What do you mean, there's no ice pops? Someone should tell Mitch Winehouse that Jamie Spears makes ten grand a month babysitting his grown daughter. You'd think a father would prefer writing checks for his daughter to writing her eulogy, but maybe he's holding out for a book deal.
It's hard to believe, but Amy's still alive ... barely. Despite her best efforts, somehow she's still breathing. I don't think she's bathing, though - the cut-off shorts she's wearing in this picture were long pants earlier this week. I wonder if the fabric has rotted into her skin yet.
When she's not doing every drug she can get her hands on, Amy is busy trying to alienate the few left who still care about her. At her goddaughter's singing debut, Amy was set to provide backup vocals. It was probably one of her worst performances ever. After the show she had a meltdown backstage, where she collapsed and cried, "Life can't go on. I can't do this anymore." Then she tried to headbutt the photographer.
The accompanying picture is of Amy as she returned home at the end of the night, screaming batshit crazy and missing a shoe. She looks all of about 42 pounds - most of it hair. It's so sad - I loved her album when I first heard it; now I can't bear to listen to it. It's a tragedy just waiting to happen.