Yes, yes, yes. We all know Amy Winehouse is a troubled soul, but a very talented musician. (I don’t really believe that, but we’ll let it stand because her music isn’t relevant to this post.) What’s really impressive about Amy, however, is her talent for making absolutely terrible decisions. She is to bad lifestyle choices what Jimi Hendrix was to the electric guitar. Case in point: her desire to adopt a child. The link says Amy’s motive here is sweet maternal vengeance, since she learned that Blake’s foul semen has impregnated whatever crack-skank he’s currently shacked up with. But I prefer to think Courtney Love put this notion in her head. Compared to Amy’s parenting skills, Courtney would come off looking like a more competent version of June Cleaver.

If you can believe what you read in British tabloids, Amy is serious enough about this to consider relocating permanently to St. Lucia. (Sorry, St. Lucians!) Meanwhile, she’s nurturing her maternal side by writing a children’s book. Just imagine the scene a few years from now when Amy’s in her island home, with her child nestled in her lap, listening to Mom read Rainbow Brite and the Crack-dealing Scumbag. “Now you listen to your ol’ Mum, because men are pigs! Pigs, the lot of ‘em. ‘Specially that one bloke—wotsit, bloke? Blank? Somfing… –Blake, ‘e’s the one… Oh, I could tell you stories…. Not now, luv. Mummy’s medicine is startin’ to kick in.”