Fugger: Lindsay Lohan

Freaky Fugday


Lilo here has been hanging out with Kanye — well, she went to Kanye’s fashion show (excuse me, KANYE’S FASHION SHOW) in Paris, which means at the very least that she has been TRYING to hang out with Kanye.  While I fear that any Lohan-West union will end in CAPSLOCK and tears (TEARS), wouldn’t it be awesome if Kanye turned out to be Lindsay’s Get-A-Grip friend and savior?

I feel like the first thing he would do would be sit her down and introduce her to his friend, Downy Wrinkle Release (WRINKLE RELEASE).

And then I think he’d ask the question that’s on all of our minds:

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FugLo


I mean…

Do we think, at this point, that Lindsay is trying to tempt Hugh Hefner into giving her lodgings so that she doesn’t have to pay any rent?

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I Fugged Who Killed Me


Oh, LINDSAY LOHAN.

Of all the BAD IDEAS you’ve ever had, those shorts have got to me — wait. Even I can’t make that argument. But still. They’re bad.

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Confessions of a Teenage Drama Fug


“Hey, Lindsay Lohan, you literally JUST completed being under house arrest for violating the terms of your probation agreement from your second DUI, as well as your three hundred and sixtieth trip to rehab! What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to HANG OUT AT A BAR IN HOLLYWOOD FOR FIVE HOURS but it’s okay because I’m wearing my most grown-up looking coat dress. If I’m dressed like Bette Davis in one of those movies where she has a brain tumor that everyone decides to keep from her in favor of just shooting one another agonized looks over the good china, maybe no one will notice that THIS IS A REALLY BAD IDEA and in fact the only way I am ever going to dry out is if YOU SHIP ME TO THE MOON or maybe a deserted island where I’d have to make my own booze from coconut shells and smashed up palm tree fronds. But don’t worry! Don’t worry! Despite what you might infer from the fact that my father is on Celebrity Rehab With Doctor Drew despite being neither a celebrity nor even a “celebrity,” my family and team are TOTALLY good at figuring out how to deal both with my MASSIVE PERSONAL PROBLEMS and the fact that my career is RUINED. THEY JUST HAVEN’T GOTTEN AROUND TO IT YET! SO WHY NOT PARTY IN THE MEAN TIME??!?!?! THIS IS AN AWESOME PLAN!”

[Photo by: Splash]

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Well Played, Lindsay Lohan?


So now Lindsay Lohan has decided she wants to drop her last name and just go by “Lindsay”? Girl, two things: You are not Cher, nor Charo, nor Bjork, nor Madonna; and that is a really lame way to flip off your father, because in the end, the joke is on you. However, I have to admit, you look better here than you have in a long time:

Right? I mean, half the time, her facial expression on the red carpet is one of a person whose sedative has just worn off. So this is a major step forward, given that she’s at least trying to be cheerful. If it’s not outright well played, it’s at least much better.

Although, this being Lindsay, I can’t help but treat her dress like a Rorschach test.  Up by her boobs there’s a ferocious-looking feline shape, and then down by her crotch the same feline seems to be drooping, sad. I’m assuming the dress is not trying to make a comment on the condition or quality of her genitals, so instead I’m going to call it a depiction of the fierce/tragic duality of her inner demons.

Then again, she would probably swear herself purple that she has no inner demons, and that the problems are entirely OURS. So maybe I should interpret this dress as being a statement about how my own self-loathing causes me to project substance-abuse, attitude, and sticky-finger problems onto other innocent and delicate flowers who have done no actual wrong except I Know Who Killed Me. Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.

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Fug Madness 2011, Sweet Sixteen: Cher Bracket


(1) TAYLOR MOMSEN vs (5) LINDSAY LOHAN

In many ways, this matchup is terribly apt — Momsen seems headed down a similar path that LiLo took, a.k.a. the path to Grossville via Nutbar Junction, and so it’s sort of like pitting two generations against each other.

I love how every member of Taylor’s band, The Pretty Reckless (surprisingly, not that bad), seems to be avoiding looking directly AT her, as if she is the sun and might scorch their eyeballs — or more accurately, as if she’s an under-18 wearing a bra and they are afraid acknowledging her existence will get them into handcuffs, and not in a fun way.

Lilo is certainly no stranger to making us look at her funky bunches:

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