Demi Moore is having a mid-life crisis. At least that is what Star Magazine says and we know that is the gospel. They claim she is partying and doing drugs to hang on to her youth. She might as well wear nylons with sandals while sitting on her davenport. Nothing says you’re old like doing “whip-it’s.” My son saw this story on television and was bewildered. “What is a whip-it?” Getting high off nitrous oxide is so 1990. “This is your brain. This is your brain on drugs. Any questions?” No, I don’t think drug addiction is funny.
The idea of a supposed “A-list” celebrity sucking off a whip cream can does make me giggle. I also find it amusing that Demi’s friends were concerned she was drinking too much Red Bull, but no red flag went up when she bought Reddi-Whip by the case.
I will admit I did a whip-it once in high school. Picture a few girls with jeans pinned at the ankles, faces speckled with acne, hair curled and cemented with Aqua Net trying to be cool. I didn’t enjoy it and decided to eat the whip cream instead. We will discuss my eating disorder at a later date. I just told my son she was doing drugs. I paced back and forth and spoke in a tone mimicking Samuel L. Jackson in the movie “Pulp Fiction.” My speech went something like this, “She was doing drugs. If you do drugs you will die. Dead. You will never see your family again. Forget having lunch at McDonalds or playing video games with your friends. You will be in the ground with bugs crawling on your face.” He was horrified. I don’t think I will be finding a crack pipe in his bedroom anytime soon. Also, thanks to Demi, I don’t think he will ever eat dessert again.