Trust Me, I'm Dr. Ozzy: Advice from Rock's Ultimate Survivor

Trust Me, I'm Dr. Ozzy: Advice from Rock's Ultimate Survivor

by Ozzy Osbourne, Chris Ayres

Narrated by Frank Skinner

Unabridged — 6 hours, 38 minutes

Trust Me, I'm Dr. Ozzy: Advice from Rock's Ultimate Survivor

Trust Me, I'm Dr. Ozzy: Advice from Rock's Ultimate Survivor

by Ozzy Osbourne, Chris Ayres

Narrated by Frank Skinner

Unabridged — 6 hours, 38 minutes

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Wondering if science could explain how he survived his 40-year avalanche of drugs and alcohol, Ozzy Osbourne became one of a handful of people in the world to have his entire DNA mapped in 2010. It was a highly complex, $65,000 process, but the results were conclusive: Ozzy is a genetic anomaly. The "Full Ozzy Genome" contained variants that scientists had never before encountered and the findings were presented at the prestigious TEDMED Conference in San Diego-making headlines around the world. The procedure was in part sponsored by The Sunday Times of London, which had already caused an international fururoe by appointing Ozzy Osbourne its star health advice columnist. The newpaper argued that Ozzy's mutliple near-death experiences, 40-year history of drug abuse, and extreme hypocondria qualified him more than any other for the job. The column was an overnight hit, being quickly picked up by Rolling Stone to give it a global audience of millions.

In Trust Me, I'm Dr. Ozzy, Ozzy answers reader's questions with his outrageous wit and surprising wisdom, digging deep into his past to tell the memoir-style survival stories never published before-and offer guidance that no sane human being should follow. Part humor, part memoir, and part bad advice, Trust Me, I'm Dr. Ozzy will include some of the best material from his published columns, answers to celebrities' medical questions, charts, sidebars, and more.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Audio

A legendary rock star turned advice columnist, Osbourne offers his unique take on life’s everyday problems and predicaments in this hilarious collection of his best pieces from the pages of the Sunday Times and Rolling Stone. Although it’s slightly disappointing that Osborne himself doesn’t read this audio edition, Frank Skinner—who also narrated the author’s memoir, I Am Ozzy—does a commendable job without resorting to a stuttering, marble-mouthed impression of the famously incomprehensible rocker. Skinner also deftly voices the many advice-seekers’ often inane letters, which Osbourne is only too happy to answer in his own special way. Laugh-out-load funny and surprisingly informative, this audio is a must for fans. A Grand Central hardcover. (Oct.)

Publishers Weekly

This highly entertaining and often enlightening (really!) collection of the best q&as from Osbourne’s (I Am Ozzy) popular weekly advice column in the Sunday Times (and sometimes in Rolling Stone) is based on Ozzy’s notoriously excessive lifestyle as lead singer of metal legend Black Sabbath—the book’s disclaimer reads: “Dr. Ozzy’s memory of events between 1968 and the present are not entirely reliable.” But Ozzy writes like the charming, avuncular Muppet-style goofball he displayed in his 2002–2005 reality show The Osbournes. Half of the book features wacky medical questions (“I crushed my finger between two heavy steel pipes: now it’s swollen and black. Do you think it’s broken?”) and equally wacky answers (“This question isn’t as stupid as it sounds, ’cos I once broke my tibia—my shinbone—and I didn’t realize it... because I was off my nut and fell down a flight of stairs”). But the book’s other half—obviously showcasing the knowledge of co-writer Ayres—gives sound and sensitive advice, especially to questions in the areas of drug abuse and mental health. (Q: “I can’t control my anger.” A: “There’s got to be an underlying cause—something in your past, or maybe even just anxiety. Anger is a symptom.”) Who knew that Ozzy really meant it way back in 1971 when he wrote in “Children of the Grave” that people must “Show the world that love is still the life you must embrace.” (Oct.)

Library Journal

Would you take advice from this man? Maybe not, but what a hoot to read this book, drawn from Osbourne's columns in Rolling Stone and the London Sunday Times.

Product Details

BN ID: 2940170264414
Publisher: Hachette Audio
Publication date: 10/11/2011
Edition description: Unabridged

Read an Excerpt

Trust Me, I'm Dr. Ozzy

Advice from Rock's Ultimate Survivor
By Ozzy Osbourne

Grand Central Publishing

Copyright © 2011 Ozzy Osbourne
All right reserved.

