Some guy claiming to be a “drug dealer to the stars” (his term, not mine) is hitting up the NY Daily News for a quick buck. The first reveal on his celebrity client list? You guessed it — Lindsay Lohan, come on down!

Wednesday, a gentleman who represented himself as Lindsay Lohan’s former cocaine dealer let it be known, through an intermediary, that he was ready to sell his story. “Lindsay was texting him over and over the week she was in town with [boyfriend at the time] Riley Giles,” says the broker. “But he said he wouldn’t see her because she was just out of rehab.”

I’m sure media outlets everywhere began waving stacks of hundreds in an all-out tabloid bidding war, complete with pork pie hats and J. Jonah Jameson-type editors chewing frantically on cigar stubs. There’d be faxes flying and phones ringing over a chorus of “So you’re saying Lindsay Lohan and cocaine? You sold Lindsay Lohan cocaine? Cocaine — are you sure? Impossible!” And then an upstart journalist in a pinstripe vest covers the receiver on his phone and yells over the din, “Stop the presses! Hold the phone! I got wiener! I got wiener inside Lindsay Lohan! Extra, extra, read all about it: Lindsay Lohan likes the wiener!” That’s about when a closeup shot of the morning edition spins into focus and stops on the headline in bold and the whole office breaks into song and a highly choreographed dance routine utilizing the office chairs. That’s because it’s really 1954 and you’ve actually gone back in time to make sure your Mom and Dad still get married and have you! It’s totally unexpected, right? I’ve already sent my script to all the major studios, so don’t go getting any ideas or anything.

Lindsay learning of Heath Ledger’s death on the phone:

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