Long overdue is a Pop Skank review. I have resisted it for months – far more important things going on, new wanderings and ponderings, etc. – but I’ve given myself a brief window to plumb the depths of sex-talk and such, so I’d better get this done.
Those of you who know me well know that I have an irrational crush on Lindsay Lohan. I don’t really get it – overall I consider myself to have fairly refined, almost neurotic-fussy tastes. But something about Lindsay Lohan snaps a circuit breaker in my head. Luckily, it’s wearing off with her latest antics. She’s hanging out with Britney Spears, for Chrissakes… this is a problem.
Lindsay appeals to my inner Shadow – somehow the dark idea of spiraling out of control with her in a hotel somewhere is more than a little appealing. You know, just lounging around in some high-rise and having sushi and cocaine and Diet Pepsi delivered until one of us leaves in a bag. Here’s a gorgeous girl who makes no apologies for being a smacked-out, poorly-nourished, drug-addled, sex-addicted little snot, and there’s something to be said for that. It could be fun for a few days, no? Come on guys – be honest.
But, the bloom is coming off my Lohan rose, so to speak, now that she’s running around with undesirables like Britney. Britney, a used-up ignorant hick who has taken to gratuitous displays of her naughty bits for the sake of staying in the public “view,” makes me more nauseous than ever. (And then, to keep the story alive, apologizing for it today.) I mean, any hebephile worth his salt knows how cruel the latter stages of puberty can be, but Britney took it to a new level. Yikes – could someone just throw that trash into the garbage truck, please?