One of my life’s great tragedies is that I am not friends with Sam Ronson or Lindsay Lohan, but I could have told you they were having sex a long time ago. I could have also confirmed it when I went to a Sam Ronson show here that gave me a headache, when I went to take a piss and she was at the urinal next to me taking a piss and pulled her fingers out and slid them under my nose and asked me if I liked the sweet smell of Lohan’s cunt , and I didn’t because it smelled more like stale whiskey, cigarettes and a dirty homeless man’s asshole.
Either way, they were on the Loveline, with some asshole wannabe celebrity DJ named Stryker, talking about AM and the plane crash and basically having a who knows AM better conversation, dropping words like “dude” and “homie” in a rough New York rough accent, despite being rich and private school bred from England and Lohan got on the phone to confirm that she is dating Samantha Ronson, I don’t really realize why this is a story. I thought it was already confirmed and it doesn’t matter, what does matter is that those who wear shiny pants together, stay together.
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