Turning Shit into Gold since 2006
More than a week has passed since an A-lost celebrity decided to substitute fancy snortable drugs and expensive Cognac with whip-its as a cure for her silent self loathing. I am speaking specifically of Demi Moore’s semi-seizure crisis that exposed the incredibly embarrassing dangers of inhaling nitrous oxide.
Tenth graders and homeless people from Pacific to Atlantic usually practice this archaic method of attaining emotionless nirvana but somehow Demi managed to bring this old high to a new low. After smoking what her party pal described as a mild form of incense, aka the same stuff Miley Cyrus brashly bong ripped on her eighteenth birthday, Demi decided to take the battle she was mentally waging with her aging frame to a place it had never been before.
Dizzy and convulsing, the age inappropriate inhaler took to the floor like a wet mop. One frantic 911 call later and Demi Moore was officially a victim of her own temptations. No amount of Red Bull could revive her from the pathetic comatose state that she had huffed herself into.
With a completely cracked reputation there was only one thing left to do…self imposed celebrity exile. Who knows when the disgraced Demi will emerge from hiding, but I can tell you that Ashton and her humiliated children will probably be nowhere in sight.
Whip-its kill more brain cells than a pipe full of Meth, so hopefully this will teach G.I. Jane that there is more honor in gracefully aging than fighting wrinkles with Adderall and energy drinks.