Super broke former actress Lindsay Lohan is offering to show up at weddings, holiday parties, birthday bashes, quinceaneras for a price. And that price is whatever it costs to buy twice as much alcohol as you were planning on buying because she’s def gonna drain your open bar (and probably hook up with your one “weird” cousin).
I don’t know what she actually does at these parties, but if Herbie Fully Loaded taught us anything, it’s that it’s probably going to be really really terrible.
I’m rooting for Charlie Sheen to get his shit together, I really am. Certainly texts along these lines aren’t a good sign:
He may have ditched the cocaine and the goddesses and the tiger blood, but he’s cavorting with something even more dangerous to his career: Tara Reid. In the dictionary next to the word “trainwreck” you’ll find a picture of a railroad accident, then you’ll actually notice that you’ve spelled it wrong and it’s two words. If there’s a letter (b) in the dictionary entry there’s gonna be a picture of Patrick Monahan and his band mates getting drunk. The point of this story is that if I were writing the dictionary Tara Reid would be at the top of that list. Oh and also, I’d only use pictures in my dictionary. You know why? Cuz screw words, that’s why.
Moral of this terribly told story: ix-nay on the ara-Tay, Charlie. She is not WINNING.
Yesterday Charlie Sheen stopped banging his goddesses and talking about winning long enough to send a crazy anti-Semitic text to his ex-wife Brooke Mueller. I’m not talking a “hey, Jews have curly hair and don’t pick up a tab” kind of anti-Semitic text…. this had more of a Mel Gibson tone and a John Galliano sentiment. It was bad. Later, Mr. Tigerblood claimed that he never sent the text, rather, Brooke sent it from his phone to frame him.
First of all, Charlie, phones don’t work like that. You can’t just send a text from another person’s phone without having the phone in your possession. Maybe somehow you can, because you’re a warlock and not of this terrestrial realm, but the rest of us can’t.
Secondly, Brooke Mueller has come out with an ALIBI!! (You go, girl!!). Brooke says at the time when the text was sent, she was (drum roll please)… filming a reality show with Paris Hilton. Oh. Wow. Well I think the courts will determine that this alibi is clearly verifiable because really, who would admit to that if it wasn’t true. How embarrassing, right?! Say you were taking a dump… googling yourself incessantly*… farting in an elevator… accidentally misplacing your clip-in hair extensions at a wine tasting party. Pretty much anything is less humiliating than “filming a reality show with Paris Hilton”. You’re a brave woman, Brooke!
Charlie Sheen is finally in rehab! Apparently his dad asked him to go and you don’t not do what Martin Sheen asks you to do… this is POTUS we’re talking about. He says “jump”, Bradley Whitford asks “how high?” He says “quit doing blow with porn stars”, Charlie Sheen asks “ok, but how ‘bout crack with hookers?”
Now the big question is, what will happen to the price of cocaine while Charlie is in rehab? If Econ 101 taught me anything, I know that this immediate and drastic decrease in demand will surely lead to a decrease in both price and quantity of cocaine nationwide. Are we prepared to let our coke-whores snort cheap, sub-par cocaine? Should the government step in and stabilize the market by subsidizing the commodity until Charlie is back in the game? Let’s just all pray for his speedy recovery so that we don’t face yet another economic downturn.
Lindsay Lohan is being released from her court-ordered rehab today. The big question everyone is asking is “what should she do now?!” Actually, not that many people are probably asking that. Apparently she’s launching a website and I think we can all agree that that’s a pretty shitty start to a big comeback. Launching websites is so “2010”. It’s 2011 now… she should invent a robot that will launch a website for her. Or take a spaceship to outerspace and launch her website from the moon. We’re living in the future now, people. Time to think outside the atmosphere.
If you haven’t been paying attention, here’s a recap (and no, I’m not making any of this up): Randy Quaid and his wife Evi are currently on the run in Canada from a gang of wild killers called the “Star Whackers” who they say are responsible for the deaths celebs like Michael Jackson and Heath Ledger and for some reason these two believe that they’re next on the list.
Well that all sounds reasonable. Once you knock off the most famous pop singing sensation of all time and a beloved Oscar-nominated actor, Cousin Eddie and his bride seem to be the obvious next choice. The only reasonable move these two wackaloons have made was hitting the road for Canada. Canada sucks. If the Star Whackers do exist I’m sure they’re like “Canada? No way. That’s where I draw the line.”
Some psychologists have chimed in on the case, saying the couple may be suffering from a psychological condition they call “folie a deux” — a French term meaning literally “the madness of two” — a condition in which two people have a twisted take on the world. Do you think psychologists ever get bummed out when they realize they’ve incurred $250,000 of school loan debt just to state the totally obvious?
The Night Before Thanksgiving! It’s like St. Patrick’s Day but without the stupid outfits made up of whatever green shit you have in your closet. The biggest drinking night of the year is here, so I’ve decided to write my fan mail today to someone who would really enjoy our pre-holiday holiday, Amy Winehouse. Here’s why I think she should be my drinking buddy tonight:
1. Amy’s is the kind of girl who could drink with you all night and then when you walk through the McDonald’s drive-thru at 2:30am and order a large #2 Extra Value Meal and a couple Snack Wraps she’s not gonna try to eat all your fries. It’s one of the few bonuses of hanging out with an anorexicy person.
2. She just got a pet monkey who would obviously hang with us all night.
3. I couldn’t write to Charlie Sheen two days in a row.
Here’s a little song I wrote that summarizes my plans for this evening:
Gotta love the latest Charlie Sheen debacle. So now the porn star (hooker) is suing the actor (trainwreck) for false imprisonment and assault and he’s suing her for extortion. I’m no algebra whiz but I think those cancel each other out. Let’s just call it even and move on already!
Here’s the thing: it’s Charlie Sheen. You don’t go to Taco Bell and complain when you get diarrhea, do you? It’s just Charlie being Charlie… he’s the Miley Cyrus of adult men… he can’t be tamed!
I say Charlie needs to have an extended affair with a certain Ms. Betty Ford while Capri needs to disappear from the limelight because if one more G.D. hooker/call girl/mistress gets a reality TV show/book deal/CAA representation I swear to you someone’s* gonna hear about it!