An Open Letter to Lindsay Lohan

Dear Lindsay Hot Ass Mess,

HAM, consider this your intervention. Please concentrate more on putting on a bra than eating tuna, or maybe put some of Sam's money towards an ATD system because the folks at "Bag, Borrow or Steal" are getting suspicious since the last time someone stole everything. They're going to cancel your account sweetie, trust me.

Stop smoking your shitty Marlboros in Kitson, I want my clothes to smell like my smoke, not yours. Speaking of which, when you're shopping there, stop acting like Cuntasaurus Rex to the paparrazzi. No one is saying they aren't annoying, but I've seen and heard them laughing at you, and honestly - it is funny.

You should be aware that it says something when people look at me, the man who just last night offered to buy a cop a Coors Light because he was too drunk to tell who he was talking to, and say "You could probably help Lindsay Lohan, the poor thing." So here's my offer: if you need some guidance I can show you how to behave with class and dignity if you come visit me in Boston. The catch is of course I will drag you to every bar and say "This is my friend Lindsay Lohan."

But don't you dare bring Sam, there are enough dykes in this city. Not that she'll be around much longer anyway as we're going to get you back to men ASAP - though by looking at her I'd say a pack of cigs and a Vicodin and you'll be back on track.