ISBN: 9781455503339


How to Cure (Almost) Anything

You’ll Never Be Ill Again… Probably

If there’s one thing I’ve learned as Dr. Ozzy, it’s that everyone wants to be cured immediately—or better yet, three days ago. Luckily for the people who come to me with their problems, I’m exactly the same way. I mean, why go to all the trouble of a low-carb diet, if you can get rid of your gut with a needle and a suction pump? Or why take it easy after an injury, when you can pop a few pain pills and carry on?

As far as I can tell, there’s only one drawback to quick fixes: THEY DON’T FUCKING WORK. Either that, or they sort out whatever’s bothering you, but create another ten problems along the way. Take sleeping pills. For years I had trouble getting any shut-eye, so I started using a popular brand of sleeping medication. Before I knew it, I’d forgotten everything since 1975. The trouble was, my body built up an immunity to the drugs so quickly, I ended up necking a whole jar of the stuff just to get five minutes of rest. That’s when my memory blackouts started, along with a bunch of other crazy side-effects, like wandering around the house stark naked at two in the morning.

What I should have done was find out why I wasn’t sleeping—maybe something was making me anxious—and gone after the cause, not the symptom. But it’s human nature, isn’t it? We’re all tempted by the cheap ’n’ easy botch job, even though we know it ain’t gonna last. That’s why I’ve dedicated this chapter to “instant” cures: urban myths, old wives’ tales, and unlikely stories I’ve picked up on the road… Some of them have worked for me in the past. Others are bullshit. I’ll let you decide which is which.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

What’s the best cure for a hangover, in your (considerable) experience?

Justin, London

This is an easy one: have another pint. You’ll be feeling much better in no time. It took me 40 years of trying everything and anything to make the morning-after feel better—short of actually giving up booze—until I finally realised that the only thing that ever worked was just to get shitfaced again. Like a lot of things, it was obvious in hindsight.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Help! I’ve got a cold. How can I get rid of it ASAP?

Tony, Boston

Funnily enough, getting loaded is also a great cure for the common cold. For example, I used to have this magic recipe for a “Hot Ozzy” (as I used to call it). You take two pints of whiskey, boil it up on the stove, add a bit of lemon—it’s very important, the lemon—then drink it as quickly as you can. Trust me: by the time you’ve downed a Hot Ozzy, you won’t just have forgotten you’re ill, you’ll have forgotten your own name.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I’ve been told that the easiest way to treat athlete’s foot is to pee on your toes—because the chemical in anti-fungal cream (urea) can also be found in urine. Does this work?

Pierre, Ipswich

I don’t know. 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 your local chemist’s. The only problem was the price: it worked out at about three grand a toe. If I’d known about the peeing thing, I might have saved myself some cash.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

What’s the best way to get over jet-lag—quickly?

James, Toronto

They say that if you line the insides of your shoes with brown paper, it cures jet-lag. Unfortunately, like a lot of things people say, it’s bollocks. In reality, there’s only thing that’ll stop your body clock getting messed up, and it’s called staying at fucking home.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

What’s the best cure for “seasonal affective disorder”? I get incredibly depressed every year before the clocks go forward, but I can’t afford to move to the Florida Keys.

Felicity, Doncaster

All you need is a bit of heat and light. If you can’t afford a plane ticket, I’m not sure what to suggest, apart from setting your house on fire—which obviously ain’t a very clever idea.

Dear Dr. Ozzy,

A doctor in Italy says he can cure cancer patients by giving them baking soda. What’s your opinion?

Chris (no address given)

A friend of mine got cancer a few years ago and didn’t want to go through any of the conventional treatments, so he spent months doing all the dead cat voodoo stuff—and now the poor bloke’s dead. Obviously, I ain’t gonna criticise anyone in that position, ’cos if you’ve been told you’ve only got weeks to live, you’re gonna do whatever you think you need to do. But baking power? You’re fixing a tumour, not a cupcake. Also, if it really worked, wouldn’t baking powder be in short supply by now? Personally, my rule of thumb is that if some whacky new treatment sounds too good to be true, it is.

