You know, as much crap as The Rolling Stones get for being 3,000 year old mystical mummified corpses, we have to hand it to them: They still know the definition of rock star. (Sideward glancing at you, Paul McCartney.) So much so that Keith Richards is finally giving up drugs… not because they’ve effed him up so much that he’s falling out of trees left and right, but rather because these newfangled drugs on the market aren’t as strong or good as they used to be. That’s right: The quality is not up to brain-liquifying par. In fact, after his famous coconut-plucking tumble a few months ago, Richards admits to asking for extra morphine in the hospital, as his dosage wasn’t kicking in.
Well, uh-hellooooo. Making out with Keith Richards would be like licking an 8 1/2 by 11 tab of LSD. The guy is seriously walking in his own matrix of questionable reality, that reality being a living haunted house decoration. But giving up drugs entirely? We scoff. You’re in the Rolling-f**king-Stones, Keithy. Aaaaand you’ve got a hilariously drug-and-accident-addled barbituary to live up to. Now get to it!
