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Soul Soiled
The following is an excerpt from Chuck Lorre's forthcoming autobiography, Soul Soiled, a story of degradation, despair and, finally, redemption...
The thing is, she shouldn't have stolen my heroin. But as I looked down at her battered, cheerleader's body, a bloody twirling baton in my right hand, a dirty hypodermic needle in my left, the only thought rattling around my fevered, junkie brain was whether I could trade her baby for a gun. I wish I could say I hit rock bottom that night. But my moment of clarity wouldn't come until years later when I was doing hard time in a hard prison. I was in the hole, which frankly was hard, when Mother Mary came to me. She was speaking words of wisdom, (I think "sagacious" was one of the words) and told me that the only way
I could wash the soil from my soul was if I brought laughter to
millions of people. She suggested I get started by writing freelance scripts for Charles in Charge, but not until I found an agent.
The thing is, she shouldn't have stolen my heroin. But as I looked down at her battered, cheerleader's body, a bloody twirling baton in my right hand, a dirty hypodermic needle in my left, the only thought rattling around my fevered, junkie brain was whether I could trade her baby for a gun. I wish I could say I hit rock bottom that night. But my moment of clarity wouldn't come until years later when I was doing hard time in a hard prison. I was in the hole, which frankly was hard, when Mother Mary came to me. She was speaking words of wisdom, (I think "sagacious" was one of the words) and told me that the only way
I could wash the soil from my soul was if I brought laughter to
millions of people. She suggested I get started by writing freelance scripts for Charles in Charge, but not until I found an agent.
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