The thing that really perplexes almost anyone in possession of eyes, ears, a brain and puberty regarding the ‘phenomenon’ of Justin Bieber is actually what all the fuss is about in the first place. He possesses all the interest and faint repellence of a glass of tepid piss with a mop-top.

But wait! The ugly/interesting rumour of racism/anti-semitism rears its intriguing head! Thank God! (The Christian God, obviously.) It’ll be like Mel Gibson’s ‘sugar-tits’ thing all over again, launching Justin into a fascinating world of well-regarded glove-puppet-orientated indie films!

Oh. It wasn’t even him. It was his mum. Making him even lamer than previously imagined. You’re in it deep if – for all your bland, inoffensive marionette dancing, girlish singing, foolish hairstyles and overall disposability – your mother is more exciting than you are.

Yes, Bieber’s big break came courtesy of Scooter Braun, A JEWISH MAN, leading Bieber’s Christian mother Patricia Lynne Mallette to state

“God, I gave him to you. You could send me a Christian man, a Christian label! … you don’t want this Jewish kid to be Justin’s man, do you?”

As reported in the New York Times all the way back in 2009, indicating how long it takes for a simple trifle such as religious intolerance to be noticed, what with it hardly having any bearing on world events of late.

Justin Bieber’s position on the matter is unknown at time of publication.

Patricia Lynne Mallette is currently reported to be ‘looking funny’ at people with pronounced noses and running a mile if she sees any swarthy people carrying back-packs.

Remember when Mel Gibson was a Beaverless actor who wasn’t thought of as a racist, woman slapping basket case? Remember those days? Everyone liked him and he was the only famous Australian in the world.

Sadly for Mel, there’s loads of famous Australians who don’t terrify women and have buck-toothed rodents welded onto their arms now, leaving him looking pretty daft indeed.

And this is all thanks to his very public and incredibly messy split with Oksana Grigorieva. She’s so hurt by Gibbo’s fall from grace that she wants $500,000 for the trauma it has caused. Not her though. She’s fine. It’s the trauma caused to her 14-year-old son Sasha who everyone is mercilessly bullying thanks to being associated with two humans who give us all incredible amounts of ammunition, mercifully.

Naturally, like any divorce starring a wealthy human, there’s an incredibly expensive custody settlement being fought over, which involves the pair’s daughter Lucia. She’s a baby and hopefully doesn’t know that her parents are a tagteam of berks yet.

Oksana, who Gibson confessed to giving a right hander to, has made it pretty clear that she’ll need a lot of money to go away.

One of the reasons is that she’s claiming that Mel traumatised the boy during an impressively nasty fight in January, which ALLEGEDLY ended in violence. Oksana claims Gibson knocked two of her teeth out, while Mel says he slapped her because she was out of control and was endangering their baby.

It’s obvious that Gibson’s new partner – a plush Beaver – is responsible for the friction caused between the two, whispering sinister instructions into the actor’s ear, such as Gibson’s apparent wish for his ex wife to be “raped by a pack of niggers.”

Beaver experts have long stated that the tree chewing rat/table tennis bat hybrids are the most racist creatures on the planet.

Perhaps the beaver was responsible for Oksana’s claims that Gibbo was so horrifyingly abusive to Alexander that he would often hide under the bed, crying. Or indeed, the beaver could be behind the allegation that Mel once threw her son onto a table, quite possibly as a makeshift land-dam.

We should point out, so that lawyers with no sense of humour who may be sniffing around us (again), that Gibson has pleaded no-contest to a charge of battery against Oksana Grigorieva and is currently undergoing a year-long course in anger management and domestic violence counselling.

The beaver, meanwhile, is not, as they are not answerable to American law.

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Would you believe it! The new Mel Gibson movie, The Beaver, isn’t getting too great a reception, taking in a paltry £64,000 at the box office. Seriously. Charlie Sheen spends that on coke before he’s even had his breakfast.

And the producer of the film, Jodie Foster, can’t quite fathom what is to blame for the lukewarm response.

Could it be something to do with the fact that the public’s general consensus of Gibson is that he’s a wife-slapping, Jew-hating, N-bomb dropping nutter who is thoroughly dislikeable in every single way and that, perhaps she may have had more joy if she’d cast Robert Mugabe in the lead role? Well, this totally isn’t the case if you ask Foster.

