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I didn’t even know who Amy Winehouse was 2 months ago. No idea. She never cracked my radar of crazy chicks most likely to die.

But after a couple of posts of America’s Flavors Of The Day (Paris, Brittney, Lindsay, and Nicole), I received several e-mails asking me why I wasn’t picking on Winehouse. At first, I ignored them, because I figured if there was some other crazy bat out there, I would have noticed her. After all, it’s what I do. But once I got my thirteenth email about her, I decided I needed to investigate.

Oh Holy Hell. This chick makes our countries loonies seem quite tame. Well, except for Brittney. She’s still batshit crazy and potentially just days from killing herself or someone else.

Drugs. Frequent drunk binges. Cutting. All out knock-down-bitch-slap-donnybrooks. And this is just in the past three weeks or so. The fight was a result of Amy’s husband (Blake Fielder-Civil) walking in on her cutting herself and about to do drugs with a prostitute when he intervened. Even though she’s a crack whore now, watching her get down with another woman is hot.

Amy has also gone from about a size 15 to crack whore skinny. And, she just recently canceled her American tour dates to “rest.” Her hubby’s parents have made an impassioned plea for them to quit drugs, before one of them dies. They say that these two nutjobs are so close, that if one dies, the other will likely commit suicide. Only they’d do it right I’m sure, unlike Ben Stiller Siamese twin Owen Wilson.

These goddamned celebs that lose control are fodder for people like me that like to point and laugh. Earning likely positions on lists on my site is the bottom of the barrel for these 20-something year old train wrecks. When you get people rooting for a death so they can get points and bragging rights, maybe you’ve gone over the edge. To each his (or her) own, I guess. Keep partying, Amy. It works for you.