Charlie Sheen and Brett Rossi: Strap me into my oxytocin jetpack and let me blow a faceload onto the hard surface of cynicism, Yosemite Sam-style, with your wholesome love for each other.
There was a moment when I heard the news this weekend — thrice-married media whirlwind, known substance abuser, and beloved star of “Wall Street” and the “Hot Shots!” movies Charlie Sheen and vivacious girls-only* former*2 porn star and current dog lover Brett Rossi were engaged — that I wondered if it could possibly end badly.
“Never!” you say. You, who are starry-eyed and dew-covered.
Now stay with me. I sometimes fear that I am broken and cynical. Like Mr. Sheen, I’ve been married and divorced. I’ve dated porn stars. I have created my own hashtag (#Placing) that, while admittedly not as popular as (#Winning), had the same amount of letters. Like Ms. Rossi, I like dogs. That a thought crossed my mind that this marriage might suffer the fate of Sheen’s previous three fills me with shame and tells me that my openness to the magic and wonder of Love is perhaps not as elastic a muscle as it once was.
My openness to the wonder and magic of love was once as elastic as Bree Olson‘s quivering rabbit nostril of an anus. Can I get that back?
I admit I also wondered why Sheen, whose divorces — particularly with delightful “Wild Things,” “Starship Troopers,” and “Love, Actually” star Denise Richards — were so contentious, didn’t think that non-binding (save for the AmEx bill) relationships with amenable porn stars-and/or-escorts like Olson, Jayme Langford, Capri Andersen, and (long ago) Ginger Lynn were enough. Why get married again, I wondered, if you, as you acknowledge, are “0-3” in the marriage department and you said of your “Goddess” period that
“…what we all have is a marriage of the hearts. And to sully, contaminate, or radically disrespect this unit with a shameful contract is something I’ll leave to the amateurs and Bible-grippers”?
“Grams,” I hear you saying, “have you never changed your mind? Think of last night when you said you were giving up coffee for a few months. What’s that you’re drinking right now? It’s exactly like Charlie Sheen.”
“Well, come on, now. Comparing my coffee consumption with — ”
“It’s exactly like Charlie Sheen.”
So friends, I need to know that there is redemption and starting fresh. Like when Sheen took over from Michael J. Fox in “Spin City” and made the role his own, I need to know that the bond between Sheen (born Carlos Estevez in 1965) and Rossi (born Scottine Christen nearly a quarter century later) can last, and can improve on its predecessors. I need to clear my head of this cynical passing thundercloud of an opinion that he is a deeply troubled abuser and she is a gold-digger. Who isn’t? I need to put aside my vexing knowledge of the girls-only narrative: that G/O porn stars only do B/G scenes when they really need the money, and that Rossi performed her one B/G scene a short time before she quit the industry and hooked up with Sheen.
Take these thoughts from my head. I need to hear my heart speak. I have forgotten what it sounds like.
That is why I am asking the Charlie Sheens to invite me to their wedding. As a respected member of the press, a First Amendment Patriot, an ally to sex workers, an admirer of Sheen’s work in “Platoon,” and a gentleman I can promise that I will behave according to the prevailing mood at the ceremony and reception, and that I will bring a sensible gift for the couple that has almost everything (hint: it won’t be a tiny accessory dog that might as well be a cat, for I know that Rossi likes dogs who look like dogs).
I will make a Tiger Blood toast. I will officiate. I will hold a post of the chupa. I will perform the sacred rite of Prima Nocta. I will stick toothpicks in the weiners (#Weining). Invite me to your wedding, Charlie Sheen and Brett Rossi, so that I can learn to love again.
*Brett Rossi’s girls-only streak was broken — once — on film by Erik Everhard in Digital Playground’s “My Sister’s Husband”
*2If Jenna Jameson can return to the porn industry, we hold out hope that everyone can, and will, eventually