decided to ignore Jeff’s plea that his other predictions be kept secret. Here, exclusively, are his dire warnings for the year ahead:
Someone called Alfonso or possible Jeremiah will break their wrist. Or, as it may transpire, their collarbone. Also, the name may be a bit wrong, I’m not quite sure about that yet. So Keiths had better watch out, too.
And:
Woooohhh… I’m feeling that someone… an older lady… perhaps over the age of 65 years… will become a grandmother this year… Woooooohhh.
Oh, this too:
What’s that, spirits? It’s okay, take your time. A? mammal – characterised by its large body with stocky legs, long snout and plantigrade paws – will, by preference, drop its faeces within a forested area.
Ladies and gentlemen, Jeff Conaway has spoken (using his terrifyingly luminescent dental apparatus).
And so it shall come to pass.
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