I have been not very happy recently. So rather than wallow in it here, I’m going to talk about things that aren’t boring and depressing.
Of all the celebrity parents, I think Dina Lohan is by far the worst. It’s pretty painfully clear that her failed stardom is being lived out by her children. You saw what a stunning success she did leading Lindsey in the right direction, and now she’s got her other kid preparing to be the new fodder for paparrazzi and a frequent DUI-er/rehabber/whore/complete fucking mess.
This is Ali Lohan one year ago:
And here she is now, looking like Lindsey’s 35 year old sister:
SHE’S FOURTEEN.
Nice. I read some quote where she said something along the lines of “I want to be famous so bad. I have to have it.” I’m taking over/unders on how long until she and Miley Cyrus get caught doing crack and/or meth and then each other on some sex tape. (Miley’s parents might be #2 on the list of lowest forms of life in Hollywood, the way they’re all living off that little girl - that’s a recipe for success.)
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I knew when I saw him at the TomKat wedding that they were scouting him for scientology, and now guess what Jim Carrey said?
“I think there’s a whole new way of healing depression that doesn’t require drugs, but using supplements instead. I’m writing a book about it.” Hmmmm. Sounds suspiciously like scientology anti-psychiatry rhetoric to me. If only all the depressed people would just start taking supplements. Flintstones chewables are the cure, people. The cure!
Here’s the scietologists’ suggested prescriptions:
1 Fred + 2 Wilmas = cure for homosexuality (I have a feeling Tom takes a lot of this one)
2 Barneys+ 1 Fred = cure for depression
1 Betty + 1 Wilma = cure for infertility
2 Bettys + 2 Wilmas = Jada Pinkett’s fantasy
3 Barneys + 1 Bam Bam = Johnn Travolta’s fantasy
I love the scientologists.
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