Dear Dr. Ozzy,

According to my great-aunt, nine white raisins, soaked in one tablespoon of gin for two weeks, will get rid of arthritis. Is this right?

Phil, Luton

The Osbourne family has the same recipe, passed down through the generations. In our version, though, there’s only one white raisin, and it’s soaked in nine bottles of gin, for two minutes.

It’s great for pretty much anything.


    Crazy Cures Through the Ages

  • In Egypt, they reckon that being buried in the sand during the hottest part of the day can cure rheumatism, joint paint, and impotence. If you stay out there long enough without water, it can also cure being alive.

  • To treat a stuttering child, Chinese doctors used to recommend smacking the kid in the face—on a cloudy day. If anyone ever tried that on me, they’d get a knee in the balls, n-n-n-n-no matter what the fucking weather was.

  • The only anaesthetic in Medieval England was a potion made up of lettuce juice, gall from a castrated boar, briony, opium, hemlock juice, vinegar, and what passed for wine in those days. I’m pretty sure I had exactly the same cocktail in Miami while on the road with Mötley Crüe in 1984.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Have you ever suffered from heartburn, or acid indigestion? If so, what do you do about it?

Joan, Shropshire

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 realised I’d been going to sleep every night with a lit cigarette in my hand. When I stopped doing that, the problem went away.

Dear Dr. Ozzy,

Please help me—I can’t stop scratching my testicles at night! It’s getting so bad, my wife is threatening to sleep in another room. And now I’ve noticed a red rash, which seems to be spreading to my wider nether regions. Is this “jock itch”?

Ted, Northumberland

Sounds like it to me. The first thing to do is change your underwear. Personally, I find that nylon Y-fronts give me a raging case of ball itch: it’s like they’re on fire, man. Now, I wouldn’t mention this to your missus (if you ever want her to go near you again), but it’s all to do with trapped sweat. So the next thing to do is get yourself some antifungal cream—the same stuff you’d use for athlete’s foot—and it should calm down in a few days.

Dear Dr. Ozzy,

Thanks to your medical wisdom I already know your cure for a cold—a Hot Ozzy—but what’s the best way to prevent one?

Lucy, Bristol

Your local drug store will sell you any old bollocks to “prevent” a cold—they must make a fortune out of virus season—but the fact is, you’ve just gotta ride it out. There’s no harm in having a Hot Ozzy or two as a precaution, though. If it does nothing else, it’ll make your day at work go by a lot faster.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

What’s the most effective treatment for the hiccups?

Lauren, Carlisle

Tony, New York

Extreme pain, combined with the element of surprise.


    The 430 Million Hiccup Man

  • The longest-ever attack of hiccups went on for 68 years—68 fucking years, man!—and was suffered by an American guy named Charles Osborne (no relation). It started in 1922, when he was weighing a hog for slaughter in Iowa, and didn’t stop until 1990. The worst thing is, he dropped dead from an ulcer only a year after he got better. The good news? His hiccups didn’t stop him getting on with his life: he managed to get hitched and have five kids (which proves that anyone can get laid, if they put their mind to it). He was even mentioned in Guinness World Records and Trivial Pursuit. Apparently, this guy hiccupped 40 times a minute in the early days, slowing down to “only” 20 times a minute as he got older. That works out at about 430 million hiccups over his entire life. It’s a good job I never sat next to this guy on a plane, or I’d have pushed him out of the emergency exit after five fucking minutes.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

What’s the best cure for snoring? I need something to shut up my husband, who sounds like a whale with a foghorn stuck in its throat, before I kick him downstairs to the sofa.

Jane, Acton

I used to share a room with a guy who had the worst snore in the world, I swear. One night, I got so fed up with him, I filled up a wastepaper basket with water, put it next to his bed, and told him, “One snore, and it’s going over yer head.” And y’know what? It cured him. Or at least he didn’t dare go to sleep until he was pretty fucking sure I’d already nodded off. Having said that, I’m a terrible snorer myself. So is Sharon. Our 17 dogs snore, too. When all of us are in action at the same time, our bedroom must sound like the London Nostril Choir. It’s never bothered me, though. I’m usually asleep.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Is it really true that chicken soup can help with congestion?

