Even though our founding editor remains convinced that Lindsay Lohan’s lesbianism is just a phase to prepare her for the joys of bi-curiosity with Mr. and Mrs. Sic Willie, somebody forgot to tell that to Lohan’s girlfriend, DJ Sam Ronson.
Ronson, who reminds us of pretty much every gender-neutral, name-ambivalent bull dyke we’ve ever seen, is seriously starting to impede upon our joy.
We honestly can’t remember the last time our favorite popslut went out on the town and just so happened to step out of a car at the precise angle required for the paparazzi to photograph her lack of panties, and just last week she told Playboy “thanks but no thanks” to a $700,000 offer to flash a little kitty for them.
What the hell, Lindsay? We hate to break it to you but that nude spread you did for New York magazine is not exactly the boob-a-palooza you want to hang your bra on.
In fact, it’s kinda creepy – and it it wasn’t for somebody’s freckle fetish we probably would have said so a long time ago.
By Not Only That September 14, 2008 at 6:03 pm
Well, ick.