Jodie says:

“[The Beaver]‘s designed to do something different. And very often Americans are not comfortable with [that].”

Aaaah! So it is the fault of American cinema audiences! It seems pretty obvious now! America really doesn’t like experimental film making do they? Like The Blair Witch Project. Like Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind. Like Memento.*

Americans HATED those films didn’t they?

Of course, Foster expects The Beaver to get a nicer reception from European audiences. Well, we are hugely xenophobic and knock our spouses about, so we don’t hate Gibson like those good, upstanding Americans do.

This comes on the back of Jodie’s mealy-mouthed reasons for casting Gibson in the first place.

“I think the first order of business is to say who’s the right actor for the role. And especially at this point I can’t think of anybody else but Mel. He was definitely the first on my list. He’s somebody that really understands how to handle humour and the lightness and the charm of the character, but also has a deep understanding of the struggles and that he would keep his feet firmly placed in the drama.”

Yes, yes, yes, but what about Mel’s personal problems (aka, him being more mental than a laughing haddock)? Unbelievably, Foster says that she had “no inkling” of these problems while they were shooting her movie, which means that Jodie Foster can now add the skill of being able to stick her entire head up her colon for months on end to her CV.

Well done you.

*Feel free to show yourself to be the hideous movie nerd that you are by disagreeing with the choices of films and proffering others which are more successful and out-there.

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Mel Gibson has had his Hollywood’s Most Mental crown well and truly pilfered from him by Charlie Sheen. However, that could all change as Mel Gibson stumbles toward the celebsphere once more.

While Charlie Sheen gets his PR company to buff up his unhingery, making him look increasingly like he’s doing a Joaquin Phoenix style Gonzo stunt, Gibson emerges again to look like the real deal.

While he’s been hidden away with a beaver on his arm, the echoes of Those Tapes rattling around his head and his legal team, Gibson has been preparing for Stage 3 of his ‘Look At Me!’ campaign (Stage 1 was to be an actor, Stage 2 was the whole ‘Jew’ business).

By now, every human on Earth has heard those lovely answering machine messages he left on the phone of his ex, Oksana. Initially, his fury probably focused on the fact he couldn’t ever quite remember how to spell her surname. Sadly, it quickly turned into a sweary rant and an alleged slap across her face.

However, there’s some that feel that Grigorieva is trying to extort money out of the Mad Max actor.

With that, he’s now apparently bouncing off the walls shouting about his intention to sue her for extortion if she even dares to slap him with some legal action.

It goes without saying that Oksana plans to file a lawsuit against Mad Mel, citing battery, emotional distress and defamation as her reasons for doing so.

This is where most famous people settle out of court.

Not our Mel. He’s prepared to toss his career into the sea and wage a massive legal war! This is going to get very ugly indeed and, worst of all, it will prompt dithering saps to meekly peer out of the woodwork and say “Think of the poor child caught up in all of this! WAAAAAA!”

Hey! Mel Gibson! Where have you been, eh? Since you sloped off the radar, Charlie Sheen has totally stolen all of your mentalist thunder. You’re looking decidedly lame at the moment. So lame in fact, that you might actually get some work again.

BUT WAIT!

What’s this then? You’ve gone and done something batdung stupid? Don’t tell us! You were found shouting slurs while dangling from a telephone pole by the elastic of your y-fronts? No? You’ve confessed to slapping Oksana Grigorieva? Silly, silly Mel Gibson.

Apparently, the best way to get one of them stupid women to come back to reality is to smack them across the face. Hopefully, with a beaver grafted onto it (yes, we hear that Mel Gibson has now had a live beaver surgically attached to him left arm, so that he can also ‘gnaw’ women back into the real world).

And according to various sources, Gibson is now about to be charged with domestic violence. To add insult to Gibson’s presumably injured hand, Oksana Grigorieva isn’t going to be charged with extortion either.

Good day at the office then, eh Mel?

Sadly for Mad Mel, he’s not been able to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that his ex tried to extort him out of $15 million so she’d keep Those Tapes secret. Y’know? Those tapes where Gibson cheerily wished Oksana a pleasant weekend getting “raped by a pack of niggers”.

It goes without saying that this is all far from clear-cut and could still go either way. Mel has said that he slapped Oksana because she was shaking baby Lucia like a cocktail.

