I’m starting to get a little bit worried about Charlie Sheen, you guys.
First, he donated $100,000 to Lindsay Lohan‘s tax bill like it wasn’t no thing, and I was like, “hmm, maybe he wants to bang her.” But now he has donated another $75,000 to someone he hopefully does not want to bang, namely a 10-year-old girl with cancer, so I’m starting to think there could be something else at play here. Did Charlie Sheen have a near death experience or something?
According to Gossip Cop, Sheen was recently “chatting with a Hermosa Beach police officer” (presumably not from the back of a cop car) and “learned about a cop whose 10-year-old daughter Jasmine had been diagnosed with Childhood Rhabdomyosarcoma, a type of cancer that affects the muscle tissue.” The next day, he donated $75,000 to a fund the officers had started for Jasmine.
Does this sound like Charlie Sheen to you? Forgive my cynicism, but whenever a hedonistic celebrity looks up from his hookers and blow for a minute to do something nice for someone else, I have to wonder if he is 1.) dying, 2.) just trying to improve his image, or 3.) still reeling from the effects of a visit from the Ghost of Christmas past. I think it’s been well established that Charlie Sheen cannot be killed with even a briefcase of cocaine, and he has little sense of when he’s coming off like a douche, so I’m going to go with 3.) Charlie Sheen was visited by a ghost who changed his perspective on life.
Or maybe he even went through a full Ebenezer Scrooge and was visited by not one, not two, not three, but four ghosts, starting with that of his recently deceased friend/assistant Rick Calamaro. I can see it now:
How now!” said Sheen, caustic and cold as ever. “What do you want with me?”
“Much!” — Calamaro’s voice, no doubt about it.
“Who are you?”
“Ask me who I was.”
“Who were you then?” said Sheen, raising his voice. “You’re particular, for a shade.” He was going to say “to a shade,” but substituted this, as more appropriate.
“In life I was your partner, Rick Calamaro.”
“Can you — can you sit down?” asked Scrooge, looking doubtfully at him.
“Do it then.”
And so on. The ghosts showed him visions of Christmas past, present and future (wherein a grey-pubed Sheen finds himself all alone on Christmas after running out of money for prostitutes), and Charlie Sheen’s heart grew three sizes that day.
Now if you will excuse me, I need to find Mr. Sheen and convince him to pay my tax bill before he gets too picky about who and what he donates to. Winning!