DEA investigators have subpoenaed former child star (and current floozy) Mary-Kate Olsen to gain information about the death of her friend, Heath Ledger. Mary-Kate, however, refuses to speak with the feds about Ledger’s painkiller use or anything else without first being granted immunity. The AP reports:

Olsen’s lawyer has twice refused requests for her to speak with investigators, said the official, who spoke on condition of anonymity because the investigation was ongoing. The lawyer, Michael C. Miller, said the “Full House” actress has nothing to do with the drugs, and has already told the government everything she knows.

“We have provided the government with relevant information including facts in the chronology of events surrounding Mr. Ledger’s death,” Miller said in a statement Monday, “and the fact that Ms. Olsen does not know the source of the drugs Mr. Ledger consumed.”

[…] Police say [the masseuse who found Ledger’s body] spent nine minutes making three calls to Olsen before dialing 911 for help, then called the actress a fourth time after paramedics arrived. At some point during the flurry of frantic calls, Olsen, who was in California, summoned her personal security guards to the apartment to help, police said.

Shortly after the Australian-born actor’s death, Olsen issued a statement that read: “Heath was a friend. His death is a tragic loss.”

While there are lots of things I like about the Swedes–their detective novels, their catchy pop music, and their unique cooking style, among other things–there’s one I didn’t know existed until today:

If you’re Swedish, the government sends you condoms on your 23rd birthday.  Well, one condom (Kung Fu brand) but still.  Apparently that’s the age in that country that you can no longer go to youth health clinics, so the government sends you a condom and a list of new places you can go to with whatever’s ailing you, sexual or otherwise.

[nb: Aside from its obvious ability to stop you from thinking about sex, the ABBA picture above has nothing to do with condoms, but I thought it was worth sharing, anyway.]

No wonder the General Assembly tabled progress on and the Governor vetoed dialogue about medical marijuana compassion centers… just look at what’s happened in California! In this week’s New Yorker, David Samuels offers an insanely long insider’s look at the cannabis culture of California post-Proposition 215 and (the aptly named) Senate Bill 420. Here’s a taste:

One of Captain Blue’s regular marijuana customers was a dispensary in Venice Beach. The store, which has cement floors, a glass display case, and a couch the color of aluminum, looks like a cross between a photographer’s loft and a Kiehl’s boutique. When I last visited, large Mason jars in the display case were filled with designer strains of weed selected by the owner, Cindy 99, whose nickname refers to a variety of designer pot. In a refrigerator, and marked “For medicinal use only,” were treats such as marijuana granola and marijuana milk chocolate with crispy wafers. Above the counter hung a notice: “To our valued patients: in accordance with California law, we are required to add 8.25% sales tax.”

And this excerpt is my favorite:

Growing ganja lets you feel that you’re still living on the edge, especially when you’ve become a little complacent politically. Emily nodded, and took another puff. “The forest is still getting cut down or whatever,” she said, watching the fragrant smoke swirl in the breeze. “But you’re still working out here. You’re still subverting the Man. And you’re getting people high.”

[Full disclosure, since some of our readers have a tough time with sarcasm and send angry e-mails: compassion centers are a really good idea. A ridiculous number of pot-smoking hippies who benefit from the arrangement are merely collateral damage.]

By:   Lissa Jean

Be thankful there are people in this world who enjoy staring at old worms, because if there weren’t, researchers might never have made  this breakthrough in geezer studies.

A team of Stanford scientists have identified several genes which, when tampered with, make worms age faster. Up until now, conventional wisdom held that aging was caused by wear and tear –ingest too many free radicals, stand in front of too many microwaves, and eventually your cells will disintegrate. BUT, as the worms have shown, it’s really more a case of your genetic sequencing getting messed up. Certain DNA transcriptors get lazy (I’m looking at you elt-3!) and as their little mistakes accumulate, you begin to feel worse. Pretty soon, your kidneys don’t work, you’ve got glaucoma, and you pass the time knitting tea dollies and rambling about your glory days as the queen of the Charleston Two-Step.  More after the jump.

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By: Lissa Jean

Remember the good ol’ days? When a crooked doctor could pocket thousands of dollars from a sleazy drug company, and not worry about attracting the attention of Congress?

Well, according to several pharma blogs those innocent times are coming to and end. The Senate Finance Committee is preparing to investigate Dr. Martin Keller, Brown’s head of psychiatry, for plump payoffs he received while researching the antidepressant Paxil. This is just the latest piece of bad news for Keller, whose reputation was recently shredded in “Side Effects,” Alison Bass’s new book about the dirty business of mood elevators.

After such a downer month, I imagine Keller might be tempted to pop a few happy pills. There’s kind of a sweet irony in that, don’t you think?

More info about the investigation after the jump

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