TMZ have a bit of paper which says Gibson said:

“I slapped Oksana one time with an open hand in an attempt to bring her back to reality”

It isn’t clear whether Mel has been repeatedly slapping himself over and over in an attempt to get himself back to something resembling the real world. We’re betting his has. Because he’s a nutter. A massive, massive synapse failure on legs.

Gibson could well be charged with something called misdemeanor domestic violence, which could land him six months in jail.

And when do we get to laugh at the judge’s verdict, only to show immediate remorse when we realise that this is someone’s actual life we’re hooting at?

Two weeks.

Until then, we’ll snicker about the beaver getting visitation rights to go and see Mel Gibson sobbing in prison behind a perspex screen.

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Americans either have a sense of humour or, maybe, they just like the press they get from controversy (that could well explain Sarah Palin’s baffling rise in power). We say this because apparently, Ricky Gervais has been asked to host the Golden Globes again.

Of course, you’ll remember that he upset some humourless dullards with a series of jokes that made everyone else laugh.

Dry heaving while pretending to wank-off Hugh Hefner? That’s exactly the sort of thing that will see hecklerspray jumping to our collective feet for a standing ovation. Not to mention ripping celebrity Scientologists a new one.

While smart slebs laughed along (a particular doffing of the cap must go to Robert DeNiro who looked like he was going to shit his pants he was chortling so hard), the Hollywood press decided that they didn’t like some Limey turning up and tearing strips off their hallowed Hollywood.

They took great glee in assuming that he wouldn’t be asked back to the Golden Globes, probably giving Billy Crystal the sly thumbs-up for the gig.

What they didn’t reckon on was the Golden Globes fondness for the money that comes with increased interest over imagined worldwide outrage. The largely insignificant award ceremony became the talk of the town and, should Gervais get next year’s gig, it’ll probably be transmitted live all over the world while they encourage him to go in with studs showing.

This, in fact, could be a turning point for the Golden Globes as they turn it into a comedy roast instead of some backslapping event that no-one outside of LA give two hoots about.

Gervais said:

“I don’t know what I could do better. I certainly couldn’t get more press for them, that’s for sure. The response was staggering.”

“It was discussed on every news channel and chatshow for weeks.”

And now it’s rumoured that he’s going to be asked to host it again. However, we know that Gervais doesn’t like to tread water.

In fact, he’ll probably turn it down and they’ll get Sarah Silverman to do it and… well… she’s about as funny as a blazing school full of children (which isn’t funny at all, should you need the staggeringly obvious pointing out to you).

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Like we noted yesterday, America can occasionally forget what a sense of humour is, despite the fact they’ve produced some of the most acerbic comics in history and invented the notorious advent of the comedy roast.

Yet, when on the receiving end of abuse from a British comedian, they can get a bit huffy and wounded. The great big touchy soft shits.

This has left Ricky Gervais having to defend his studs-showing stint which he delivered while hosting the Golden Globes, even though he shouldn’t have to. Gervais came armed with jokes, not guns, eh America?

Of course, us Limeys pride ourselves on our innate sense of satire and constantly chide America for not understanding sarcasm properly… unless of course, Sarah Palin is a gigantic slab of satirical comedy and no-one has cracked up through their poker face yet. If that’s the case, well done America; you had us for a moment then.

Anyway, jokes aren’t as funny when you have to either explain them or justify them. However, such is the hissy-fit being thrown in some quarters, Gervais has taken to his blog to stick two fingers up and, essentially, to tell everyone to piss-off and grow-up.

He wrote:

“I enjoyed the Globes more this year. I think I had better gags. More along the lines of the Mel Gibson one last year”

And what about the rumours about him getting taken backstage to be shot/told off?

“Obviously the rumour that the organisers stopped me going out on stage for an hour is rubbish.”

“I did every link I was scheduled to do. The reason why the gaps were uneven is because when I got the rundown I was allowed to choose who I presented to.

“I obviously chose the spots that I had the best gags for. They couldn’t move around the order but I could move around however I wanted.”

So, not only is the very notion of joking being dissected, but now, we’re being shown the admin of an awards ceremony. Thanks America. Your lack of humour has dragged us all into a scheduling hell. In triplicate.

