Reports today have stated that Lindsay Lohan will be traveling to India for the BBC, to shoot a documentary on trafficking of women and children in the impoverished country.
Lohan: Helping the children
Lohan’s credits include The Parent Trap, Herbie Fully Loaded and I Know Who Killed Me. This will be her first documentary project.
In other affairs, BBC News released a report in 2007 entitled, “India’s Elite Cocaine Users.”
So okay, there are just a couple of teensy things that your big sistaz here at DISGRASIAN have to say (if we may):
First of all, we can’t condone crime, baby. That shit is not good for our collective AZN rep. Stealing is especially frowned upon (unless it’s of the spotlight, the glory, or some dirty bitch’s boyfriend) because it reads as really desperate, sad behavior. Our peeps—we aren’t desperate! We shouldn’t steal stuff cuz we should have stuff. We don’t need stuff, we’ve got good stuff. And if we want more stuff, we just do reallyreallyreally well at something and get a bunch of money and then buy that stuff. Know what we mean?
Secondly, bravo on turning yourself in. That shows a bit of penance, or at least the smarts to build leverage before you and your buddies get threatened with prison time and beaten and forced to narc like crazy on each other until y’all are facing life without the possibility of parole or something. Did your parents make you hand yourself over to the fuzz? Wait–do your parents EVEN KNOW YOU [ALLEGEDLY] ROBBED A COUPLE OF CELEBRITIES YET?!? Or do they think you’re off at college or something and just not returning phone calls about your grades? If not, whoa, sister. We don’t know you, but our spare room is open if you get released and need to hide/crash somewhere for the rest of your life. Shit.
Third and finally, did you manage to steal anything good? From Lohan’s house, we mean (we’ve got no interest in Patridge’s extensive collection of skanky mini-dresses). There’s gotta be some crazy shit up in that hellhole! Anyway, let us know… we’re, um, just curious!
MICHAEL LOHAN: Eyyyyyy! [points to Ratner] My boyyyyyyyyyyyyys!! Yo!
JON GOSSELIN: It’s so different when you know there’s a camera there.
BRETT RATNER: Right?
MICHAEL LOHAN: Oh. I always know there’s a camera there.
BRETT RATNER: Right.
JON GOSSELIN: So…ah…where are all the fine ladies, or y’know, where are the…?
BRETT RATNER: What’re you talkin’ about bro? There’s so much snatch here you’d think we were robbin’ a bank.
MICHAEL LOHAN: Yeah, I could get some work done in a little orifice space.
BRETT RATNER: I could lick the poon clean.
MICHAEL LOHAN: Yeah, I bet half the girls here screw better than my daughter.
[Astronomically awkward, 9-months pregnant pause]
JON GOSSELIN: I, uh…
MICHAEL LOHAN: Don’t get your panties in a wad, spermy! I’ve never laid a finger on my little girl. You know, right? You’re a father.
JON GOSSELIN: I love my children. I just hated my wife. And my life.
MICHAEL LOHAN: So you know what I’m saying. I think my daughter is an incredibly gifted, talented, mature woman. I’m very proud of her and if any journalist or blogger of Facebooker here wants to put me on record saying that, bring it on.
BRETT RATNER: Yeah. I think she’s super talented too. She looks really good. I’ve been dying to photograph her nude, artfully.
JON GOSSELIN: Oh, you know her?
BRETT RATNER: Oh yeah. I “know” her.
MICHAEL LOHAN: Yeah he does. I bet she fucks real good.
JON GOSSELIN: Um. Michael?
MICHAEL LOHAN: Kidding, Gossie, kidding! You have daughters… you know what I mean!
JON GOSSELIN: I…er… don’t, dude. I don’t think I do.
MICHAEL LOHAN: Ha ha ha!
BRETT RATNER: Man, we are a force to be reckoned with, huh? Bunch of sucessful, powerful, good looking dudes.
JON GOSSELIN: Thanks for noticing! I’ve actually been doing some crunches in the mornings. I don’t know if I would call myself super successful, though. Well, I’ve sorta co-written a book. And I know what you do. But I don’t actually know what Michael does.
MICHAEL LOHAN: I’m a student of life, brah.
BRETT RATNER: Yeah, he’s a student of life, man! Look at him! He’s the man!
MICHAEL LOHAN: You could photograph me nude.
BRETT RATNER: I should cast you guys in a movie! [To Gosselin] You’re part Chinaman, right? And what are you, a Gemini, Aries?
