Ozzy Osbourne's New Book: How To Cure Athlete's Foot With Cocaine
The Prince of Darkness' new book, Trust Me, I'm Dr. Ozzy is a collection of advice columns for London's The Sunday Times and Rolling Stone. It turns out that these publications were willing to employ a man who once tattooed smiley faces on his knees so he'd have something to cheer him up while sitting on the toilet.
After 40 years of drugs and alcohol, Osbourne's been institutionalized. He's also been declared dead twice, mistakenly diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, and survived a plane crashing into his tour bus. Oh, and don't forget that he's beheaded a bat, beheaded a dove, swallowed a bee, and, while filming The Osbournes, took 42 different types of prescription medication a day.
Clearly, the man knows how to cheat death. And so, in anticipation of his book signing at Barnes & Noble at the Grove on Saturday at 3 pm, we've compiled his top six best health care tips from the book.
On peeing to get rid of athlete's foot
"Back in the Eighties, though, I used to deal with athlete's foot by pouring cocaine on my toes. They cut the stuff with so much foot powder in those days, it was the best treatment you could find if you had an outbreak on the road, away from you local chemist's. The only problem is the price: It worked out at about three grand a toe."
"Oh, I used to get this all the time. I'd wake up at three in the morning with a horrendous burning sensation in my chest. Then one night my bed caught fire, and I realized I'd been going to sleep every night with a lit cigarette in my hand. When I stopped doing that, the problem went away."
On fear of flying
"Flying can be deadly. For example, I was on a place once to America and the bloke next to me started to make funny noises while eating his nuts. Next thing I knew, I was sitting next to a corpse. The worst thing is having to explain why a bloke who'd been alive a few minutes earlier was suddenly face down on his tray table. In the end they put a blanket over him and moved me to a seat in first class with champagne."
"Anti-depressants are a fabulous thing...but they'll play havoc with your meat and two veg. I've been taking them for years and what I've found is, I can get a boner, but no fireworks. So I just end up pumping away on top of Sharon like a road drill all night. I tried Viagra once, but by the time it kicked in, the missus was fast asleep. So it was just me and this tent pole in front of me, with nothing to do but watch the History Channel."
On happy endings
"A handjob is a very personal thing, and after a lifetime of practice, most blokes get a pretty fucking specific preference for the kind of technique they like. So unless you're acting as a co-pilot and barking out instructions to your dodgy masseuse every two seconds, it might end up feeling more like she's skinning a dead rabbit than driving you wild with forbidden pleasure."
On penile enlargements
"Look, it in ain't broke, don't try to fix it -- 'cos the only thing worse than a very small penis is very small penis that shoots blanks and looks like some mutant fucking eel from outer space."
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