I like to drink my strong-imported-from-San-Francisco-french-pressed-coffee and read the morning news made out of paper. This morning I discovered that these days I care very little about the latest bullshit from Bush, Baghdad and Barack. What compels me is the front-page news of Lindsay Lohan's cocaine 'n' alcohol Memorial Day weekend binge. I scan the Iraq Casualty/Hillary Clinton headlines, but read the entire article about Lindsay Lohan's fuck-ups. And I love it. I want more from Lindsay. I want Lindsay to wrinkle early, to burn visible cocaine holes in her face, to get fat. This is front-page news in America. I don't want to be sad and frustrated that poor kids who want to go to college on the GI bill are being killed along with thousands of darkies in the Cradle of Civilization. I want to feel good about myself. And knowing that Lindsay, Paris & Brittney appear to be empty vessels of insecurity, self-loathing and saddness, makes me feel good about myself!
Love The UkuLady
PS: I'm also compelled by the Food section. I like it when the restaurant critics hate. I like the expensive fussy-food restaurants to be ripped apart and the cheap taco trucks & pie shacks, celebrated.
PPS: Unfortunately Lindsay's latest debacle will only earn her more money as no publicity is bad publicity. If only she'd give some of her endorsement cash to the homeless junkies who can't afford the outrageously-priced rehabs; instead she purchases thousand-dollar tee-shirts to wear with No Underwear.
PPS: I just called Promises Rehab Center and they refused to tell me how much they charge per day. And their website does not offer that information. If you have to ask, you can't afford it.
PPPS: I feel like a real Beat Reporter doing actual blog-research to give my readers the price of Lindsay's rehab center! I feel smugly self-satistfied, pleased with my brief foray into real fact-finding.
PPPPS: I'll continue the rehab-price-research, but not right now.