Rita, Germany

Yes—especially if you add gasoline. Seriously though, I’ve definitely heard that there’s a special chemical in chicken soup that breaks up all the gunk in your nose, making you breathe a bit easier… but in my experience it only lasts for as long as you’re eating the stuff. It’s more likely the heat of the food that gets the old snot running.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

What’s the best cure for depression?

“Peter,” County Armagh

It’s tempting to give you a funny response to this, but unfortunately depression ain’t funny: I’ve suffered from it myself. What I did—and what I recommend you do—is talk to your GP. Personally, I’m on a low dose of an anti-depressant called Zoloft (also known as sertraline), and it does the job. Of course, you hear a lot of people say that anti-depressants just put a sticking plaster on the problem, instead of solving the real cause. And they might have a point… but it’s very easy to say that if you ain’t fucking depressed. The only big problem for me with anti-depressants is that they ended my sex life. Trying to get down to some action these days is like trying to raise the Titanic. It would be depressing if I weren’t on anti-depressants. As it is, I don’t give a flying one.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Is it true that “onion syrup”—onions cooked with brown sugar or honey—can help with a cough?

Jamie, Madrid

No idea. I do know that if you eat enough onions, it’ll cure people from wanting to speak to you again.

Dr. Ozzy’s Trivia Quiz: Magic Medicine

Find the answers—and your score—on page 263


Which musical instrument allegedly cures “sleep apnoea” (when you don’t breathe properly at night)?

a) A kazoo

b) A didgeridoo

c) An Auto-Tune machine


What the fuck is “Peruvian Viagra”?

a) A squished frog

b) A well-trained hamster

c) A rare type of bean


The ancient Egyptians treated blindness with…

a) Tickling

b) Sunlight

c) Bat’s blood


Which “cure” for AIDS has actually helped spread the disease?

a) Bonking a virgin

b) Putting the condom on your big toe

c) Smothering your private parts in clarified butter


In the 1960s, psychiatrists treated alcoholics with…

a) Alcohol

b) LSD

c) Hospital-grade laxatives




Severe Headache


Sudden, excruciating bowel pain




Stiff neck


Blurred vision




Have I been listening to NPR?


Did I drive my car into a non-moving object?


What’s the waddling distance to the nearest toilet?


Why did I wear white trousers today?


If I shave all my hair off, will I look like Bruce Willis… or an axe murderer?


Do I have a Viagra pill stuck in my throat?


Am I underwater?


Was the tenth pint really necessary?




Shoot the radio.


Massage forehead with airbag.


Unclench buttocks, prepare for consequences.


Cover bare patches with spray paint.


Wear the cat on your head.


Picture Simon Cowell in a miniskirt (should relieve any swelling).


Do what the officer says, and get out of the fountain, ’cos you’re fucking busted.




“Is a brain transplant expensive?”


“D’you mind if I use your shitter? I may be some time.”


“Tell me, doc: how did you feel when you turned into a slaphead?”


“When I imagined Simon Cowell in a miniskirt, my neck just got stiffer.”


“I think beer gives me astigmatism.”



Have a Fucking Egg

The Truth About Diet & Exercise

One of the saddest questions I’ve ever been asked as Dr. Ozzy came from a middle-aged woman in Worcester—Sally, her name was—who wanted to know if was safe to “Go to work on an egg” (as an old British ad slogan used to say). Someone had told her that yolk was bad news, so she was considering a switch to low-fat bean curds or some bullshit. I could hardly believe it, man. This woman was old enough to remember when it was considered perfectly acceptable to fry bread in lard, or let kids breathe fumes from leaded petrol. And yet she’d convinced herself that one boiled egg was gonna send her to an early grave. I mean, really? Is that how crazy things are now?

The trouble is, it’s so easy to get things out of proportion. I’m guilty of the same thing myself. For example, I recently went through a phase of having egg-white omelettes for lunch as part of a low-calorie diet. Then one day this light blub went off in my head, and I thought to myself, “Y’know what? This tastes like fucking shit.” So I went back to eating normal omelettes, and, low and behold, I didn’t grow five extra bellies overnight. As long as you’re not having a dozen eggs every morning, another dozen for lunch, and another dozen for dinner, what’s the problem? It the same with anything: all you need is a bit of common sense, and chances are, you’ll be fine.

