I've long advocated a simple diet to keep hot girls hot. It consists of nothing more than Absolut vodka and ambitious amounts of cocaine. It also isn't a secret that that I believe that rehab is little more than conspiracy to make the goddesses that walk among us plain and ordinary. There's almost nothing as tragic as a spectacular woman brought low, and sobriety does that to redheads with exceptional cans with shocking regularity.In that, Lindsay Lohan isn't just a pioneer, she's also more like Jesus Christ than any other person alive today; persecuted because she is the ideal woman. Verily, the wrongheaded justice system seems to hate her because she's beautiful.
Laugh all you want, but remember that La Lohan has spent more time under the supervision of the justice system for parole violations than O.J Simpson and Robert Blake did for murdering their wives. The cops and the courts of Los Angeles hate Lindsay and everything she stands for, mostly because they're homely, undersexed misfits and should be put to sleep post-haste.
Look, I understand that drunk driving probably isn't necessarily a good thing. I'm certainly not advocating it, particularly since driving unacceptably diverts your attention from drinking. But when a wealthy celebrity with glorious cans is caught driving drunk, you don't sentence her to jail and rehab, which only takes the fun out of them and unfairly punishes the rest of us by depriving us of tales of her almost magical fuck-uppery. You take away their driver's license. Let her take a cab. Of course, the California courts never did that in awful case of People v. Lohan, mostly because Judge Marsha Revel is a half-witted monster.
Judge Revel never understood that Miss Lohan is like a snowflake: Unique unto herself, but still something I'd like to pass my winter days plowing through with my mighty meat shovel. The judge never seemed to understand that Lindsay is unlike everybody else. Her almost incandescent mammeries make her, if not better, then separate and apart, from the rest of us. Her titties make her what Friedrich Nietzsche once described as "Beyond Good and Evil." Without people like La Lohan, California is little more than than a bankrupt bastion of moronically wrong populism, too often governed by washed-up actors, and notable only for it's criminality and illiteracy.
Just days prior to being sent to the Los Angeles County Jail by a remarkably inept and cruel judge that didn't understand that LiLo couldn't attend her juvenile alcohol education classes because she was busy being photographed with lines of cocaine in the south of France, Our Lindsay posed for Maxim magazine. It was almost as if she knew how much people like me, the Everyman and Ubermench alike, would miss her magnificent milkbags during her unjust 180 days in various locked-down facilities.
And, almost as if by magic, the very week that those photographs were published online, Judge Revel recused herself entirely from the Lohan matter. No bars or magnetically-locked steel doors could long contain Lindsay's heroic hooters from exacting justice at long last.
Justice, my friends, may finally be upon us. Because Sheriff Lee Bacca understood LiLo's situation to be silly beyond words, he released her after thirteen days of her three-month sentence. And now, Lindsay might also be freed from the demonic clutches of rehab before it destroys her.
However, a horrible price has already been paid by all of us. Because of Revel's feckless and wrong sentence, we'll never see Lindsay Lohan portray cocksucker extraordinaire, Linda Lovelace, in the forthcoming biopic, Inferno. All this is left to us of that splendid dream are the publicity shots taken before everything went wrong.Where else will solid, upstanding men - actual heroes of the working class - ever hear Lindsay reciting the following lines?
-“To me, there is nothing more delicious than gism (sic). I love it! I like to smear it all over my face like Ponds Cold Cream!”
-“Is there anything in this life I like more than cocksucking? Okay. Well, one thing. On OCCASION. I love it when my man Chuck socks it to me in the ass.”
-“I once took on a pro football team—and I don't just mean two at a time! I mean more!"
I was born in 1970, and Lindsay was brought into this world in 1986. But I spent my entire childhood thinking that one day a girl just like her would say those things on the silver screen. And I have been foiled and defeated. My childhood was for naught.
Sure, there's always the possibility that I could date Miss Lohan and make her my bride, but that's a thin reed to hang my hopes upon. After all, Toronto is very far away from Hollywood and Lindsay is reported not to like bloggers very much.
Inferno could have been to revelatory jerking-off what Citizen Kane was to fine art, but Marsha Revel had to ruin it. Instead, we were left with this;
I've spent the last five years anxiously waiting to see Lindsay Lohan on a big screen talking about smearing jism on her face like Ponds Cold Cream and having it socked to her in the ass. That might be the only reason that I've lived this long, despite my weariness of spirit and the almost constant chest pains. But it has been denied to me because of the capriciousness of one homely, bureaucratically-minded hack of a Los Angeles judge, who has since found fit to remove herself from the proceedings entirely.
The world is a cruel place. There is no fairness, and there certainly isn't any justice. If there was, I'd be able to get Joan, RightGirl, Wonder Woman, De, both of the Zombie Girls Online and my favorite commenter, Powdergirl to send me naked videos of themselves reciting the majestic dialogue from Inferno, preferably all in one shot as they kiss and fondle one another. But that will almost certainly never happen because I'm doomed. I won't be allowed to die happy, and for that I blame Judge Revel.
If any of you have small children, you should sit them down and read them this little essay. It's best to cure them of ideas that life will work out the way they expect it to before they can walk on their own. If they're reconciled to life's petty sadisms early, they might just adjust to it and live otherwise normal lives.
Always know that there's nothing worse than having your idealism crushed at 40. My life is ruined, but your children can still be saved.
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