I guess this letter has been a long time coming and a little too late, but that’s only because I thought that, unlike Twitney Spears, you would be the one to actually go to rehab and come out clean. Silly me. That’s a lot like taking a math test and trying to decide whether to cheat off of the fire extinguisher or a Chihuahua.
Silly of me indeed.
I guess your “alcohol monitoring” anklet failed to do its job and was about as useful as strapping two midgets to your leg with duct tape. I wonder how many DUIs you have to have to get a government issued ball gag? That would certainly be more efficient and would definitely hinder your ability to drink; however, even with a ball gag, I can’t seem to shake the visual of you sipping your red bull and vodkas through your nose.
Speaking of nose…..cocaine in your pockets huh? Brava! Oh except they weren’t yours because they weren’t your pants. Come on now Lindsey. You can get a better excuse than that. You’re supposed to say that you don’t know where your pants even came from and that last you checked, you were wearing shorts. You didn’t even attempt to throw them out the window and make a run for it without your shirt on. Don’t you watch Cops?? Amateur.
Well …I guess the only good thing that can come out of this is the fact that Britney is going to be pissed that you one-upped her shenanigans this week. I’m pretty sure next week we’ll see Britney getting arrested for the murder of Carrot Top and eating a live chicken…naked….in front of a preschool.
One can only wish.
Dear Dina Lohan,
First, please accept my apologies for bothering you with this letter. Lord knows you’re really busy trying to recapture your youth through your daughter. I merely wanted to point out the fact that while you were occupied with borrowing your daughter’s clothes and partying at all the Hollywood hot spots, your just turned 21 year old daughter has already gone to rehab and is driving around town drunk with cocaine in her pocket. I didn’t know if you were aware of this because I know how making appearances on Access Hollywood and Entertainment Tonight can get in the way of time with the family. (And no, sniffing lines with your daughter doesn’t count as “family time.”)
I just thought I’d give you a friendly reminder that maybe its time to go home, put some curlers in your hair, bake some cookies and chain your daughter to the radiator in the basement.
It’s called parenting.
Dear Promises Rehab,
I don’t mean to question your methods but I’m pretty sure having your patients read old issues of Highlights and telling them to pay special attention to the Goofus And Gallant section doesn’t qualify as rehabilitation.
Like I said, I’m no expert but I have a feeling that being rehabilitated at Promises is a lot like a gay man marrying a transsexual and claiming that he’s cured from the gay.
(Let the joke sink in for a minute. It makes sense I promise.)
Whew. I reached hard for that last joke.
I couldn't ignore the Lindsanity this week so I caved and joined the Lindsey Watch bandwagon. Seriously. What happened to the days when celebrities would get coked up AT HOME and choke on their own vomit IN PRIVATE. Even Jimi Hendrix gave us that courtesy. What's wrong with shooting television sets, taking prescription drugs and passing away on the toilet ala Elvis? What? Are you better than Elvis?? I think not.
Can't these chicks get their nose blow to go? Or hey! How about hiring a driver?
Oh well. No one ever accused these gals of being rocket scientists. (I would say Nasa but they got a little diaper wearing Britney nutcase of their own too.)
Anywhoo. I’m broke everyone!!! Isn’t that a great way to start a weekend!?!?!
"MONEY make take away my ability to be a consumer but it won’t take away MY FREEDDOOMMM!!”
Well…actually…it kind of does, a little bit.
So let me rephrase that statement:
“Donations are WELCOME!!!!”
Ah. Much better!
Oh and because I'm a giver. Here's your new desktop wallpaper:
(insert Twilight Zone theme music HERE). You can thank me for the nightmares later.
Have a great weekend everybody!!!!!