Stan's Slowly Sold On Sobriety

It’s one of those days, Rose. One of those damning days where you dare ask yourself, “Did I acquire a brain injury from all that booze I sank over the weekend?”

*long pause*

I should probably call Kiefer for some advice, because let’s be honest: I’ve not knocked back this much since the last time Katherine Heigl made a picture worth paying money to see.

I’m sans police footage to jog my memory (poor Reese – she didn’t even know who she was, which was clearly  why she asked those perky cops, over and over again) and after four green teas, I’m still suffering a horrid haze that won’t disappear like Thora Birch kindly did. So who’s to say my Mel Gibson meltdown didn’t bubble to the surface.

You’ll say I shouldn’t beat myself up. Not when Shania’s ex-husband is there, ready to beat me to the punch. And there’s always George Michael – he takes his freedom to a new level every other day, and look at him: Amazing.

So like Amanda Seyfried’s urine test from this year’s Oscars, I’m best staying positive. Hell – JLo brought her Block back from the brink, so surely Stan stands a chance to turn things around, too.

And it all starts with witling down my way with wine to the weekends. And while this sounds impossible, may I just remind you: Nickleback have sold millions of albums. Yes, and that’s fact.

Point if we sound like we're strangling cats.

It just goes to show that success can be found even in the most unlikely, ugliest of places.