Gervais added:

“All the same conspiracy theories as last year too … ‘so and so was offended’ … ‘hasn’t been invited back yet’ … exactly the same as last time. ‘Paul McCartney was furious’ … no he wasn’t. And nor was Tim Allen and Tom Hanks. I was drinking with them after.”

So there you have it. The only people offended are those with no funny bone. And Scientologists. And people who thought Gervais wasn’t that funny and expected better.

Happy now? Good. Now shut your traps.

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The 68th annual Golden Globes happened last night and, once again, hecklerspray‘s invite was lost in the post despite having previous when it comes to getting hold of really pure cocaine for very competitive and good prices.

Maybe we have to pretend to be Scientologists or something? Either way, we weren’t there, which means we have to rely on hearsay and reports. Please note – the former doesn’t mean we got a text from Suzanne Shaw, now starring in Emmerdale.

Anyway, apart from the winners, which no-one really cares about, the big story of the show focused on the host, Ricky Gervais who reminded us all that, sometimes, Americans don’t understand humour. Or they don’t find English people funny. One of the two.

The ceremony was buzzing with questions as Gervais went missing for nearly an hour.Rumours abounded that, after going in for the jugular almost from the off, Ricky had been fired backstage by the bosses of the show. Some idiots even speculated that he’d been taken to a parking lot and shot through the face with a great big gun (not that America has a fixation and problem with guns. God no. Not them. Or Sarah Palin. Guns don’t kill people – the bullets that guns fire into human flesh, do).

Anyway, Gervais kicked things off by ravaging Charlie Sheen, Scientology, Mel Gibson, Lost and Hugh Hefner. He also introduced Bruce Willis as “Ashton Kutcher’s dad”. The wag. He also joked that he had to help president of the Hollywood Foreign Press Association, Philip Berk, to go to the toilet and “put his teeth back in”. We bet he was thrilled, especially as Gervais made jokes about them accepting bribes.

What did anyone expect? A nice, safe routine? Either way, what everyone got wasn’t too far from the level of comedic abuse you see at a Comedy Roast.

After pulling everyone’s noses, Gervais then vanished, leaving people to speculate about him being sacked or killed. Either would have been a good story to write this morning (in the case of the latter, a really brilliant story, once you’d got past the ‘tragedy’ element of it).

When Gervais returned to the fore, it was clear he wasn’t dead, however, observers muttered that he looked rather subdued, with the always pleasant and reasonable Piers Morgan (America – we’re sorry for him, okay?) noting that Gervais looked “haunted”.

So what did they do to him backstage? Suffice to say, whatever happened didn’t make Ricky Gervais laugh because, well, lets face it, if he did laugh, he would have woken the whole world up with it because, as you know, he’s got the loudest, most irritating chortle in the universe.

Either way, despite being rather funny (what? Praise from hecklerspray?), it certainly appears that Gervais won’t get a third stab at hosting the show. Next year, brace yourself for a routine from someone from the ever-appalling Big Bang Theory or something.

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‘Never trust a man with a beard’, states the old adage. This is particularly true of our listless editor, Mof Gimmers, who you can see here, modelling one of hecklerspray‘s wonderful t-shirts in the ‘spray bedsit. Unfortunate looking sod isn’t he?

Well, if you’d like to see him getting some hilarious plastic surgery, leaving him looking like Jocelyn Wildenstein, then start buying our many t-shirts. There’s Leslie Nielsen tributes, pandas and ponies, Beatle jokes and, of course, Dr Conrad Murray’s favourite shirt, ‘I Killed Michael Jackson’. AND MORE.

Click here to buy them.

Chandelier-hater, Charlie Sheen is going on a bender that could well match John Lennon’s three year ‘lost weekend’. The Beatle sellotaped tampons to his head and had month-long hangovers… but Sheen is hot on his heels with some most excellent debauchery.

Of course, the last we heard of Charlie was when he was holed-up in a hotel room, smashing the absolute crap out of everything while a porn actress cried, hiding in a laundry basket… while his wife was across the hall.

Naturally, everyone ‘worried’ for Sheen and muttered stuff about him going off the rails, while secretly being really jealous of all the fun he was clearly having. And it doesn’t appear that his quest for debasement has let up as Charlie Sheen continues to live the life of a particularly mad, randy king.

Initially, our Charlie was seen at The Palms hotel in Vegas, racking up loads of vodka which he promptly knocked back down his cackling gob. Everyone probably showed “deep concern” for his well-being while taking pictures of him with their smartphones and wondering if it would be crass to ask for an autograph.

