Before my love for Lohan, or at least my fake stalker, hoping to get arrested as a publicity stunt, that no one paid attention to was replaced with Miley Cyrus, Amanda Seyfried, and pretty much any actress who still gets work and that I am not tired of hearing about, I was a huge fan of Lohan’s perfect tits, that after a lot of debate, have been decided are just awesome fakes. Turns out, I still am and that she’s still got a warm, spot in my bed next to my fat diabetic sweaty, apnea gurggling wife and pug.

When I see her walking bra-less and in a tank top, when she’s supposed to be in lock down, I can’t help but feeling all those things I once felt for her, which isn’t really much considering I have no emotions, and was more a “hey that girl on TV has great tits”…but it’s better than forgetting she fucking exists, even if she wants me to, since she stopped texting me 3 years ago, and I feel that was both of our peak….even if she’s still fucking perfect.

Posted in:Lindsay Lohan