So, Courtney Love was peeing — shouldn’t all Courtney Love stories start out that way? — and someone walked in on her.  Big deal, right?  She was partying at Standard Hotel Saturday night, used the bathroom and didn’t lock the door because she’s an idiot.  Some pharamcist dude named Sebastian Karnaby was trying to leave the same party and opened the bathroom door thinking it was an exit, but instead walked in on Courtney sitting on a toilet with her skirt around her ankles — no word if there was a mirror or white powder.  He immediately slammed the door shut, got down on his knees and prayed to be abducted by aliens willing to erase his brain’s hard drive.

According to Karnaby and other guests who corroborate his version of events, Love almost immediately came flying out of the bathroom in a rage.  She lunged at this poor guy, dragged him over to security and accused him of attacking her.  Security told Sebastian, “It’s best you get away as fast as possible.”  He did leave immediately, which was all he was trying to do in the first place before being subjected to Love’s hole.

It’s a rare celebrity that I’ll dedicate an entire photo gallery to, but Courtney Love?  Yeah, she’s worth it.  Courtney spent last night hanging out on a park bench outside a New York City hotel making friends with some random dude.  Now, I know she’s been sober for four years, but I think she’s Mischa Barton brand of “sober”, meaning she doesn’t share needles. 

I’m currently working on securing a two-for-one deal that will get both Court and Misch — yes, we’re on a one syllable terms — into Promises so they can deal with their “medical issues.”  Can I work any more “quotes” into this story?  Good luck to these, obviously struggling, ”artists.”

This is Courtney Love sleeping on walking down the streets of New York City yesterday.  Can someone please intervene on this woman’s behalf before we have another Michael Jackson on our hands?  Let’s not get to the point where she’s just dead and then every family member, friend, and aide around her tells the media that they knew this day would come. 

And if you think I’m overstating things, watch this little TMZ clip from a couple weeks ago.  Love shares the contents of her purse — syringes and pills! — and explains that she’s a Samurai.  Yeah, that sounds sober.

What in the Courtney Love of God is going on with this train wreck?  Love was seen yesterday on the streets of New York City looking like a concentration camp victim.

So I started researching to see what other than heroin Courtney has been up to lately, and supposedly she’s doing some Hole reunion — and I fully admit that saying “Hole reunion” brings out the adolescent 16-year-old that lurks within me.  There’s just one problem:  Her Hole bassist Melissa Auf der Maur knows nothing of it.  According to Auf der Maur:

“We have not been in touch too much,” Auf der Maur recently told Explore magazine. “We’ve been in touch this year after 10 years of no contact, I will say that.” Though Love remains her “soul sister”, Auf der Maur said her contributions to Love’s new album are due to the involvement of producer Michael Beinhorn, who also worked on the final Hole record.

“Michael Beinhorn and I had an incredible working relationship on Celebrity Skin,” Auf der Maur said. “And he called me and asked me if I would sing on [Courtney's] new solo record – which is what I understood it was. And I said ‘Yes’ because I enjoy working with him and … well, she and I have a history of making music together. And I’m happy to visit her again in the future.”

But rights to the band name aside, Auf der Maur believes this isn’t a Hole project. “I think you can’t take a Hole reunion that lightly. It’s gonna take a little more organising than just ‘I’ll come and sing some backups and then we got Hole.’”

Initially, Nobody’s Daughter was to be a collaboration between Love and songwriter Linda Perry. Unhappy with the results, Love scrapped those sessions, travelled to London and teamed up with English guitarist Micko Larkin, formerly of Larrikin Love. Their collaboration – still officially a Courtney Love solo project – was initially scheduled for a January release.

Instead, Love declared that Nobody’s Daughter would be Hole’s first album in 11 year, despite the absence of band co-founder Eric Erlandson and Auf der Maur’s merely tangential involvement.

We could sit here for days and try to unravel how things work in the fun mirror that is Courtney Love’s brain, but her former band mate summed it up best:  “She’s a nutbag…”

Someone stole something from Courtney Love and then sent her a case of Blackberries– the phone, not the fruit. At least, that’s what I can make out from her latest rambling Myspace blog, posted bright and early this morning.

While most people’s livers were still groggily processing last night’s liquor, Love was up early, vomiting her deep thoughts all over the internet.

so i look at etsy and i note Bernedene Mann took photos of everything Dawn Took with her and theres a TON of clothing and trims not returned, so is she selling it prvately?

