Michael Lohan claims to have numerous phone tapes and messages left by ex-wife Dina that prove that daughter Lindsay is an out-of-control drug addict, and he’s going to be releasing them to the media next week. According to the NY Daily News
“I have proof that Dina has told me Lindsay is on death’s doorstep, that she doesn’t have much time left. There have been frantic calls. And I’m going to prove that Dina is the liar, not me.”
The whole world is about to hear it: A source confirms that Michael is set to air the numerous voice-mail messages she’s left on Monday’s “Entertainment Tonight.”
“She has expressed to me that Lindsay is in dire, dire need of an intervention,” Michael said. “My lawyers told me to keep every single conversation - and I did.”
Who exactly is he trying to convince she’s an addict with all this? It’s not like the rest of the goddamn world doesn’t already know. If he really wants to reach his daughter, blathering on Maury and Entertainment Tonight isn’t going to cut it. He needs to put his message about knee-level in an L.A. nightclub’s men’s bathroom or on the bottom of a bottle of vodka. It’s the only way she’ll ever see it.
Leaving — you guessed it! — an L.A. nightclub last night:
Crack might be “wack,” and crack might be “cheap,” but judging by her X Factor performance on Sunday night, Whitney Houston is back to basin’ again (FF to the 4:00 mark for the especially crack-y stuff). Star Magazine says
The admitted drug user’s bizarre appearance on Britain’s The X Factor raised eyebrows Sunday, as she nervously struggled through her song “Million Dollar Bill,” and seemed disoriented during the interview afterward.
When asked by the host when her album was to be released, Whitney paused and stared at the ground before stammering, “Yeah, the um…the album? It should released this weekend or next week sometime. I’ll be back here in April for the tour.”
When [the host] asked her what she thought of the talent, Whitney again looked at the floor for the answer. “I thought that they were…um…how do I put this? Really good.” Then she fiddled with her nose and added, “So that’s um…they’re young.”
Jesus Christ she’s freakin’ twitchy! All that’s missing is a herkie into a pile of folding chairs and a nervous smelling of the fingers she had shoved under her armpits during her Meredith Baxter-Birney monologue and she could be the old black version of Mary Katherine Gallagher.
I stopped watching this video of Brooke Hogan after she gave her half-eaten apple a voice and made it pretend to sign her tit, but if you can make it past the four minute mark, you can learn all you ever needed to know about the finer points of eating an apple. Namely:
1. You need a tube of Aquaphor off your boyfriend’s table (apparently your significant other should have psoriasis or diaper rash)
2. Put the Aquaphor on your apple and smear some on your lips
3. Drink some cough medicine
Immediately following step three, you should make sure to double over with inane laughter and continue blathering like a goddamn loon, making sure that at no point are you even remotely funny in the slightest. Or as I like to call it, “blogging.” Trust me, it’s a lot harder than I make it look.
Are you sitting down? Because you might want to. This news could literally knock you off your feet. Ready? Okay, here goes: Paula Abdul was addicted to painkillers for the last twelve years. There, I said it. I can give you a moment to collect yourself if you need to. Us Weekly says
In a shocking new interview, Paula Abdul reveals that her reliance on painkillers got so bad she could have died.
Abdul, 46, was diagnosed with “reflex sympathetic dystrophy syndrome” in [2005], a chronic neurological disorder that causes severe pain. Abdul wore a patch that delivered a pain medication about 80 times more potent than morphine and took a nerve medication to relieve her symptoms. Sometimes, she adds, she also took a muscle relaxer.
But the pain got so bad it that it often left her sleepless and caused her to “get weird.” A combination of these factors prompted many fans to believe that the American Idol judge was high on the air.
Determined to overcome her habit, she checked into the La Costa Resort and Spa in Carlsbad, Calif., last Thanksgiving. “I could have killed myself,” Abdul tells the magazine.
In other shocking news, the sun rises in the east and old people smell funny. Further bulletins as events warrant!
High as a fucking kite and dressed like a drag queen at the American Idol Experience party:
TMZ snagged some of the highlights of Ashlee Simpson’s “Kane Morning Show” interview on DC’s Hot 99.5 yesterday. Operative word here being “high.” When asked about her favorite line from one of her songs, she said:
“Uh, the best line in the song is, uh… you know… the, the, uh, ‘come over’ line…. uhderdalahlahmm… ahh, oh, like I’m desperate?… um… it’s pretty genius…it’s um… i’m not over it so come over… um…. pretty genius…”
Of course, her rep promptly issued the following statement:
“Ashlee was absolutely not intoxicated this morning on Hot 99.5. She has been working extremely hard traveling across the country to promote her upcoming new album by performing at night and waking up very early the next day to do radio interviews in the morning – like any of us would be – she was simply just tired.”
If there’s one thing years spent as a stoner have taught me, it’s how to tell when someone is high. And Ashlee Simpson is fucking high. And not the good kind of high, either. See, your typical pot-smoker falls into one of three categories: the “existentialist,” the “paranoid schizo,” and the super obvious you’re high “red-eyed giggler,” (read: Ashlee Simpson). For future reference, the best way to get rid of a red-eyed giggler is to turn on “The Wizard of Oz” with “Dark Side of the Moon” and leave her alone with the paranoid schizo for a half hour. You can also try convincing her that bong water makes for a wicked buzz or that you can’t understand her because she’s speaking Latin, like the devil. That last one usually buys you an hour at least.