All the while, Sheen did what all actors should do, and complained to the bar tender. Sheen’s been in Vegas since the weekend and moaned about how the cheeses behind ‘Two and a Half Men’ had been trying to poke him in the ribs ’til he buggered off to rehab.

Apparently, Warner Bros. have been mulling over this whole situation, trying to work out whether it would be better to have a healthy Charlie Sheen or, indeed, whether they should simply enjoy all this free publicity he’s getting for the show. After all, actors are replaceable.

While everyone was worried about the shooting of ‘Two and a Half Men’, Charlie Sheen thought it would be much more fun to hook-up with three porn stars instead. At the same time. Regardless of whether Sheen is completely batshit mental and broken in the brains, we have to applaud any man that even thinks he’s able to keep up with, not only three women, but three women who have sex with men with giant penises for a living.

Sheen is due on set of his (frankly rubbish) show this week, where presumably, he’ll have amazing bloodshot eyeballs, a shrivelled liver, a slight limp and a glowing red glans.

Good work Charlie. Don’t go dying on us. You’re too much fun to write about.

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When Mel Gibson isn’t (some of the following is alleged, okay lawyers?) running around with his arm stuck up a beaver’s rectum up to the watch or spewing out racist jibes to police officers, or indeed, punching the veneers from a woman’s mouth, he’s being a doting father.

Awww!

And since he went mental, he’s been trying to convince a judge that he’s very well and good in the mind and that he’d quite like to see his daughter because, y’know, he really likes her and loves her and all that hokey shit. And Judge Scott Gordon has given some big legal thumbs up.

Judge ‘Flash’ Gordon modified the existing custody agreement late Thursday, which means that Mel can now rock back and forth in his house while clutching his child to his chest and muttering about ‘that bitch’.

That is, of course, a reference to Oksana Grigorieva who is being accused of trying to milk Mel’s financial teat for as much money as she can get. Of course, if Those Tapes are the real-deal, then Mel really can’t complain because it has shown him to be a dick of gargantuan proportions.

Judge Gordon has given Mel more time with Lucia, but to be on the safe side, he’s not been given a whole load more time. This increase is measured by hours rather than days per week.

Mel and Oksana both have joint physical and legal custody of Lucia and Mel has visitation rights which total of 6 days (three of which are overnight visits) every two weeks. Lucia, the real victim in all of this (until, of course, she grows up to be a very wealthy, spoiled and warped teenager), is probably sick of the sight of both of them.

Oksana will be mightily pissed off with all this as she wanted to strip Mel of overnight visits altogether. Not surprising really because, for where we’re sat, he does appear to be fucking insane. She’s probably imagining some nightmare scenario where Gibson tries to convince his daughter that his beaver glove puppet is her new mother.

It’ll be a fun Christmas present-wise for the child as she is showered with gifts from both sides and, of course, we all know that presents equals love.

Let the bidding on Lucia’s heart commence!

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When Winona Ryder isn’t being a kleptomaniac all the time, she’s… well… not being doing much of note other than her job as actress. Mercifully, she’s stopped being pretty-but-dull to start thrashing around wildly and hurling insults at Mel Gibson. She should write for hecklerspray.

Winona reveals that she once had an encounter with Mel Gibson where the actor made offensive homophobic and anti-Semitic comments.

No real surprise there then.

Winona, who loads of thirtysomethings still fancy, recalls an encounter with the stark raving mentalist Gibson a few years ago at a party where he carried on like he was a horrible hybrid of Bernard Manning and Joan Rivers.

Winona, who happens to be a Jew, said:

“I remember, like, fifteen years ago, I was at one of those big Hollywood parties. And he was really drunk. I was with my friend, who’s gay. He made a really horrible gay joke.

“And somehow it came up that I was Jewish. He said something about ‘oven dodgers,’ but I didn’t get it. I’d never heard that before. It was just this weird, weird moment. I was like, ‘He’s anti-Semitic and he’s homophobic.’ No one believed me!”

Perhaps Mel Gibson should consider becoming a stand-up comedian, passing off his colourful views as being post-modern, like Frankie Boyle who is currently doing his best to set fire to his career by being the most pointlessly offensive person on the planet in the name of being free to make jokes about anything.

