I Know Who Fugged Me

There are many signs that you’re having a bad week;  you end up shaving your head in a rage, for example, or your hosting service goes down for a couple of hours, along with LiveJournal, thus preventing you from discussing the finer details of Harry Potter with people, or you get word that Madame Tussauds  has undressed your wax figure in order to dress you like a prisoner of the long arm of the law — before you’ve even been arraigned!

God, Madame Tussauds, ever heard of innocent before proven guilty? It’s not like getting caught for a DUI and possession of cocaine, like, a week after getting out of rehab that was mandated by the last time you got caught driving drunk with cocaine in the car, while wearing an alcohol-monitoring ankle bracelet that you made a great big loud self-congratulatory deal about and chasing a woman in car is THAT BIG A DEAL, right? I mean, COME ON. And adding insult to injury, it’s not even a NEW set of jailbird rags — they’re totally Paris Hilton’s cast-offs.

Much as I assume Lindsay’s tragic court-mandated sobfest will be. Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay. That you’re reinacting Paris’s sloppy legal shenanigans seconds is maybe the most pathetic thing about this entire pathetic mess.

At least Madame T’s didn’t make you wear sneakers.