Fun With Grammar--Lindsay Lohan Edition

After taking one look at this picture my friend pretty much summed it up when she said, "Try making that face without first face planting into a big, fat line of coke." I did, and you can't. For reasons that are pretty much summed up by the above photo, the Beverly Hills police issued a warrant for Lindsay Lohan's arrest today. Actually, it's related to her 2007 hit-and-run DUI arrest. Evidently, she failed to complete the terms of her sentence (Say No To Booze class, community service, etc.) and now she's big time fucked.

I take that back. I'm sure she'll pay a fine, press #1 on her speed dial and hit up her dealer on the way home from the court house, but in the mean time she decided to issue a statement through perezhilton.com, and for that I am eternally grateful. This is why people who spent their formative years learning to tap dance and survive solely on celery and Diet Red Bull hire publicists. Granted, Lindsay's career hasn't exactly been on an upswing lately, so maybe it came down to her spokesbitch or her besty (an 8-ball) and she chose the latter. Whatever the reason, she took it upon herself to defend her honor and, in the process, made the English language cry tears of shame and disbelief. Here's what she said:

"This warrant for my arrest is completely fabricated and its a horrendous lie. This will make me loose every single deal that I have right now. Its horrible."

Oh, Lindz, "its" vs. "it's" is a common enough mistake and we can almost let that one go, but let's be real. The "horrendous lie" is that you had any deal to "loose." Any 12-year-old with a used handycam and a dream would laugh you out of his mom's basement. (Sidenote: In middle school my friend Gerd and I would recreate entire episodes of Friends, but it came to blows over who had to play Ross. I said that she was a whiny little bitch, and therefore wouldn't have to dig very deep. She, in turn, pointed out that if that's how I wanted to play it, my utter lack of anything resembling tits disqualified me from playing any of the girls. Touche, bitch.)

The second I read this I called "BULLSHIT!" and the BHPD did the same, because they issued a response shortly thereafter that said,

"In response to media inquiries, [the] Beverly Hills Police Department is confirming a warrant was in fact issued for the arrest of Lindsay Lohan. The $50,000 warrant issued by the Beverly Hills Superior Court stems from a May 2007 arrest of Miss Lohan for DUI and hit-and-run. The circumstances leading to the issuance of the warrant by the court are not readily available at this time. It is our hope that Miss Lohan will surrender herself so that this matter will be resolved in a timely manner."

As my friend "Ann Coulter" would say, this bitch exists solely as a cautionary tale for others, and Miley Cyrus needs to take a long, hard look in the coke dusted crystal ball that is Lindsay Lohan's face, see her future, and have a serious conversation with herself. Otherwise, her bad trips are all going to involve Lindsay visiting to her like the Ghost of Piss Poor Decisions Past, and that shit would make anyone go straight out the window.

This post is slightly overdue. I started it last week, but one of my girls got dumped and there was whiskey involved. Then it snowed in Atlanta and there was more whiskey involved. Anyway, I figured good, old fashioned, populist outrage has a shelf-life of at least a week, right? So here we go:

At this point, waxing indignant about Wall Street welfare queens squandering money at a rate that all but ensures my grandchildren will be speaking Mandarin is as original as calling Lindsay Lohan a fake-lesbian-coke whore, but I can't help myself so please bare with me. TMZ, that bastion of investigative journalism, reported that Chicago-based bank, Northern Trust, gave an enthusiastic "fuck you" to all measures of common sense, decency, and shame by hosting an AIG inspired retreat for several hundred of its customers and employees. You know, the ones they hadn't already laid off.

According to a NYT article, Northern Trust "got $1.5 billion in bailout money and then laid off 450 workers, flew hundreds of clients and employees to Los Angeles last week and treated them to four days of posh hotel rooms, salmon and filet mignon dinners, music concerts, a PGA golf tournament at the Riviera Country Club with Mercedes shuttle rides and Tiffany swag bags." Are you throwing shit yet? Save some, because it gets better. On top of the untold millions it cost to sponsor the PGA event, they paid the band Chicago $100,000 to perform; then, apparently not satisfied with one geriatric talent show, ponied up to rent a private hangar at Santa Monica airport for a lavish dinner complete with a performance by Earth, Wind and Fire; and, finally, they rented out the House of Blues to the tune of $50,000 for an intimate concert with Sheryl Crow. Sheryl's spokesbitch declined to comment on how much she charges for federal government contract work.

There's a lot to love in this story, but my personal favorite is Northern Trust's apparent attempt to outdo Chris Brown for the title of "Weakest Fucking Excuse Ever." The bank issued a statement essentially arguing that it's all kosher because they hadn't asked the government for the money. I only got a B+ in Intro to Economics but, to me, that begs the question: THEN WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TAKE IT?! That is essentially the same excuse I tried with my mom when my 19-year-old ass got "pre-approved" for a Master Card and thought it would be a good idea to spend $2000 on an iPod, Smirnoff Green Apple Vodka (kill yourself, I was 19) and Seven jeans. "But, Mom, I didn't ask for the card, they just gave it to me! What did you want me to do?" Do you think that shit worked on Carla? Hell fucking no! After she got done chasing me with the rolling pin, she sat me down and had real talk about the fact that I had "champagne taste on a beer budget" and needed to get on over it with the quickness.

I'm a barely literate waitress, but even I can tell you that somewhere a bloated, no-count, probably corrupt oversight board aren't doing their motherfucking job. I refuse to believe that the country that gave us the Declaration of Independence, Google, and Kelly Clarkson cannot figure this shit out. And if we can't, then fuck all and let's everybody just buy some ammo and move to the compound, because I wouldn't trust people that incompetent to manage my local Dairy Queen, let alone put any number of them in a room with the red phone, or red button, or whatever the hell it is we're supposed to be afraid of this week. What these bitches need is the federal government version of Mama Carla. I nominate Donna Brazile. Obama should appoint her Deputy Secretary of Common Goddamn Sense and give her carte-blanche to lay down the financial pimp hand on anyone caught pulling this bullshit. Ask Anderson Cooper, baby doesn't play.

In short, I would like to offer Congress and the Obama Administration the sage wisdom my mother imparted to me: Tighten up that game. Quickly.