A Letter to the Editor from Lindsay Lohan...

Dear Editors,
Suck it. Yeah, you heard me. SUCK IT.

I'm lookin' damn good now, huh? I mean, check me out all smug and sh*t at a post-Oscar party...with all my hair. Ha! Oooh, snap! That was good! (You got that, right? That was funny, right?)

Whatever, beeyatch. You're all just jealous because I'm f-ing Mother Theresa compared to those skanks I used to roll with. (call me, Paris!) I mean, whatever. Not that you could ever compare me to those dirty pirate hookers. I'm not some adequite hack like those hoes. House of Wax? Puhlease. Crossroads? More like Promises, crazy ass bitch.

This is all their fault, by the way. I totally was trying to help but Paris was all, "Get away from us you scab, we don't want you anywhere near us." And at first, I totally thought she was just reenacting a scene from Mean Girls which I find a lot of people like to do around me. So I'm all, "He's almost too gay to function." And she's all, "Are you high? I don't even know what you're talking about. I'm calling security." And I'm all, "Okay! Call me later!" And she threw a can of Red Bull at me. But whatev, that's just crazy Paris. She's my best friend, you know.

Plus, and like, I feel really bad even saying this 'cause Lord knows my momma taught me never to kick a bitch while she's down, but like, Britney's kind of fat. I mean, not like Tyra Banks fat, but like Mandy Moore fat. So like, of course she's going mental. That's what fat people do. And that makes me sad because I, Lindsay Lohan, am a humanitarian. I care about people and the environment and James Franco and Alcoholics and stuff.

And um, well that's all I wanted to say. I'm late for a meeting. Nah, it's not important. Maybe mom and I will skip it and go get matching tattoos or nipple piercings. Sweet...now that would rock.

TTFN!

Love,
LiLo