Amy Winehouse Fights with Husband in Public!
Amy Winehouse and her heroin addict husband took turns beating the shit out of each other at a hotel in London yesterday. The Daily Mail reports
Guests at the Sanderson hotel reported hearing the sound of clattering furniture and screaming coming from [Amy and Blake’s] £500-a-night suite. The fight left 23-year-old Winehouse with blood staining her pink ballet shoes and the knees of her jeans. Purple bruises could be seen on the side of her neck and her knuckles were swollen. But her 24-year-old husband appeared to have come off a lot worse with cuts and scratches on both cheeks and around his neck.
No good domestic dispute is complete unless it continues out into the street:
At around 2.30am, the fight sounded like it had restarted [and] Winehouse was seen sprinting down the corridor to the lift, pursued by her badly bleeding husband. They started shouting at each other. “Amy was in floods of tears. This guy was screaming at her. She was cowering in the corner and I thought he was going to hit her. When the lift door opened, she took off across the lobby at a real pace. He was chasing after her and was about five paces behind by the time she got to the main hotel entrance.” The couple then dashed into the street. An eyewitness said: “Just after 3am, Amy came sprinting out and down the road. She was in a real state of panic. Blake was running after her, but couldn’t catch up. Amy was so hell-bent on getting away from him that she ran into the middle of the street and flagged down a random car that happened to be full of girls. She was saying, ‘Quickly, I have to get in, I have to get away, please help me’. Her voice was breaking, you could tell she was scared.”
I can’t remember which fairy tale this is more like. Is it The Princess and the Pea? Sleeping Beauty? The Taming of the Shrew? I guess it doesn’t really matter, because like the brave knight in any good fairy tale, her husband came to her rescue:
In a series of texts to celebrity blogger Perez Hilton, she defended her husband and said “Blake is the best man in the world. We would never ever harm each other… I was cutting myself after he found me in our room about to do drugs with a call girl and rightly said I wasn’t good enough for him. I lost it and he saved my life.”
Another good way to save someone’s life is to hold them underwater until they stop kicking. Or offer them a 12-gauge and a pen and a pad of paper. In high school I was in a support group for suicidal teens, so I know all the best ways to save people on the brink of self-destruction. Any good counselor will tell you that the road to recovery starts with binge drinking and cowering in the corner of an elevator. Hmmm… on second thought, maybe it wasn’t “the road to recovery.” Maybe it was “the highway to hell.” I was really into Angus Young and LSD in the eleventh grade, so sometimes it gets a little mixed up.
More pictures of the lovebirds post-fight after the jump
