And sports books. And young teens. Of both sexes.

Bear with me. I usually don’t do entertainment posts.

Noted September 11th historian Charlie Sheen is in a bit of legal trouble as the lurid details from the divorce declaration of his estranged intellectual juggs’r'naut Denise Richards have forcibly penetrated the still warm, inviting pipe of The Smoking Gun:

I met the Respondent in June of 2000. I started dating him in 2001. When I started dating him, I knew that the Respondent had a history of abusing drugs, cocaine and alcohol, and also was known to hire prostitutes. The Respondent assured me that he was sober and and that he had never been with prostitutes sober…

Now I’m torn between recognizing Richards’ riveting retardation at marrying Sheen in the first place knowing all of this on the front end. Or whether she meant that Sheen was sober or that the prostitutes were.

After beleaguering Sheen’s extramarital relationship with Lady Luck and the other love of his life, Zanex (sic), she announces that parenthood loomed in the cards and that it struck this unlikely Dad-To-Be like a 7-2 off suit when he needed – come on, come on, come on – two coathangers on the flop!

Richards went on to claim that Sheen told her that he “was not attracted to her” when she was pregnant and urged her to have an abortion (for what would be a tragic loss to future generations of B-Movie fans). When the ultrasound came back that they needed pink baby blankets, Sheen snapped.

No doubt bewildered by a volatile mixture of Zanex (sic), Ativan and the unfamiliar feeling of not being excited at the thought of having an underage girl in his house.

After the birth, Sheen temporarily sat at the grown-up’s table and didn’t eat the placenta but did posit some thoughts on breast-feeding:

Respondent again became verbally abusive toward me when I stopped breast-feeding. He was very angry that I stopped breast-feeding the baby and switched to formula because he said that he “heard” that by my stopping breast-feeding, and giving our daughter formula, that the formula would cause our daughter to develop brain damage or would cause her to become mentally retarded.

Sure. Blame Similac. Finally, an excuse to deflect attention away from the dreaded Sheen-Estevez-Diamond-Phillips gene.

But breast-feeding be damned, this latest entry into the Father of The Year category, who wanted to abort the child, finally takes interest at booster shots time.

You Gotta Get Your Dip-Tet:

“Then, when I took Sam to get her infant shots, Respondent told me that “I poisoned our daughter” and berated me and told me that I was a bad mother, The day that I took Sam for her shots, the Respondent called me when he found out and threatened to kill me.”

In addition to throwing around various objects, Platoon started having flashbacks and began leaving threatening voicemails to the doctor who administered the vaccinations after getting a second opinion from….you guessed it – his chiropractor. As we should all entrust the care of our infants to the medical advice of overachieving masseuses.

Life imitating art, imitating life.

Richards also alleges that Sheen said “no comment” several times after she asked him about the “overdose” of pornstar/former paid adulteress Chloe Jones as well as him repeatedly threatening to kill her and her parents and morbidly fantasizing over Nicole Simpson autopsy photos.

Sounds like President Jedediah Bartlett needs to hold a special session with his son.

This entry was posted on Saturday, April 22nd, 2006 at 3:01 pm and is filed under Bizarro, Entertainment. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.