Great Moments in Douchebaggotry is brought to you by Rocks Off's upcoming Washington Shore party, Thursday, February 11 at the Washington Avenue Drinkery. All types of douchebags are encouraged to attend.
|Didn't Iggy Pop write a song about this? "Your Pretty Face" is something something?|
We don't know if you've been following along, but if you have, you already know the life of Courtney Love has not exactly been a showcase of taste and restraint. She's been constantly caught up in numerous shenanigans involving drugs, crime, and public feuds. She's been involved in a ton of lawsuits, some of which are still ongoing, and thanks to having had more cosmetic surgery than Darth Vader, has gone from a reasonably hot chick to some kind of bone monster dipped in a vat of barely-adherent skin.
Just about the only thing Rocks Off sides with her on is the death of her husband, Kurt Cobain. We think it's pretty obvious she wasn't directly involved; if she had been, Kurt would have been found skinned and nailed to the ceiling, with Lovecraftian glyphs painted on the walls around the crime scene in his own blood. And covered in heroin. Oh Lordy, let us not forget the heroin.
Those of us old enough to remember when Frances Bean Cobain was born have been relentlessly terrified for her this entire time, waiting for either Courtney to clean up her act, or for the authorities to intervene and confiscate Frances Bean like she was made out of weapons-grade plutonium.
Frances Bean had already lived with Kurt's mother Wendy O'Connor on those semi-annual occasions when Courtney was arrested, and so returned to live there on a permanent basis when Courtney was stripped of custody last December. The really eerie thing is that we still don't know what the hell was the last straw, only that whatever it was moved Frances Bean to take out a restraining order against her own mother - which of course Courtney is suing to have undone.
Fans of Courtney's now-defunct Twitter page, used to seeing her quasi-literate, batshit-crazy writing style, were just pleased as punch to see Courtney take to her Facebook page with an angry screed against her recently-fled daughter, one that surpassed her Twitter feed both in character count and sheer eye-fucking insanity. Here's a sample, which made Rocks Off's proofreader bleed from the ears and anus:
"i dont care really i hate to spund cold but any kid of mine who pulls this shit has lost her position and friends in nyc they will pretend to like her, but ill go teach at bard before she gets in,she was deceptive she lied and shes lying to herself, she sits on her facebook adding yet more books and films and frankly the whole thing disgusts my daihgter is not always honest and ive alliwed her to visit with these assholes i support to the tune of houses horses and monthly annuities and cars, well the good news is now that frances is clearly deluded that she can buy her grandmaother a "small house in la" id love to see how that works."
Okay then! You can read the whole thing here
(it's at Perez Hilton; we're sorry about that). If you were able to parse the unique and charming language Courtney invented, you just finished reading what basically amounts to a high-school girl angrily railing against one of her semi-friends on the Internet, an attack which will surely be retracted just as soon as the drama dies down a little, or the Olympia High Fighting Turkeys win the big game and everybody forgives each other long enough to celebrate with a kegger at the beach bonfire. Wooooo, Class of 2011!
Except Courtney Love is 45 years old. And Frances Bean Cobain is her fucking daughter. Seriously, this is why you give up your vices in your late 20s or early 30s, kids: you reach a point where living like a sorority girl with daddy issues just isn't cute anymore. You don't want to become a flesh hag engaging in a Facebook battle with your own offspring. It is limitlessly sad.
Best of luck, Frances Bean. Keep running from this lady. Keep running, and never stop.