Virtual Lindsanity -  Can you PLEASE keep it... -

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Ask me shit! About the author(s): MjH grew up in the suburbs of Encino, CA, born into a family of hilarious Jews. His mother, a witty New Yorker with a sharp tongue, set the bar pretty high in terms of what he looks for in a wife/Jewess.

Forever wearing glasses and on the hunt for Jewish cunt, our man wants you to know that he once schtupped a dame at DIVE! in Century City.

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Virtual Lindsanity -  Can you PLEASE keep it together, for just like, one hour - tops? Nobody is asking you to act anymore, or even do funny bit parts for FUNNY OR DIE. All I’m asking is that you learn to walk. Is that so tough? I do it everyday. You know, I give you a hard time. But you’re a fuck-up. I’ve wanted to schtup you since you were in THE PARENT TRAP. Then came MEAN GIRLS and everyone within a 3,0000000,000000 radius wanted to eat your ass with a side of caviar. What happened? I know Sam Ronson is a powerful female, but her pussy doesn’t have powers of witchcraft. Baby. Baby. Baby. Furthermore, you and I are both older siblings. We have young-ens that look up to us. At least I still do. The point is that you are leading a bad example for Ali. Homegirl probably hasn’t even given away her puss-puss yet and there you are, strutting around in whatever Ungaro horeshit you designed, falling over, drinking Vodka from Fiji water bottles, and throwing shit at the Papz. Oy. Look, in the ninth grade my Dad confronted me with, “Matt…I know you’re smoking weed…I don’t care…but the day you show your brother…that’s when we have a problem.” I slid by for a few weeks, but that was too much to ask. One night after Shabbat service I showed my bro my very first eighth of weed, and BOOM, my dad walked in on me. This lead to my parents drug-testing me for a while…me taking ecstasy in the ninth grade alone in my room (that’s a story for another time)…and my bro thinking I was a shithead for a few months. But guess WHAT?! I got my shit together, made the turn around, busted ass and got into the college of my choice early decision. I even took AP History and got a 4 on the test. Only then did I start smoking pot again. The lesson is this: don’t smoke meth in front of Ali until you get into college. I hear the University of Phoenix is accepting applications.  Linds, pookster, GET YOUR FUCKING LIFE TOGETHER. And by get your life together I don’t mean, “hey, it would be a great idea for you to design Ed Hardy bags.” I would love to be in one of these creative meetings.  “Christian, should we put the skull here, or the dragon smoking a cigar here next to the skulls with glitter and rhinestones?” - Exec #1 “I don’t care. I have ether to inhale.” “I think we should put the LOVE IS PAIN saying next to the skull with a heart on top of it, cuz it’s like, you know, faççionable.”  The Day That Ed Hardy Asks Me To Work For Them™ because our personal brands align…take me out to the field and execute me. Seriously. I can’t live like that.  Ali, there is hope for you yet. Don’t you dare go out in public accessorizing with one of your sissy’s ill-fated attempts at fashion on your arm. You can still be cool, without Lindsay leading the way. XOXO Your Friend.

Virtual Lindsanity - 

Can you PLEASE keep it together, for just like, one hour - tops? Nobody is asking you to act anymore, or even do funny bit parts for FUNNY OR DIE. All I’m asking is that you learn to walk. Is that so tough? I do it everyday. You know, I give you a hard time. But you’re a fuck-up. I’ve wanted to schtup you since you were in THE PARENT TRAP. Then came MEAN GIRLS and everyone within a 3,0000000,000000 radius wanted to eat your ass with a side of caviar. What happened? I know Sam Ronson is a powerful female, but her pussy doesn’t have powers of witchcraft. Baby. Baby. Baby.

Furthermore, you and I are both older siblings. We have young-ens that look up to us. At least I still do. The point is that you are leading a bad example for Ali. Homegirl probably hasn’t even given away her puss-puss yet and there you are, strutting around in whatever Ungaro horeshit you designed, falling over, drinking Vodka from Fiji water bottles, and throwing shit at the Papz. Oy. Look, in the ninth grade my Dad confronted me with, “Matt…I know you’re smoking weed…I don’t care…but the day you show your brother…that’s when we have a problem.” I slid by for a few weeks, but that was too much to ask. One night after Shabbat service I showed my bro my very first eighth of weed, and BOOM, my dad walked in on me. This lead to my parents drug-testing me for a while…me taking ecstasy in the ninth grade alone in my room (that’s a story for another time)…and my bro thinking I was a shithead for a few months. But guess WHAT?! I got my shit together, made the turn around, busted ass and got into the college of my choice early decision. I even took AP History and got a 4 on the test. Only then did I start smoking pot again. The lesson is this: don’t smoke meth in front of Ali until you get into college. I hear the University of Phoenix is accepting applications. 

Linds, pookster, GET YOUR FUCKING LIFE TOGETHER. And by get your life together I don’t mean, “hey, it would be a great idea for you to design Ed Hardy bags.” I would love to be in one of these creative meetings. 

“Christian, should we put the skull here, or the dragon smoking a cigar here next to the skulls with glitter and rhinestones?” - Exec #1

“I don’t care. I have ether to inhale.”

“I think we should put the LOVE IS PAIN saying next to the skull with a heart on top of it, cuz it’s like, you know, faççionable.” 

The Day That Ed Hardy Asks Me To Work For Them™ because our personal brands align…take me out to the field and execute me. Seriously. I can’t live like that. 

Ali, there is hope for you yet. Don’t you dare go out in public accessorizing with one of your sissy’s ill-fated attempts at fashion on your arm. You can still be cool, without Lindsay leading the way.

XOXO

Your Friend.


March 24
lindsay lohan
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