Really Bad Idea

Steve-O is releasing an album. A rap album!
The MTV reality star is also apparently going through some rough times and scaring his friends and family.
CLICK HERE to read all about it, if you care!

From his official blog:
Saturday, July 14, 2007
People Have Been Worrying About Me
I’ve done some stupid things over the past few weeks to really make my loved ones become concerned about me. There’s nothing I can do to change that now, except write this to them, as well as all of you. I’ve made my priority in life, at least for the last 2-3 weeks, the recording a great Steve-O rap album. Making this album has been a magical experience– an adventure through wonderful, horrible, and everything in between.
To anyone that chooses to be critical of my decision to make this rap album, I’ve got bad news for you, it’s a great album. I’ve been recording it with the producers of the one and only G-Unit and it is, indisputably, incredible, and made by the most talented people in rap music. So, since there’s no criticisizing the quality of my album, anyone who chooses to will do nothing but sell units for me– if that’s what you’re into, let me thank you ahead of time. Thank you. Something about embarking on this album-recording mission made me feel compelled to get back into a really unhealthy lifestyle consisting of heavy, major, drug abuse. I don’t know why that is, but, I can’t change that now. I can’t change the fact that I’m solely responsible for the fact that my family and loved ones have been worried beyond sick about me, and that I’ve been very much “off the radar” for so much of this time. The only thing I can do about that is assure everyone that I’m, indeed, in a much better place than I was a couple of weeks ago, and that I’m simply swamped by this monstrous ocean of work that I’ve chosen to take on.
Right now I’m sitting at the business center of an airport hotel. I’m worn out and frustrated for many reasons, including the simple fact that making a great album is just that much of an emotional investment, and a very time-consuming one, at that. Furthermore, there’s a great deal more than rap music that I have going on my career, a reality which has forced me, more than once, to drop everything and fly back and forth between New York and Los Angeles — for no more than one day’s obligation. That’s just how it is, and it’s frustrating.
Now, let me describe a few events of the last few days. I returned to my secret “hip hop hideaway” in upstate New York, a residential home, deep in the woods, which is inhabited by G-Unit staff who have been delegated to look after me (i.e. sequester me, babysit me, and keep me working at this blistering pace that’s not slowed down since this process began). In this house in the woods, I got into the habit of letting three tiny little dogs out of this little cage, a cage that is visibly designed to harbor no more than one animal. I hate to see animals in cages. Well aware of how the house is utilized to keep the dogs in, and having an idea of the perimeters outside the house that serve the same purpose, I felt very comfortable indulging in my habit of freeing these dogs to roam around the inside of the house, answering only to their own free will. After I let the dogs out of the cage one time, something really bad happened, one of the dogs got out of the house and was hit by a car which was speeding through the windy, woody roads.The dog died and, for many valid reasons, I feel the brunt of responsibility for that fact. Without interrupting my recording schedule (although it required me to sacrifice a full night’s sleep) I arranged and attended the proper burial of that dog, at a very upscale pet cemetery near the Bronx in New York. That dog dying sucked.
Today I was supposed to return to LA for work related to my new television series, Dr. Steve-O. I wound up in a situation where I stood no chance of making my flight (which is OK because my obligation in LA is not until after 4pm PST tomorrow, and I’ve since secured a guaranteed seat on a 6:45am flight out of New York (which is 3:45am LA time, giving me plenty of time to make it). What’s not translating into these words I’m typing is my frustration over the fact that I can’t be with a special person in LA tonight. I’m stuck at this airport hotel. The driver from the car service we called to get me to the airport talked my fucking ears off the entire way to NYC. That asshole yapped at me the point that I felt, literally, suffocated. Despite his abhorrent lack of professionalism, I tipped the man one hundred US dollars, while trying to negotiate with the airline on my cellphone. The same driver, who sucked the fucking life out of me on that ride, felt it was so important to give me a hug that I wanted absolutely no part of, that he grabbed me– knocking my phone out of my grasp and sending it freefalling to the cement. My phone now displays nothing to me when I open it.
The purpose of this long message, is to assure my loved ones that I am, indeed OK now. I’m over-worked, worn out, frustrated beyond belief, and helplessly missing this special person in Los Angeles, but, I’m OK. I can’t call, and I left my computer charger in the restaurant that Knoxville brought me to for our “Everyone’s worried sick about you Steve-O” lunch. I left it there because I cared about nothing but Knox hearing how good the work I’ve been doing for this album is. So, I think I’ve written everything I needed to write. I will, despite this incredible amount of frustration and difficulty, appear for all of my professional obligations. I will continue to be professional, I will get through the mountain of work I’ve delegated for myself, and I will be OK. There is no reason to worry about me, nothing is wrong with me barring work-related stress. Please, nobody worry about me right now, I’m simply working harder than I ever have before and, even though I can’t call or e-mail as much as everyone wants me to, I’M OK! Please, forgive me for being “off the radar”, and know that the only reason I’m unreachable is that I’m working my fucking ass off. OK, I think I’ve covered everthing. I’m going to retire to my shitty airport hotel room and rest. I will be unreachable, and I need everyone to be able to deal with that– all of my bad luck isn’t entirely my fault. I love you all,
Steve-O