Go Fug Yourself

Grammy Awards Pre-Party: Lindsay Lohan

I was all set to make this post a "Fug or Fab," and then I really looked at it:

No. I don't even think I need to put this to a vote. She looks like a traffic cone wrapped in tissue paper and topped with a hastily made flower, like the world's most inappropriate last-minute baby shower gift grabbed on the way to the party as the gift-giver realized when driving past a construction site she forgot to buy anything.

And I'm sure there's an "unwrapping" joke in there somewhere, but I'll let you write it yourself.

Lindsay Lohan LeggingWatch2008: PART A MILLION

We got an email from one of our attractive and insightful readers this morning, along with this photo of Lindsay, remarking that it looks like Lindsay woke up "and went insane," and I have to say that I agree, although perhaps it's closer to the truth to say that she woke up and continued to BE insane:

[Photo: infdaily.com]

And yet there is something about this that I almost kind of love. I know, I know, but it's just because she's SO over the top with the HAIR and the FUR and the BAG and the f'ing shiny endless leggings and the PRODUCT PLACEMENT that it's almost hilarious. For one thing, it's so low-rent to accept a surreptitious contract to promote a stop-smoking gum or whatever the heck it is that she's flinging around. For another, I feel like this secret celebrity product placement thing opens up a whole world of possible hilarity for those of us who enjoy celebrity-sighting: ScarJo ostentatiously gulping a Slurpee as part of her secret contract with 7-11, Katie Holmes waving around a package of Tampax, Paris Hilton gallivanting about with a giant bag of Baked Lays over her head.

So potentially, Lindsay has lulled me into an acceptance of her Leggings Habit, as I also think she looks sort of cute here:

Lindsay Lohan LeggingWATCH2008 Part III

Dear Lindsay,

[Photo: Splash News]

ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?

Bless,

Jessica

Lindsay Lohan LeggingWATCH2008 Part II

Ladies and gents, welcome back to LILO LEGGINGWATCH2008: YET MORE LEGGINGS. Our intrepid heroine has ventured out several times in the last few days -- didn't she recently say she was going to be spending more time in Long Island with her family? Was that a fib? Or was that just a way to get her mother off her back? Or is she avoiding Dina? Is that good? Or are we reading too much into this, needing our daily dose of soaps now that Passions is kaput? If so, does that mean I am also going to start seeing the floating head of Adrian Zmed everywhere I look? -- treating us to YET MORE DELICIOUS BLACK LEGGINGS. Honestly, people, I am getting to the point where I don't even care that she's wearing leggings. LEG IT UP, I say. I DO care that she's ONLY wearing leggings.

To wit, on January 11th:

[Photo: infdaily.com]

Is it me, or is she working a sort of weird Bret Michaels look here? I'm sure it's just the Tight Pants + Long Weave Under Funky Headgear look, but I am beginning to wonder (hope) if the "album" she's supposedly "working on" "in the studio" "right now" is ACTUALLY full of covers of "Every Rose Has Its Thorn," rendered in different moods -- crabby, hungry, happy, wistful, coke-pants-wearing, bitter, etc.

We get a brief respite from the LEGGINGS on January 13th in the form of this:

I Fug Who Fugged Fug

You guys, we have a serious situation with Lindsay Lohan here. No, it doesn't have anything to do with substance abuse, bad taste in men, bad taste in movies, or her mother. It's the leggings. I know, I know: I just wrote about the Leggings Issue the other day. But it's only as of today that I have been able to step back and take a long view of the Leggings Situation as a whole, and, friends, what I have seen has chilled me to the very bone. When I said earlier that Lindsay only wears leggings, I was being hyperbolic, kind of like when I say things like, "I would rather vomit all over myself and wear THAT out in public than wear XYZ,"  or "that guy makes me so mad, I want to rip out his heart and use it as a hat," or something. But here's the thing: while I would never really wear vomit as a dress or use vital organs as millinery, LINDSAY SERIOUSLY ONLY DOES WEAR LEGGINGS.

