Dr. Drew calmly asks himself, “With a success rate so low, why do you even keep up the fight?” ‘Money,’ I answer, swigging another beer. Sweet, sweet VH1 money.
First up. NBA crossdresser Dennis Rodman. Everyone on the planet knows who he is, he says modestly. A montage of pictures reminds me that Rodman is ugly in drag. It also reminds me that this show loves its montages. If Louis l’Montage had never invented the technique, Celebrity Rehab would be 40 minutes of dead air.
Dennis drinks because he’s bored. I’ve already had enough of the Dennis Rodman story arc. He’s not bored; he’s boring. We cut to “home video” of Rodman drunk in a hotel room with some average looking tramps. He asks one, “Who you f-bleep?” “My boyfriend,” she answers. I rewound this a few times. I think she’s lying. Something about a little hitch in her reaction and eye movements. I also think she’s naive if she thinks a lie like that will keep Rodman away. He unleashes super awesome never fail pick-up line #147: “If I f-bleep you, honey, that’d be cool.” She looks like she’s about to hurl. Good comeback, hun. There’s a shot of Rodman pointing and commanding two women into the bedroom. Two women cross in front of the camera and we’re supposed to believe they go to the bedroom, but I’m guessing the shot is a victim of the show’s editors manipulating the context and that Rodman spent the night watching reruns of Roseanne.
Whoa, a shot of Rodman with his kids? There’s more of him? His kids hug him and in turn he launches them on a long road of depression and substance abuse by failing to show any emotion towards them. Dr. Drew tries to interview Captain Fun, but the good Captain decides to give short answers, shoulder shrugs and “I don’t need this” stuff. He’s been sent to rehab by the court, and that’s about all we hear outta USS Shutdown. Thanks for playing, Cap.
My pencil is dull so I’m switching to pen. In the future, I’ll write this with brainwaves. Brainwaves, aircars. Damn. Way to let me down 2010. Back in the 80s, I had such high hopes for 2010. Now? Nothin.
Country singer Mindy McCready is next. Naturally, I don’t recognize her at all. They show old photos of her when she was skinny. Wanna hear something funny? I used to think the phrase ‘butter face’ meant a girl had soft, doughy, mushy facial features like a Cabbage Patch doll. Or a Cabbage Patch doll with a mound of soft butter on its face. No emails about what ‘butter face’ really means. Please. I know. I just think my definition is better. Anyway, even skinny, she’s a butter face. These days she’s butter head to toe (I’m a horrible person).
Mindy had an abusive relationship and also signed away her kid to her mom. Celebrity Rehab has decided it would be hilarious to bleep out the words ‘mom’ and ‘mother’ this season. God is that clever. All in all, Mindy seems pretty normal. Made a few bad decisions, but knows it. That sorta deal. Mindy Butterman is gonna be okay. That’s my prediction.
Contestant #3 is Mike Starr, former bassist of Alice in Chains. Uh, Mike, are you AKA Jerry Cantrell or Layne Staley? No? Then you, my friend, are about as much a part of Alice in Chains as the lighting guy. He’s on methadone and heroin and uses with his dad, a charming fellow with at most one tooth. Mike’s got a nasty little abscess on his butt. He would snort toenail clippings out of an ashtray if you told him it gives a nice buzz. Here’s Mike in a nutshell: nice guy, never had a real job for more than a week, got a taste of success in the music biz, and the thought that he might have to get a real job and relegate music playing to hobby status has never occurred to him. Mike, bad news fella. Us musicians, writers, painters, dreamers, you know, the world has no use for us. A tiny few rake in cash for their corporate art; the rest of us work like dogs. I can’t wait for Mike’s withdrawal. It could be epic.
Mackenzie Phillips is next. The show was shot prior to her revealing her incestuous relationship with her dad. Like Mindy, she seems self-aware and eager to get help. I’ll root for her.
Mack and Mike ask, “Who’s Mindy?” Suddenly I feel really bad for Mindy Butterman, who I savaged earlier.
Lisa D’Amato is a mannishly jowled model from America’s Next Top Model. She’s not an alcoholic, booze just pours out her ears by accident. Her traumatic past? Mom (er, I mean, ‘bleep’) brought home guys who abused Lisa as a kid. Mom of the Year Ms. Bleep is not. Dr. Drew tells Lisa, “Using alcohol as a drug to relax is not a normal relationship to alcohol.” Actually, I thought that’s exactly a normal relationship to alcohol. If relaxing with alcohol is abnormal, where does passing out rate? Damn it, Drew, we’re not Mormons.
Heidi Fleiss. We’ve already met her. Chatty gal. Likes the word ‘whore.’ It strikes me that with the possible exception of Dennis Rodman, a former professional athlete, Heidi might be the hardest worker of this motley crew of musicians and actors. She is lonely and meth keeps her company. She has a little bonding moment with Shelly Sprague, a tech and ass-kicker at the recovery center. Shelly, however, is incapable of bonding with anything other than her hip glasses.
Last and certainly least is Joey Kovar from Real World Hollywood, season 20. He just seems like a knucklehead meatball. Wants to get clean for his unborn baby. With Joey, the show is bleeping out both ‘mother’ and ‘father.’
Tom Sizemore will not be gracing us with his presence this episode.
In the first group session, Captain Fun intones, “My mental capacity is way beyond…you know…I undershhtand…I’ve trained my mind…but…put in a zen formation…I get it. I get it. I can do anything I want to. It’s as simple as that.” Staffer Bob Forrest, who is cooler than anyone who’s been on this show, laughs, “It’s the first day.”