My name is Dex Baxter, and I'm an alcoholic.
Yes, it's true, you probably read about it in Entertainment Weekly or The National Enquirer, but yours truly is currently "resting" at Promises Rehabilitation Center.
I really thought I had this thing beat, but the demon can rise up and bite you in the ass at any time, and now I have am convalescing at the very spot that Ben Affleck, Diana Ross and Robert Downey Jr. dried out. Actually as rehab centers go, this place is pretty chic. It wouldn't be half bad if they could just put Doris Roberts into a sound proof room, that crazy bitch is always screaming at the top of her lungs...sometimes I wish someone would just slip her a vodka and tonic with a couple of Seconals so she'd pass out...
So your probably asking yourself, "Dex, wha' happened, man?"
Well it went like this...
My last day of sobriety occurred on Sunday July 30th when Hank and I drove on down to the Malibu home of my good pal, Eric Stillman, and his lovely wife, Erica. The Stillman's are new Hollywood royalty. Eric's got about ten different film offers, an Oscar, an action 
figure ("El Grande Supra Supreme!" - marketed by Mattel), and a line of men's wear that is due to hit Macy's any day now! Meanwhile, the little woman, is now the most sort after elocutionist in town! They are literally beating a pathway to the door of Erica to learn how to properly roll their R's and pronounce words like,"disestablishmentarianism".
We got to the party early and The S-Man was in rare form, handing out cigars to Hank and me and showing off his new bride as well as giving us a tour of his new digs...I was so happy for him. He deserves his success. I managed to spend some time with Erica and she was so sweet, she told me that when she was a kid, her favorite film was, "Disco Nation". She even sang me one of the songs from the soundtrack! I immediately knew what Eric saw in the saucy gal from New Jersey.
Then the other guests began arriving and the party kicked into high gear. Brad and Angie showed up with Maddox and Shiloh (such cute kids ) Beyonce and Jay Z, Tom and Rita...it was a regular who's who of the rich and vapid! Sometime around five or so, Faye Dunaway popped in and when she saw me she cried out, " Dex darling, point me in the direction of the bar, I've had a dreadful day!" So I escorted Dunaway to the well stocked bar while she prattled on about her problems...eventually I was able to shake her and go and say high to Matt and Lance (Hollywood's other hot couple of the moment)...
those crazy guys jogged all the way over from Burbank! When Dunaway spied them she cried out, "Get a room, boys! One with a working shower!!!!!" A roar of laughter swept through the crowd and someone cried out (I think it was Quentin Tarantino), "Look out, Faye's getting lit!"
Everyone was having a grand time, and when Stillman managed to break away from the crowd, he made his way over and put his arm around my shoulder, and said, "Old man, I owe you big time! None of this could have happened with out your support!" I raised my glass of ginger ale and toasted him and said, "Nonsense, you did this the old fashioned way; you slept your way to the top!" We both roared with laughter and then Stillman produced a joint and we indulged in some wacky spliff and were having a great old time until...
...we heard someone shouting from the road in front of Stillman's home, it sounded like a crazed man...it turned out to be Mel Gibson (one in the same), he was yelling, "I AM THE KING OF MALIBU!!!!" Faster than you 
could have said, "Braveheart", it was sheer bedlam! Party guests were running to the front yard of Cassa Stillman where they saw Mel in his underwear, brandishing a bottle of Dark Eyes Vodka like a club, twirling it around his head, foam coming from his mouth, his eyes wild like a sow in heat...and then he caught a glimpse of the crowd gathering and cried out, "THE JEW'S RUN HOLLYWOOD!!!" With that he gulped the rest of the contents of the bottle and threw it in a trajectory that came close to smashing our host square in the noggin. Stillman ducked and said, "Nobody ruins a party in this town, except me!!" and just as he was about to charge the madman, Dunaway grabbed his arm and said, "Allow me to deal with this, darling. I've had experience with the mentally 
deranged".
Tossing her martini aside to the lawn, Faye glided over to Gibson and gently said, "Mel, darling, everyone knows that the Scientologists run this town now, the Jews haven't held sway since Mr. Mayer died".
Gibson looked at her for a second, seemingly trying to comprehend what she was saying, and in the blink of an eye, Faye brought her knee up and gave him a kick in the balls that sent him falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
"Fuck off, darling", she said gently turning, lightning a cigarette, and making her way back to the crowd where a spontaneous round of applause rang out.
Stillman and his bride stood mouth's agape and turned to me and Hank, who smiled and said in a nonchalant manner, "Don't fuck with Faye."
After the police came and took Mel away, the party went into overdrive and I soon found myself getting caught up in the reverie.
Now here's where things start to get blurry.
Someone handed me a drink, I think it might have been Shilo or maybe one of the Olsen Twins, anyway, assuming it was a soft drink I gulped it down and quicker than you could say "Postcards From the Edge", I found myself snarfing down the Cutty Sark and several beers...oh man it felt great, like coming home!
At some point in the evening I found myself dancing with Jamie Lee Curtis and she kept saying, "Dex, I never knew you were so light on your feet!" Was I ever!
Later on I was in the bathroom with Keanu Reeves doing a couple of lines of blow...AWESOME!
Eventually I found myself on the beach walking alone, my mind a whirl of images, my mouth feeling like a place where spiders go to die.
Hank and Stillman found me passed out on a sand dune.
Hello rock bottom.
They checked me in to Promises the next morning.
**********
As rehab centers go, this place ain't too shabby. Mind you I've done Betty Ford and Passages in Malibu; Promises has them all beat hands down.
My private room has been dubbed The Matthew Perry Suite by the staff (Matt stayed in this very room on several occasions). ---ah, an aside, how great is Matt on Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip? Anyone care to guess who is character is based on? Anyone, anyone, Buehler?---
Let me tell you a little about some of the other guests at Hotel California...this morning, Congressman Mark Foley checked in, he keeps asking if there is wireless Internet service here ... Lyndsay Lohan is in the out patient clinic, damn bitch keeps stopping by my room asking if she can bum a smoke ... Robin Williams is next door and he and I have been playing scrabble to while away the afternoons...
Carrie Fisher stops by almost every day, she keeps telling me that if I really want this stay to be successful, I need to write a book about the experience (she ought to know). Hank also comes by every day, and today he brought our housekeeper Guadalupe who, as you may or may not know, just made a ton of cash when she snapped and sold some photos to The Star of Tom Cruise and Ricky Martin wrestling nude at a rest stop off the PCH. I am so proud of her!
Scripts are still pouring in, and I am still working on my own project, so that ought to keep me busy while I am here...what else can I say?
See you all in 28 days!