To wit:

Yesterday, at Bristol Farms:

[Photo: Splash News]

Leggings.

The day before that, coming home from Italy:

[Photo: Splash News]

Leggings.

Insert here The Leggings of My Previous Post, which were interspersed (THANK GOD) with a dress on New Year's Eve.

Then, prior to the New Year, we had:

I Fug Who Killed Me

On the morning after poor Britney released what was left of her marbles to the four winds and got carted off for Ye Olde Psych Evaluation, it's somewhat of a relief to realize that Lindsay Lohan's most pressing problem (other than that swig of champers she allegedly took the other night, but sobriety is a process, right?) is her stubborn unwillingness to wear anything other than a pair of goddamn leggings:

[Photo: infdaily.com]

GIRL. It's not 2006. GET YERSELF SOME PANTALOONS.

Although, Obsessive Fixation on Leggings notwithstanding, otherwise you look pretty hot. Don't tell anyone I said so. GOD, WHY CAN'T I QUIT YOU?

(That joke's come back around, right? Whatever, it's Friday.)

Fug to Love Me

No, Lindsay.

BUY PANTS.

I Fug Who Killed Me

And here, ladies and gentleman, we have Miss Lindsay Lohan:

[Photo: Splash News]

From the neck up, she's all Incognito (hat AND sunglasses! I wonder if she left her fake mustache in the car). But her boobs have not signed off on this whole Media Attention Is Overrated and Unwelcome thing. Oh, no, they haven't. And those boobs, they are INCORRIGIBLE. They will NOT be contained.  They pop out of things of their own accord and they are FIGHTING the concept that they -- and, by association, Lindsay -- want to take things easy and be low key now. No, those boobs have been locked up in Utah for MONTHS, and now they're MAKING A BREAK FOR IT.

And they're bringing the leggings with them.

Dare to Fug Me

Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay, may I be frank?

[Photo: Splash News]

While I definitely got all up in arms about your recent very bad behavior, what with the terrible driving and the drugs and the "That's not my coke because...um...THESE AREN'T MY PANTS, YEAH!" excuses and all the rest of the stupid-ass, knife-wielding drama you got up to this past summer, I must admit that -- as if you were an ex-boyfriend who was really self-involved and destructive and kind of totally CRAZY, but who was also kind of fascinating and intermittently hilarious -- I am totally ready to take you back, in a defiant but also moderately ashamed kind of way.  What can I say? If it were 2006, I would joke that I can't quit you. You are one f'ed up girl, but at least you're never boring. And while under normal circumstances, I would make some snide comment about how I'm SO SURE you're having lunch at the Ivy for the food and not because you totally thrive on the media attention you get there, and then I would gently wonder if maybe low-heeled ankle boots are generally unflattering on most people,  including maybe you, I truly am rather pleased that you're back in fugulation but not yet back in those pantaloons, or wearing a sequined tube top as a belt. Maybe you HAVE made progress.

polls by twiigs.com...

Fug the Cover: Lindsay Lohan

Do you think the folks at Maxim looked at the proofs from this frankly embarrassing Lindsay Lohan photoshoot and just shrugged and said, "well, everyone knows she's totally strung out. Why pretend otherwise?"

At least, let's hope that's the thought-process behind running this extremely glazed-eyed photo of a girl with very well-publicized substance abuse problems. Because otherwise, it sort of seems like they might as well have subtitled it, "Nothing's Hotter Than a Vulnerable Girl With Daddy Issues Who's Only Marginally Capable of Giving Consent Thanks To Her Massive Drug Problems. She's A Mess, and That's Awesome!" And while I'm not the biggest Maxim fan in the world --   it's like Cosmo for men, and just as silly (I mean, seriously. "Clothes That Seal the Deal"?)  -- I'm pretty sure they're not actually making the argument that the sexiest girls are the ones who can't stand upright and are prone to throwing on other people's coke-lined trousers. I mean, at the very least, she's NEVER going to offer to be the designated driver.