Of course, Winona isn’t perfect and pale. Aside from the whole shoplifting thing, where she stole 6000 spanners from a Kent B&Q, has struggled with prescription drugs.

In fairness to Winona, prescription drugs are incredibly tasty and moreish.

She slurred:

“I got really wiped out, and I had a semi-breakdown. I wasn’t sleeping, I didn’t know who I was because of different roles.

“Those things. I think they’re more powerful than people think. People think, ‘Oh, heroin’s the hardest,’ but pills can be…

“I broke my arm in two places. For about a month, I had to take it. But then I just kept taking it for, like… maybe three more weeks. But the thing I do remember is that once my arm was OK and they were still there, you kind of like… “

Like what? Gobble them down like a famished heron stood in a fish pond?

Still, better to be zoned out on tablets than getting recorded while ranting racial slurs and apparently punching Oksana Grigorieva’s teeth out, eh?

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Hey Mel Gibson! You’re as mad as a shoe filled with giggling fingers! You’ve said dodgy things to policemen, allegedly punched your ex-gal’s teeth out, left a series of unsavoury tapes lying around the place and generally shagged your career so hard that it is now hobbling around and bow-legged like John Wayne.

There must be some way you can make us forget about how insane you are? Maybe by going back to the thing that made you famous in the first place – acting?

What’s that? You’re reviving your career by starring in a film! Great news! What is to be? A dark-thriller where you draw on your personal demons and deliver a creepy, but powerful performance? What? It’s called The Beaver and it sees you getting kicked out of the marital home and going brain-wrong? Really?

That’s right. Gibson plays a chap called Walter Black who is despairingly lonely and abandoned by his family. So, his character does what any normal person would do, which is to communicate to the world via a puppet Beaver. With a rubbish British accent not unlike a bad Michael Caine impression.

If we’re to assume this film is vaguely believable, and that a broken man can find redemption by talking to everyone via a Beaver, then we can only hope that the line between reality and fiction is blurred and that somewhere, right now, Mel Gibson is talking to a lawyer about his court case with Oksana Grigorieva while dressed like Bernie Clifton as an ostrich.

Only without the expletives and racial slurs, eh?

The film is set to be released next spring, which coincidentally, will be timed just as courts look to resolve the custody battle that Gibson is currently embroiled in. There’s been delays on the release of the film for supposed reshoots, but mutterings from Tinseltown suggest that there’s been tension on set, probably from the other actors not wanting to work with Mel Gibson because he’s as mad as a talking hammer.

That’s not to mention the set-up of the film.

The film’s producers, apparently, don’t know what to do with this Jodie Foster-directed movie. How do you promote a film that stars a mad man playing the character of someone who is… er… crazy in the brains?

It’s worth pointing out (for legal reasons) that Gibson’s lawyers deny that he was ever violent towards Grigorieva and that she’s trying to blackmail money out of the actor. We know this because hecklerspray attended a press-conference about it all where Gibson’s lawyer relayed information to us via Keith Harris and Orville.

Anyway, if you think we’re making all this up, have a look at the trailer for the film. It’ll make you feel like the universe is folding in on itself.

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The Charlie Sheen roadshow has been a real hoot to report on, mainly because we get to imply that Sheen likes bullying inanimate objects. Anyway, this story was a fun, multi-layered affair which involved a watch, drugs, someone hiding under a soap dish and Sheen’s family ignoring his destructo-evening.

The crying girl in question, Capri Anderson, spoke out about Mental Charlie, managing to cram in accusations of racial slurs and noting that he may have tried to strangle her.

Well, Sheen isn’t having any of that. In fact, he now going to sue her just to ensure that every waking minute of his life is embroiled in some kind of drama.

So what is he suing her for? Well, like Mel Gibson, he’s going down the whole ‘extortion’ route.

Sheen’s suit (that’d be a reference to the legal term as opposed to the clothes in Sheen’s wardrobe) claims that Anderson asked for $1 million to keep her mouth shut and the story out of the press as well as alleging that she made off with a $165,000 watch from the New York hotel room.

Capri told Good Morning America:

“I never expected the night would unfold the way it did.”

“He definitely was growing more intense as the night grew and went on. It’s hard to say being that it was my first time hanging out with him if it was normal of his everyday behaviour or not. He seemed like a very egotistical person.”