NO its up on etsy  theres my ribbons theres my lace!

but that would just be a  horrific nasty twat being a twat

no this was grand larceny i have to go to the police about a whole lot of shit for insirance reasons this one is MIND BOGGLING

I’m guessing that when she says “Dawn” she’s referring to designer Dawn Simorangkir, who had a falling out with Love over some design work she did for her. Several times the post calls Dawn a “twat” or a “hag”– the same kind of internet name calling that resulted in a law suit earlier in the year. I’d like to write “Courtney had better watch what she says,” but let’s be honest– that’s not going to happen. And I’m very happy about that. Trying to decode the meaning of her pill-fed vitriol has become like a fun puzzle game for me.

She also says something about receiving a large package addressed to “Boudoir Queen” that was filled with new models of Blackberry phones that are “not yet on the market.” Love states that it “boggled” her mind, but she’s “seen weirder shit than any of [us] ever will.” Personally, my mind is boggled by the fact that, of all things, she managed to spell “boudoir” correctly. That, my friends, is some weird shit.

And now it’s that time of the day where we make you feel good about your life. Because no matter how you’re doing financially, politically, or romantically, at least you’re not Courtney Love. She posted this rant about… something (cacti? complimentary colors? flying cars?) today on her Myspace blog.

Me Blog Big today, no blog after!

orris look it up im orris rightbefore they put the enfluerage in and its taken about as long, there was a reasona fter all abnd nbo i bever ever would talk asmack about pamela  , shes im sure doing fine shes just fucke3d byhger managers overhead andthathes opwned bythe Poison Dwarf and that i pimped her to him iom sorry and that shes on my aka list and  has loads of creepyt varainst like p lee anders so is tomnny lee hes also tommy bass and TOMMYT LAW FIRM heh,

Just for fun, I pasted that into Google translator and asked it to “Detect Language” and translate into English. It came up with this:

I like pills and bands!!! Wheeeeeeee!!!

Seriously, does anyone have any idea what she’s talking about here? I think possibly she is defending  how she “insulted” Pamela Anderson by saying she lives in a trailer park, but without using an Enigma machine, that’s all I can work out.

The classiest broad on the planet had some kind words about fellow blonde bombshell (kidding!) Pamela Anderson for Page Six: “Pam Anderson doesn’t even have a credit card. And she lives in Paradise Cove — which is in Malibu, but it’s a trailer park in Malibu.”

Mostly, what’s blowing my mind here is that Courtney Love seems to have made a complete statement in 140 characters or less, a feat she’s been unable to accomplish thus far on Twitter.

But Page Six took the time to look into her accusations. They say that a “quick check on the Internet reveals that a double-wide trailer in the park costs around $325,000 — and on the high side, homes are around $1.2 million.”

Uh, dude, if you can afford a $325K anything, why on earth would you buy a double-wide trailer??? Malibu is so weird.

Now that we’ve paid tribute to Kurt Cobain’s memory, let’s drag it through the mud by talking about his battier than Christian Bale’s boxers widow, Courtney Love. Let’s talk about how she paid roughly $16,000 for a dead bird in a matchbox, then threw a one-woman crazy bitch party when someone with more sense than her (the moving men) mistook it for trash and threw it away.

When [moving] men spotted a dead bird in a matchbox at Courtney Love’s house, they assumed it was junk and threw it out.
But the embryonic chick was an £8,000 artwork, and the widow of Nirvana singer Kurt Cobain is said to be ‘blazing mad’ at its loss.
Insiders say she has thrown a ‘hissy fit’ and fired her assistant for failing to look after such a treasured possession.

The untitled artwork by fashionable British artist Polly Morgan – whose creations are much admired by Kate Moss and Damien Hirst – had been standing on a 6ft plinth in the corner of Ms Love’s bedroom. But during preparations for the move in Los Angeles, supervised by the assistant, the pedestal was packed ready for shipping to the new house. The chicklet, however, which was normally seen lying under a mini chandelier, was left sitting on a sideboard.

When the [moving] men came in to pack up the rest of Ms Love’s possessions, they spotted the chick and simply disposed of it.

‘[Courtney has] fired the assistant and is going nuts because, to her, the work was priceless and irreplaceable.’

Lets all have a round of applause for the moving men. This is one of those intriguing moments where real world common sense meets the often ridiculous excesses of the celebrity world. Normally, people who keep dead animals in their bedrooms are not called “art collectors.” They’re called psychopaths. If I were to keep a dead bird in a box on a six foot pedestal in my bedroom, how long do you think it would be before they’d haul my ass off to the nutter institute?