JON GOSSELIN: Chinaman?
MICHAEL LOHAN: You eat rice.
JON GOSSELIN: So do you!
BRETT RATNER: Yes, but [points to himself and Lohan] it’s different when we do it.
JON GOSSELIN: I’m half Korean. I’m also French and Welsh.
BRETT RATNER: “Oh welsh!” Hahaha! I think you could still be a really funny Chinaman.
JON GOSSELIN: I’m not an actor.
BRETT RATNER: That’s what people told Michael, and look at him. That’s what people told me, and look at me!
JON GOSSELIN: Um. Yeah. I’m starting to think that I don’t really want to.
Tila Tequila Twitters. A lot. She joined less than two weeks ago and has already posted over 500 updates and has 67,000+ followers at last count. She claims not to have a ghost Twitterer microblogging for her, but she also claimed to be bisexual just in time for–tada!–her bisexual dating show on MTV, so make of that what you will.
That said, Tila’s Twitter feed is her most interesting work to date. Here are the top ten things I’ve learned from “Twila”:
She is BTF (Best Twitter Friends) with Meghan McCain (@McCainBlogette).
She is always LOL.
Her idols are “Kathryn of Aragon, Anne Boleyn, Queen Elizabeth, Joan of Arc and Tupac Shakur.”
The only person she really hates in the world is Nadya Suleman, aka Octomom, because of the way that “hoebag…smiles when paparazzi’s are swarming her.”
See what I mean? Pretty entertaining stuff. Who knows if a word of it is true, except for the part about Jared Leto being a cunt. That I would never dispute.
“…Tila [Tequila] saw Joel [Madden, and] ran up to him and started acting super flirty-grabbing and hugging him,” a spywitness told The National Enquirer.
“Nicole had her back turned,” the insider continued, “But when she realized that Tila was all over him, she ran up and yelled, ‘Joel..JOEL!”
Nicole pulled Joel away to the couple’s table, but that wasn’t a big enough of a hint for Tila, who continued pursuing Joel in the presence of her pregnant companion. When she tried approaching Joel a second time, all Hell broke loose.
“That was the last straw for Nicole. She got right in Tila’s face and screamed, ‘Back off and get out of here.’”
Tila stood her ground for a few moments, but left the affair red-faced with shame once she realized Nicole’s outburst had made her the laughing stock of the party.
Ooh, the fireworks! Midge versus midge! Stick arms versus stick arms! Famous-for-nothing versus famous-for-nothing! And all over Play-doh-faced Joel Madden–there hasn’t been a celebutard love showdown this worthless since Lindsay Lohan and Hillary Duff duked it out over Aaron Carter!
LUCY: At least people don’t speculate as to whether or not my getting those bit parts was an accident, you old hag.
MARISA: (miffed) I WON FAIR AND SQUARE.
NICOLE: Who did you wear?
MARISA: [to Lucy] You’re a real bitch, you know that?
LUCY: Yes. That’s why I play one so often in movies and TV shows.
NICOLE: God, I need to get back on TV again. I hate being at home and remembering that I procreated with a Madden twin. I hate all this baby holding bullshit. I hate having tits.
LUCY: Love those bubs while you can, Nic–they’re going to be all deflated and saggy when you get to be like ol’ grandma over here.
MARISA: I AM NOT A GRANDMA!
LUCY: Really? Then why are you borrowing my grandma’s look?
NICOLE: Oh, shit!
MARISA: I’ll kill you!
LUCY: Don’t even start. I’ll cut you.
MARISA: [whimpers]
NICOLE: Wow. Are you guys, like, acting?
LUCY: Somebody take this goddamn picture before I cut somebody else.
You have no idea how hard it is to find a photo of you where you aren’t hawking yourself on some pointless red carpet. Or wearing a far-too-aggressive push-up bra. Or jutting your ass out in some schoolgirl outfit/bikini/lingerie number for one of those glossy bathroom semi-jerk-off magazine spreads. Or hosing around with some useless celebutard who seems far too young to be hanging out with you, cuz you look like you’re freakin’ forty-five and apparently you just turned twenty-eight this week. Blegh! Jesus! Don’t you think there might be better ways to present yourself? More to do with yourself? What do you do? Who the hell are you? You’re rounding up towards thirty, for crying out loud! Two years away, but getting there.
Oh, which reminds us. Happy birthday. You’re twenty-eight. You look, uh, great.
