Over the Edge + January 19

An Open Letter to Lindsay Lohan
If 2008 was the year of the potato, 2011 is Lindsay's time

ECATERINA CIUGUREANU
FEATURES EDITOR

Dear Lindsay,

| would like to start by saying that I’m a huge fan of your
work. Your movie Parent Trap, made me desperately want
a twin to the point of plotting against my divorced parents
with my mirror reflection....at 17 years of age. Clearly we
have one thing in common, we are not the brightest bulbs in
the tanning bed. Speaking of tanning beds, you are looking
more and more like Donatella Versace, who is 55 by the
way. | did my best to not pull a Michael Lohan through all
of these years. | stood back when you weighed less than
Paris Hilton’s chiwawa or Nicole Richie’s left boob. When
you were dating Wilmer Walderrama | was hoping it was a
Coyote Ugly moment, which lasted 360 days too long. The
time Dina, your mother, graced Seventeen (which she is
not) to talk about you, | just felt it was your life’s version of
Shit My Mom Says. And when you were driving crazy high
on cocaine in your Mercedes Benz, | smiled at the thought
that girls just wanna have fun. But | will never forgive myself
if | just let you slip away. Tabloids without your SCRAM
bracelet would be skinnier than you in 2005. And most
people wouldn’t even know what a SCRAM bracelet is.
Think about the children, Lindsay! So light up a cigarette,
because we have a lot to talk about, Lilo.

Let’s recap 2010, shall we? You were probably so drunk and
high through this mess you don’t remember anyway. You
started off 2010 by announcing to Access Hollywood that
your New Year’s resolution was to make some changes and
bring us some more positive Lohan mayhem. Well, Lindsay,
the only positive thing in your life is your drug test. Your line
of leggings is a disaster. Why would you charge $60-$130
for a polyester blend? Let’s face it, your leggings are no
‘jeggings’. Your treatment of Samantha Ronson is borderline
abusive, not to mention a deal breaker. Your twitter attacks
demonstrate that your IQ is lower than the four digits of your
clothing line name added together (6126). And then there
was the SCRAM bracelet. Thumbs up for your dedication

to hiding it. Who knew you have more pairs of boots in

your Closet than freckles on your face. Then again, hiding

it might not have been a good idea. Since it’s out of sight
out of mind for you, Lindsay, you just had to have a little
sippy-sip of alcohol at the MTV movie awards. The most

embarrassing part was when
you tried to rationalize your
SCRAM bracelet going off
by saying someone spilled
alcohol on it, which is as
likely as getting pregnant by
someone cumin on your leg.
The infamous court case
was probably the climax of
the Shakespearean tragedy
that is Lindsay Lohan. You
utilized so many defence
mechanisms, Freud could do
a PhD dissertation on your
court transcript. There were
tears, begging, and a twist
(90 days in jail). If you were
as good at acting as you are
at feeling bad for yourself,
you wouldn't have to star in
TV movies such as Labor
Pains. Long story short,

the rest of the year you
spent in jail, in rehab, and
on twitter. All was quiet for
awhile and the media world
suffered. Luckily, just when
Perez Hilton page views
went down 37%, you failed
to disappoint once again.
Not to be outdone by a younger celebrity who punched
somebody and then checked into rehab, Lindsay punched
somebody while IN a rehab facility. | am sure she deserved
it, Lindsay. To put it simply, this year was a success.

Pretty, but crazy

Now onto my advice to you. You are neither the first nor the
last celebrity to go through this and believe it or not, you can
come back from this. Capitalists love redemption. Probably
because it sells. Britney Spears flashed us her vagina

and her head (both hairless), while attacking vehicles and
people with an umbrella. It was like Mary Poppins gone
wild. Then she released a very successful album under

the fitting name of Cirucs. Bristol Palin used to simply

ONLINE SOURCE

be acold case of irony, but after Dancing with the Stars,
she proved that there IS life after love. | think you need a
vacation from this vacation (that is your life). Hop on a jet
plane to India, watch an in flight movie (preferably Slumdog
Millionaire), and get your act together. Oh shoot, you are
currently facing a ban from there. Awkward. Okay, hop ona
plane to Moldova and help homeless dogs there. Get some
perspective, Lindsay, those are bitches whose lives truly
suck.

P.S. Would you like to be best friends?

Sincerely Yours,
Dr. Drew

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