Having said that, common sense has never exactly been one of my fortes. Because of my addictive personality, I tend to do anything and everything to excess. Like when I gave up McDonald’s and switched to burritos, for example. Within 24 hours, I was addicted to the fucking burritos. Or when I gave up being a lazy-arsed bastard and started to exercise, but ended up taking a gram of speed so I could run around the block faster. It’s a never-ending struggle, trying to live the perfect balanced lifestyle if you’re as unbalanced as I am. As a matter of fact, I think it’s hard for everyone, insane or otherwise. But as I always say to people, you should never stop trying. Just take every new day as it comes—and go easy on the triple-decker bacon chili cheeseburgers.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

My daughter announced today that she’s going on the “Five Bite Diet”—ie, she drinks what she wants (if it has no calories) but has only five bites of lunch and five bites of dinner. As a precaution, she’s also taking a multi-vitamin tablet every day.

Should I try and stop her?

Julie, Sunderland

I’ve never heard of this before, but it doesn’t surprise me that it exists. In fact, I tried a similar kind of extreme diet myself once—I called it the “walking corpse” diet, ’cos even though you got thinner, it made you feel like the living dead. And of course it goes without saying that five seconds after I stopped, I put all the weight back on again. I mean, I honestly don’t know what to tell you when it comes to dieting, ’cos I came to the conclusion a long time ago that nothing works apart from eating healthier and eating less, full stop. Catchy-sounding quick fixes are usually good for only one thing: making a shitload of dough for the person who came up with the idea. Bearing in mind that your daughter will probably do the opposite of whatever you tell her, it’s at least worth getting the advice of your GP before she starts sniffing her dinner instead of eating it. That’s the best way to make sure she ain’t doing anything dangerous.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

My doctor has told me that I have high cholesterol. Does that mean I should stop taking cocaine?

Andrew, Los Angeles

Hang on a fucking minute: don’t you think you’re putting the cart before the horse a bit here? I suppose you’re thinking that because the cholesterol gives you a higher risk of a heart attack, the coke might send you over the edge. But you shouldn’t be doing cocaine, full stop—never mind if you’ve got high cholesterol, low blood sugar, a gammy leg, or a runny nose. It’s a like a forty-a-day smoker asking if he should move out of the city to get some fresh air. Where’s the logic, man? Here’s the thing with coke: you can drop dead from it instantly, ’cos you’re buying it on the street, so you never know the fuck’s gonna be in it. It also messes with your head, makes you say stupid things, and can land you in prison. Here’s my advice: if you keep taking the coke, forget all about your cholesterol—chances are, you’ll kill yourself before anything else can.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I can’t stop drinking Coca-Cola. Do you think I’ve become addicted to the caffeine?

David, Staffordshire

I know plenty of people who are addicted to cola—not just the brand name stuff, but the big, cheap gallon bottles you get in a supermarket. It’s not so much the caffeine you get hooked on, though: it’s the sugar. Try switching to a diet brand. Or better yet, have a cup of tea instead.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

My boyfriend goes swimming six times a week and does yoga twice a week, but he’s still getting fat. Why?

Eve, Ireland

There’s only one explanation: he’s eating sandwiches between laps. Either that, or he’s lying to you about the exercise. I recommend hiring a private detective to follow him around for a week. Report back.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Is it really true that you’re a vegetarian now? Have you bitten the head off a lettuce yet?

Paul, Derby

Very funny. And yeah… I’m borderline vegetarian now, ’cos I find it hard to digest red meat. When I’m at home in LA, the woman who works for me—she’s Ethiopian—cooks up veggies on the barbeque with brown rice. It’s spicy, not boring at all, and there’s nothing like a good old curry to unplug a clogged 62-year-old arsehole. Mind you, it’s hard to keep it up when I’m out on the road, ’cos you can’t always get hold of healthy food when you’re so far away from home—although eventually you just lose your tolerance for meat, so maybe I’ll have no choice. In fact, I remember one time in 1968 when one of my old bandmates from Black Sabbath, Terence “Geezer” Butler—the first vegetarian I’d ever met—ate a hot dog in Belgium ’cos he was broke and starving, and it was the only thing he could scrounge that day. The poor bloke was in hospital a few hours later. In fact, I don’t think he took another shit until 1983.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

Is there any truth to the claim that food colouring—which used to be made out of coal-tar—makes kids hyperactive? Or is this just another one of those trendy myths?