Hell, even the artist who made the piece has described Love as “completely bonkers.” Call me Courtney, but when the chick who puts dead mice in champagne glasses and sells them for thousands of dollars calls you a whackjob, it might be time to get some help.

Twitter is HERE, people, like it or not, and now we KNOW it’s here, because it has its very first celebrity lawsuit! And it is — OF COURSE — against Courtney Love.

In Los Angeles Superior Court, clothes designer Dawn Simorangkir, also known as Boudoir Queen, last Thursday filed suit against Love for defamation, invasion of privacy and infliction of emotional distress for “an extensive rant” on Twitter about how she was billed for custom clothing.

It’s hard to be extensive when one is limited to just 140 characters. But if anybody can do it, it’s Love, who allegedly wrote grammatically challenged comments like “oi vey don’t f— with my wardrobe or you will end up in a circle of corched eaeth hunted til your dead.”

“Whether caused by a drug induced psychosis, a warped understanding of reality, or the belief that her money and fame allow her to disregard the law, Love has embarked (o)n what is nothing short of an obsessive and delusional crusade to terrorize and destroy Simorangkir, Simorangkir’s reputation and her livelihood,” says the complaint.

Love’s spokesman declined to comment on the lawsuit.

First off, the rant WAS extensive. It occurred on March 17, and do you know how long it takes to get back to March 17 on Courtney’s Twitter account? For. Ever. (I just did it, I would know.) Courtney’s not someone who embraces Twitter as the truest embodiment of short-form writing. Rather than confine her thoughts to 140 characters, she just tweets again and again and again until it can genuinely be considered an extensive rant.

Because I love you guys, I got screen caps of all the Tweets in her rant against Dawn. They’re in the thumbnails. There are FOUR PAGES of it. Four pages of basic nonsense. There is something so very, very wrong with Courtney Love, and yet something so very right. You can’t force this kind of crazy.

And as for this Dawn person? I don’t know if she’s out for blood or if she’s just out for publicity. Either way, mission accomplished.

Let’s take a moment to read yet another page in the cautionary tale that is Courtney Love’s life. You can’t just say whatever the fuck you want, even on the internet (I’d do well to keep that in mind).

Reuters reports that the musician is being sued by designer Dawn Simorangkir for “insults the singer is accused of posting on Twitter, MySpace and online marketplace Etsy.”

Allegedly, lovable basket case Love asked the designer to make some clothing for her, didn’t pay for it, then began insulting the designer on the internet after she asked her for payment.

What I want to know is, how can anyone make enough sense out of Love’s Myspace and Twitter rantings to even know that they’ve been insulted? Take a gander at the Dickensian novel Love posted to her blog on March 17th:

oh twitter
i like it cos ts short god forbid
courtneylover79 is me i dont know how to write the main ceo of twitter and tell him im MR ad theres per usual about 30 “MES” running around there, its a great little check in no im not twittingwhat i had for dinner ill twit little tales likei did yesterday about how i learned shakesepare ina dark room the”wrong way” and howit has served me so well fpr the rest of my ;ife being autididcatic aboot the bard, then a few years late ri wento the Shakepeare festival in ashland and heard it usedinthe iambic pentameter noone had onformed me of, it was a crazy lucky break tp learn shakespeare my own “green eggs and ham” way
great store

I think she might be writing something about Shakespeare, but it could also be a recipe for methamphetamines; I’m not sure.

Courtney Love showed up at the Brit Awards yesterday looking sober and — dare I say it? — pretty. That’s never a word I use to describe Courtney. Whatever she’s doing, I hope she keeps doing it.

Yes!  Please let this be true!  I know it’s only The Daily Mirror, but they are claiming that Mickey Rourke and Courtney Love have been dating for the past few weeks.  Wouldn’t it be great if these two turned into the next Bennifer?  Like, we could see them at every premiere and Waffle House opening with Red Bull cans in hand and white powder on their noses?  I can already see the OK! magazine cover of them with their crack-addicted twins and the headline, “Our Babies Changed Our Lives.”

Oh, I’m a dreamer and realistically nothing will come of these two, but I’m bored by all the couples out there now.  Everyone is happy and blissful and having twins and international adoptions and benefit parties for the environment.  I need some good old-fashioned drama.  Not Chris Brown and Rihanna drama.  I’m just craving DUI’s and hidden camera cocaine videos; I’m jonesing, really.