Has anybody else noticed that Charlie Sheen’s nostril looks like the entrance to a cave?

In honour of the warlock himself, my housemates and I are hosting a Charlie Sheen themed party tonight. We have made Charlie Sheen masks and will be listening to the various remixes of the incredible interview above.

As he will no doubt be auditioning for a new goddess in some form of reality contest (how many 7g rocks can you bang anyone?), I am hoping that the pictures of said event might encourage Charlie to pick me as his social media intern.

Soaking up some sun with the Sheen feels like a far preferable alternative to ill fated attempts at employment in London. And now that Bree Olsen (aka porn star goddess) has proved her lack of devotion by fleeing Sober valley mansion, I am ready to step in. I will be laying down some ground rules of course, I will not be locked in any storage facilities, nor will I allow Charlie to be in charge of a fire arm. (I have no intention of learning the hard way a la Brooke Mueller) 

Hopefully our lack of tiger blood will not prove us to be droopy eyed armless children. I’ve got one speed. GO!