transcripts of messages left by Charlie Sheen on Denise Richards' answering machine about a year ago (when Richards was pregnant with daughter Lola) have been released in legal documents..
Tuesday, April 19, 2005, 11:28 a.m.
Yeah, I just got Laura’s letter regarding everything, blah, blah blah, and I can’t get a hold of my lawyer so I thought I would try to call you directly. Um, it’s really f–king sad. It’s just sad and I am really angry and I don’t think it’s f–king fair, and I don’t know what you’re trying to do and I just, um, am so disappointed in you. I’m so disappointed. You’re such a f–king disappointment. You’re such a f–king asshole and if this time you want to f–king deal with each other, you know, you’re saying one thing and then you do the other and it’s just, you know, f–k you.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005, 12:46 p.m.
I guess I should just get used to the fact that you know you fire off your nonsense and your lawyer bulls–t and your f–king emails, and then you don’t answer the phone and, you know, you don’t have the f–king courage or the wherewithal to, like, confront me or deal with me or just be f–king honest and forthright. And I guess I just gotta stop being disappointed by that because that’s just who you are and what you do, and I guess once I accept that I won’t be frustrated by your chickens–t f–king behavior, so whatever. I’m just really f–king mad and you owe me a phone call. OK. ‘Cause, again, if I did the same s–t to you, you’d be f–king furious. All right, so whatever.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005, 1 p.m.
Yeah, I just got your other e-mail and I am a little confused because, ah, you told me that was something you only told a couple of people and this and that, and I just — again, you continue to be deceitful and mischievous and sneaky and you’re a f–king liar. OK. You’re a f–king liar so you know what it’s like. . . . F–k you. OK, I hope you rot in f–king hell. You’re a piece of s–t of s–t-f–king liar and I hope you f–king rot in hell. So f–k you. I hope I never f–king talk to you again, you f–king c–t. F–k you. You’re a coward and a liar and a f–king n-gger, all right. So f–k you.
Tuesday, April 19, 2005, 4:08 p.m.
Hey, I am going to go home early, so if you wanted to come back early, go ahead. I just hate to leave early and then you come home and then I hear from Laura in a letter that costs me, you know, five grand, that you know I didn’t let you know I was leaving early. So I’m gonna leave early. OK? D–k face. That’s what I’m gonna do. Goodbye.
Tuesday, April 19, 2006, 5:41 p.m.
You know, if you don’t have the balls or the courage to f–king call me back after you do your sniveling f–king bulls–t crap through your f–king sniveling bulls–t lawyer. Two pregnant c–ts like plotting against the rest of us. I just think it’s just f–king low you can’t even, like, return my f–king call. You know, it just says so much about you. It just says so much about who you are and I’m not surprised anymore. OK. So whatever. I hope I never talk to you again. You’re a f–king creep. F–k you.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005, 12:50 p.m.
You need to call me back. OK. I need to figure out when I am gonna see Sam. What’s going on there? You can’t do these things and then hide. OK. So I am going to meet my lawyer today and I’d like to talk to you ahead of time because there’s some things that you did that I need to know about to discuss, so the least you could do is give me the courtesy of a phone call and don’t be a f–king coward a–hole. If I was doing this to you, you’d be livid. OK. So I’m gonna start doing some s–t and you know, have fun getting a hold of me. OK. If this is how you want to play, fine. Call me.