Fug Rule

Oh SWEET JESUS:

This is so, so questionable.  Lindsay, babe, we haven’t talked about you much recently — mostly because there are only so many ways you can say, “Honey, please stop partying so much.  We’re worried that you’re blowing all your talent on [REDACTED ON THE ADVICE OF OUR LAWYER], doing too much [REDACTED] and spending all your money on [REDACTED]. Also, put on some pants” — but I must speak up now.  I’ve seen chicer, more flattering cotton sacks in the Bulk Grains aisle in Whole Foods. You look like a bag of flour. Why must you continue to lash out at me in this fashion? Why do you still want to hurt me? Can’t you just let me live? Can’t you just leave the house in something attractive once and a while? I know you’re going through a break-up, but is that my fault? Please stop torturing me like this. Also, put on some pants.