Erica, Los Angeles

When I was growing up, no-one cared about what was in the food—calories, preservatives, colouring, or otherwise: we just ate what was on the table, ’cos the alternative was a smack round the ear and going to bed hungry. And have to say, looking back, we were all fucking nuts. I mean, it’s hard to imagine a more hyperactive kid than I was: I spent half the day bouncing off the walls, and the other half bouncing on my bed. Was it the additives? Who knows, man. In a perfect world, we’d all grow our own food. But you can’t exactly grow a fish stick or a can of beans. So my advice is just be careful and make sure that your kids are eating plenty of fruit and veggies.


    Diet—Things to Avoid

  • If you’re trying to stay slim, it ain’t a good idea to take part in Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest, held every year in New York. The last record-breaking winner scoffed 66 hot dogs—that’s 19,600 calories—in 12 minutes. A few hours later, he broke another record for the amount of time he spent on the shitter.

  • I’ve suffered the consequences of a few dodgy curries in my time, but nothing comes close to eating a badly cooked Fugu (“river pig”) in Japan. The fish contains tetrodotoxin, which paralyses your muscles and stops your breathing over a period of 24 hours. There ain’t no antidote, either. So if you get poisoned, it’ll be the worst—and last—day of your life. It’ll ruin your holiday, too.

  • Fast-food has always been a guilty pleasure for me, but if there’s one thing you should probably steer clear of, it’s the “100×100” burger at the In-N-Out chain (you have to special order it). It comes with 100 beef patties, 100 slices of cheese, and costs about $100. That doesn’t include the price of the ambulance you’ll need to call after eating it.

  • If you go to Sardinia on holiday, don’t ever order Casu Marzu. It’s basically a sheep’s milk cheese, the difference being that it’s infested with live insect larvae, which look like wriggly little white worms. I ain’t fucking kidding you. The worst part is, the worms jump up and down, so you’ve gotta put your hand over your plate when you’re eating, otherwise you end up getting ’em in your eyes and up your nose.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I like to drink beer, but I’m getting fat. I hate to think I might have to give up booze just to stay in shape. Is there an alternative to beer that has fewer calories?

Miles, Kailua, Hawaii

Not in Hawaii, there ain’t. It’s all Mai Tais, Zombies, and Hoola-tinis. There’s enough fruit juice and syrup and fuck knows what else in those things to give you three extra chins in the time it takes you to drink one of ’em. The thing is, you can’t have it both ways: you can’t keep drinking and complain about getting fat. Alcohol makes you bloated, period. It’s one of the most calorific substances on the planet. Having said that, if you switch to Mai Tais, you definitely won’t be able to drink as many of them as you could beers. I mean, when I was on the booze, beers didn’t even count, you could knock ’em back so easily. Some people might say, “Try pot,” but then you’ll get the munchies, which is twice as bad. Personally my advice would be to cut down. Or stop drinking altogether.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I love having a full-strength Marlboro before breakfast, but I’ve noticed that the first couple of drags make me want to run to the bathroom and evacuate. Is this normal?

David, Cardiff

If you’re a smoker, why the fuck are you wasting time worrying about your bowels? What about your LUNGS? Having said that: yes, nicotine is a stimulant, so that world-falling-out-of-your-bottom feeling is normal. Why not stop smoking and have a glass of orange juice instead? Y’know, over the years I’ve taken every drug known to man, and I swear, nicotine is the worst. Take it from the Prince of Darkness: cigarettes are evil, man.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I noticed that you worked with a personal trainer during The Osbournes. Did you find it helpful?

James, Scarborough, Maine

Using a trainer helped me keep a routine, which is very helpful, ’cos I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy: I’ll kill myself on the treadmill one month, then spend the next one with my head in the fridge. But at the end of the day, I don’t want to have to make a date in my diary to do exercise. After a while I also got pissed off with a guy standing there in my own house, telling me, “Do another five reps.” I almost punched the bastard a couple of times.

Dear Dr. Ozzy:

I’ve recently decided to slow down on my hedonistic lifestyle and try being healthy, so now it’s all low-fat food and exercise, but when I wake up in the morning, I feel worse than I did before. How long will this last, or should I just return to my old ways?


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All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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