Blind Item #1 - The Dancing Boy Confesses

 ...to something I haven't even done yet. See: I'm kind of resenting the fact that once again I am being sent to sh*thole jail (basically) rehab (and you know I rarely swear) rather than club Malibu rehab (ie the infinity pools, juice bar, and views of the colony). It's not that I especially mind peeing in a cup twice a week (although the nurse will soon be like: would you please not try to bite my arm this time?), and have even my reading material scrutinized (ie we are so not allowing that here), it's just that not being able to go the 7-11 to get me some candy may prove a very heavy burden.

This one day back in the 9th grade T (older brother of A) asks me if I was on the cover of this one back. It was part of a photo-journalist series: a day in the life of...(in this case) the state of states (if you work in this business). I said no I didn't think so (sometimes they did use your image for other things, but that was usually in house stuff: the store circular that is in your region, then another - that sort of thing). But I was curious and went to the mall book store. And holy cow I had...a doppelganger.

Fast forward to more recent times, and I am now a friend of this person (and yes we both like to surf - I really hate cold water though). So N** grew up on a farm of sorts - the kind which may be perfectly lawful now but was most certainly not back in the day. That's where I'm planning to go if I can...Escape From Rehab. I've never actually done this before (at least not in a multi-day sort of way), but you kind of wonder if there's like a rehab apb or something. I mean: does the word go out to all the rehabs in the state to be on the lookout for this complete idiot, extremely stoned and possibly running naked along the beach?