Here’s a future best seller making its way and it comes courtesy of media whore du jour Lindsay Lohan who according to page 6 has let on that she may choose to blog about her upcoming stay at rehab.
page6: We hear the troubled actress is in talks with Web site Celebuzz to detail her deepest thoughts after her 90 days of court-ordered rehab. We’re told Lohan would contribute content beginning in August, after the rehab stint, which will reportedly start Thursday at the Seafield Center in Westhampton Beach. Her next step would be to launch her own site with her musings on art, fashion, music and movies. Lohan was expected to meet with Celebuzz editors to hash out ideas, but their consultant A.J. Daulerio tells us, “I’m still waiting for the official grooming session.”
Hmm, could you imagine how this shit would go?
Day 1: Breakfast. Came across some Tide detergent powder and sniffed that shit cause my nostrils were flaring. Got a weird high and a pretty obnoxious burn down the back of my throat. Note to self, take it easy on that shit in the future. Must drink more chamomile tea to down that shit. Weird deranged psycho in the back of the room keeps staring at me, must remember to smash their head in with Evian bottle when no one is looking. Strange no sign of paparazzi anywhere. Wonder what gives?
Day 1, lunchtime: Managed to convince head teacher that adderall is still the good shit and I’m sucking on those suckers and gently bouncing as teacher explains the source of all my existential pain. Wondering what to do with all them empty plastic baggies dangling in my undies?
Day1, afternoon siesta: Trying to memorize lines for my next tmz healine. Not sure whether I’ll steal a Ferrari this time or just beat someone half as good looking as me over the head. Just got to make that shit dramatic as usual. Wondering if I should snort another pound of that Tide detergent. Starting to get restless being locked away from myself.
Day 1, dinner at last. Asked if I could add a smidgen of the good moonshine into my cherry cola and I think head teacher might say yes if I continue laying on the charm. Fried chicken wings are the worst, you have to watch out for the wish bone when you snort that shit.
Day 1 bedtime. Daddy Lohan just tried to call me to check up on me. I don’t know why he just never gives up. Then again we do have a parasitic love relationship. Let me chew on some more adderall pills whilst i slow gyrate on my headphones to last week’s memory of me splurging at some inner city nightclub after hours party. ps all them bixches are jealous locked away with me are jealous that I managed to score my own rehab suite. Suck my balls bixches!
Yes this is going to be the best seller that is going to set me free and bring the world back to my feet. Isn’t it so wonderful being a martyr to oneself? I think I can feel one of those chicken bones poking at the back of my throat. Pfff….
above image found here