Lindsay’s home from her drunken slutted-out (??) holiday! She carted her ass back to NYC from Italy over the weekend, literally, and then flew back to sunny LA. Now by now you know my fascination with ghost boobs, but this may be a first. Lindsay is being haunted by ghost ass. Actually this may not be a first. My sick son-of-a-bitch sense of humor could have made this joke about someone else in the past. Between ghost boobs, ghost ass, cameltoe, and open letters to Britney’s stretcher, lips, and crotch it’s really hard to keep up with the inventory of jokes. Personally I like the tags that are gracing Lindsay’s ass. It must be hard to be a tag in Lindsay’s ass. I mean, it must compete with literally tens-of-thousands of freckles. It’s almost like it’s not fair. What’s even more sad is that if Lindsay was bent over just a litttttttle biiiiiit mooooooore we would have experienced a double whammy: Ghost Ass and Cameltoe. Ugh. It’s just not fair. Life’s not fair. Nothing good EVER happens to me. Thanks for nothing Lindsay.
Anyway, Lindsay No Pants/Ghost Ass is back in NYC and was greeted at the airport by her father, Michael Lohan. Where on earth is Dina? Where’s Ali? I need this family together at all times and I need cameras rolling…and then I need that footage aired in a reality type setup on any of the following channels: E!, The Discovery Channel, National Geographic, and/or the Spanish Channel immediately following Sabado Gigante.
Lindsay is back on the wagon and is as boring as ever. But, Lindsay is trying to be a good Christian and follows what the Bible has to say and, clearly, turns the other cheek. Oh! Stop me if you heard it!
Thanks go to Lauren in CA for bringing this to my attention first.