Cuh! Imagine that! An actor with an ego! Whatever next? A singer who thinks they’re actually contributing something of note to the world other than something to whistle?

Anyway, Anderson’s complaint accused Sheen of harassment in the second degree. If Sheen is found guilty, the actor could face a whopping 15 days in jail. Plenty of time to write a moving account in your prison memoirs eh, Sheeny?

The day after the incident, which saw Sheen getting a psychiatric evaluation (the tests proved ‘inconclusive’ as they couldn’t find a brain at all),  Anderson was contacted by the actor via text message which offered her $20,000 for her silence. We can only assume that the TV show she appeared on offered her $20,001.

Acting as an escort, she saw Sheen back to his room… just to make sure he was okay you understand. Capri recalls…

“At this point he was fairly intoxicated”

“I was sitting on the edge of a coffee table and he was serving us both drinks and he was snorting something.”

Olbas oil? DON’T BE SO STUPID. Apparently is was

“a white powdery substance.”

She then ‘fessed…

“There was a little bit of romance, if you will.”

Romance! Is that what they call it in Hollywood?! Then, with her kit off, things took a turn for the weird.

“When I became really uncomfortable is when he put his hands around my neck.”

Then, when Anderson asked Sheen to let go of her, he got all kinds of angry.

“He started throwing things. He threw a lamp. That was the first thing he picked up. And he threw it across the room at me. When he started throwing things at me I became shocked, scared.”

Charlie Sheen’s lawyer Yale Galanter responded to Anderson’s allegations Sunday night in a statement to ABC News with a really cheap shot.

“Ms. Capri never made any allegation of wrongful conduct on the part of Mr. Sheen the night of the incident. She has posted on her website that she was ‘fine’ after the incident but if you wanted to see more of her enter the web site for money.”

“We will defend this lawsuit vigorously and will never pay her a dime. These allegations against Mr. Sheen are completely false, and are a blatant attempt to cash in on his celebrity.”

Capri Anderson said that Sheen was a bit of a potty mouth.

“He was calling me a whore a lot. And he was yelling things like, you F-ing bitch. If you don’t come out here, I’m going to kill you. If I get in there, you’re going to be sorry. If I get in there, you … whore, you whore, whore. Like he just keep screaming and slamming on the door”

Go on. Admit it. We will if you will. The whole thing sounds like a brilliantly trashy night out and you wish you were there or, at least, had the ability to go completely cowshit mental like that once in a while.

Just us then?

Ah.

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Charlie Sheen’s little chandelier-based tantrum, which of course, saw a woman cowering in a bathroom, thinking she was going to die, has been rather good value for money for scum like us. Most celebrities are secretive and well-behaved, but Sheen has excelled himself by beating up light fittings and generally going stir crazy.

And now, the woman in question – Capri Anderson (see our gallery of her here) – has spoken out about that night.

If what she says is correct, then things aren’t looking too good in Sheen’s peculiar little mind.

The adult-film actress was found trembling like a shitting dog at New York’s famed Plaza Hotel and found locked in the bathroom of Sheen’s suite, which had been trashed.

She tells ABC:

“He was, from the beginning of the night, very loud and he had no hesitations when it came to using derogatory language or cuss words… towards the latter half of the night, it got really bad. He started yelling racial slurs.”

Uh-oh.

“But it wasn’t until he put his hands around my neck that I really thought to myself, you have gotten yourself in a bad, bad situation.”

Double uh-oh.

She adds:

“I’m not going to stand down and be completely walked over, mistreated. My whole life has been changed.”

“I think that this story and this treatment sends a message in itself and this is clearly something that’s not right. It’s not right to hurt people. It’s not right to scare people. It’s not right to carry on with such disregard for the people around you.”

So what does Camp Sheen have to say on the matter?

Well, Charlie’s lawyer – Yale Galanter – released a statement in response to Anderson’s allegations.

“Ms. Capri never made any allegation of wrongful conduct on the part of Mr. Sheen the night of the incident. She has posted on her website that she was ‘fine’ after the incident but if you wanted to see more of her enter the web site for money”

“We will defend this lawsuit vigorously and will never pay her a dime. These allegations against Mr. Sheen are completely false, and are an blatant attempt to cash in on his celebrity.”

Zoinks. What a mess. A brilliantly fun mess for us to poke fun at!

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