I have been arrested 3 times in LA, yes, that would be one too many and they wanted to lock me up for a year and a half. It’s a long and not so interesting story so I will spare you the details, but in a nutshell, here goes. The last boyfriend (or a walking excuse for euthanasia) and I got into speedballs, well if you’re going to do drugs you might as well go all the way, all my real friends stayed away as they couldn’t bare to watch me killing myself, but my drug buddies were very supportive of my new habits and encouraged my crazy schemes and scams to make enough money to buy dope, one of which was a credit card fraud 3 ring circus, the head of which was a 6ft 6ins, ex gang member called Hangman.

Hangman was the CEO of one of the biggest credit card fraud rings in LA, and I became one of his best employees. We would get given a credit card, sometimes the name would be Ho Chin Lin, or something equally ridiculous, and it would work for around 4 hours, we had a list of purchases for Hangman, a leaf blower, a DVD player, 15 cartons of Marlboro, and once you got his requests, you could then ‘shop till you dropped’ or got busted. I did so well, the shop assistants very rarely asked me for ID, and I would give them my best Princess Di (my nick-name in jail) accent if they ever asked questions. Well, you can only get away with so much for so long and, I was always so high, I felt somewhat invincible, I got over-confident and got caught in Nordstroms, with a driving license that barely resembled me, and said my height was 6ft 1ins, I saw the store detective approaching, (I recognized her from my previous arrest) and I bolted, I would have got away too, but the little do-gooder who worked in the Starbucks, tripped me up, and I fell flat on my face.

Anyway, having had two previous arrests, the first was merely for shop lifting and my ex-husband paid for a good lawyer, and I played the “single mother, abused by philandering ex-husband rockstar” card. Half way through my lawyers excellent speech, the stenographer goes up to the judge, who then calls a “Sidebar” the prosecutor and my lawyer go to the judge, when he returns, I get a slap on the wrist and promptly released. The stenographer had only slept with Billy, got pregnant and he treated her like shit, what a witness!!!!

Needless to say, I wasn’t so lucky, the 2nd and 3rd time, and they gave me 18 months. Having kicked dope in jail twice already (I hadn’t planned on going to jail and had no choice) at least this time I had prepared, I had a bag of pills up my snatch so the comedown wasn’t quite so harsh, it was no picnic either, of course I did them all in a week and was sick as a dog, but I was in there for 3 weeks, Twin Towers downtown, and the front page of the LA times says “Any woman in jail for non-violent crimes are eligible for house arrest, due to severe over-crowding”

YEAH! sign me up biatch!! I waited another 10 days for my interview and BAM! I was out. Not exactly free, but the ankle bracelet sure beats jail, and I cheated when I walked the perimeter of my house, so I got a nice tan, apart from a white ring around my ankle!!