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.

Dudes, that’s Courtney “Thank Christ This Wall Is Here” Love last night at the ELLE Style Awards.  What the hell happened to her?  Oh, wait, I know the answer to that.  Diet and exercise and most certainly not gastric bypass.  I’m addicted to all those TLC shows like Half Ton Mom, Half Ton Teen, Half Ton Dad and have lost entire weekends to their obesity clinic marathons.  One thing that all the bypass patients seem to experience is flabby excess skin from rapid post-surgery weight loss-kind of like Courtney has on her sides and back.  Except Love’s is due to diet and exercise-not, uh, surgery.  Nope, that shit is the result of macrobiotic living.

The rest of the night went something like this:  Anna Friel was there in a dress emblazoned with the word “NO”.  Anna, please start listening to your wardrobe; It is wise.  Mickey Rourke got all Lindsayish and started swigging clear liquid out of an Evian bottle, Pixie Geldof had severe panty lines.  Thandie Newton concluded that she was better than everyone there and Frieda Pinto wore shoulder condoms.

Courtney Love hangs out backstage at KROQ’s Almost Acoustic Xmas.

It entirely possible that she’s actually transporting bags of heroin in her lips these days.