I just finished Scott Weilands’ (former singer-songwriter for Stone Temple Pilots) memoirs.
Alcohol- being a self confessed, resigned to his fate drunk was his last vice and it’s what ultimately led him back to crack, which he felt cocaine as an evil drug that conjured up negative forces (I concur with that it happened to me in the 80s).
He had congenital cardiomyopathy, his brother died of crack and cardiac arrest and so did he.
This guy was a poet. His lyrics didn’t make sense but they did. And so many of his lyrics were about ‘selling out.’
“I’m not dead and I’m not for sale.”
“What’s real and what’s for sale.”
He married a supermodel who was also a drug addict and bipolar but to bear children she needed to stay straight, which she did.
She left him and was interviewed in bipolar magazine which is why I thought they would like my story about him.
I saw “Big Short” yesterday and laughed so hard, especially at the scene with the Stripper in Florida who had five houses and a condo and no clue. Christian Bale will win an academy award, definitely Golden Globe award as the misunderstood, Metallica loving, misanthropic misfit who took the time to crunch thousands of numbers, tabulate thousands of Fico scores, the first to recognize the housing bubble. And few believed him. So much laughter therapy. Marisa Tomei resumes her “Lincoln Lawyer” role playing someone’s sounding board, someone’s conscience as wife of the tortured banker played by Steve Carrell. Ryan Gosling breaks the fourth wall similarly to how Kevin Spacey does in “House of Cards.” We love him for it.