The News Of The World has reported that Kurt Cobain‘s ashes have been stolen from his widow Courtney Love‘s home.
NME writes, “The ashes were said to have been kept in a “pink teddy bear-shaped bag along with a lock of his hair” and were taken with some jewelery and clothes.”
“I can’t believe anyone would take Kurt‘s ashes from me,” remarked Love. “I find it disgusting and right now I’m suicidal. If I don’t get them back I don’t know what I’ll do. They were all I had left of my husband. I used to take them everywhere with me just so I could feel Kurt was still with me. Now it feels like I have lost him all over again.”
Who would do such a thing?
It’d have to be someone who knows Courtney well enough to know she’s got a pink teddy bear shaped bag
stuffled with ashes of a dead rock star. Unless it was a hapless burglar who nicked the ashes inadvertently whist boosting the aforementioned “jewelery and clothes”. But I doubt it. Who burgles a rock stars wife and only robs “jewelery and clothes”?
Well, burglars lacking strength, perhaps. But its unlikely. If you ask me, the most likely culprit is:
She is, after all, batshit crazy.
I mean, if you believe Krist Novoselic (and a shit load of other people) Courtney was crazy enough to have the gardener bump Kurt off for her way back in ’94. 14 years later she’s surely crazy enough to steal his ashes and go crying to the newspapers about it. When was the last time anyone gave too much of a shit about her lunatic ass? That time she tried to boff one of The Strokes? That time she got plastic surgery that made her look like every other dummy in LA? That time she rolled about on the Kings Road with no clothes on for that Q cover? Blah? Blah? Blah?
I used to be terribly angry when people slagged off Courtney Love, considering it evidence of a male dominated, woman-hating music industry and populace in general. I figured Live Through This was a brillaint record, and people were jealous and mean.
But a lot of things have happened over the years to make me, reluctantly, change my tune. There are a great many tales I could tell you (like the time a very good female friend of mine went back to The Columbia Hotel with Love after Trash and narrowly escaped from the ensuing drysexdrugs “you are all my groupies you fucks” wannabe Zepplin party fuckery with her left tit intact), but now is not the time or the place for that sort of thing.
Nah, now is a time to forget all that crap and listen to this awesome song.
Stream: Hole – Miss World
Boy oh boy I forgot how awesome this shit was…