Why the hell does anyone care about this washed up piece of trash? Is it because of the automatic transmission of information that the internet and our smart phones bring to us? That no one born after 1981 can go more than 15 minutes without whipping out some device with which to talk to a faceless crowd of people who pay more attention to what they have to say than their parents did when they begged for mommy and daddy to ohh and ahh over their fingerpainting??
Last week, Lindsay Lohan participated in a 4-day long photoshoot for Playboy in which she was finally supposed to bear absolutely everything, from her pale pink wet weasel nose nipples to her gaping, $3 hooker fire crotch. Hugh Hefner himself decreed that the shoot was so bad that he was scrapping all of it, bringing in a new photographer and starting fresh. And by fresh, it apparently means no more LiLo cootch to keep your hopes up for.
So, yeah. I want you to start listing what exactly it will take to get this chick out of the news. I need to hear some clever shit this Friday. Something that distracts me from the fact that her 30-day jail stint for skipping out on her court-ordered community service work at a morgue is going to be postponed so that she can handle this "obligation" first.